cuerpo de las risas burlonas en el exterior. Estaba ahogada en la oscuridad, agradecida
solamente por los rayos de luz que se filtraban por la cortina de la ventana. Mis pies tropezaban
con muebles y alfombras mientras buscaba una manera de salir, acompañando el ruido de mi
corre-y-corre con los gritos despavoridos que brotaban de mi garganta, causando una molestia
en la misma. La sal de mis lágrimas se sentía agradable en mi lengua, y tuvo la capacidad de
detener mi llanto entre segundos para poder saborearla.” —Autobiografía Específica: La niña y el padre, Alexandra-Marie
but the last week has been my last week of High School. My last week of UHS. I have nothing I can say about it without crying. Today was my official last day, and I don’t think I’m ready to acknowledge that life is making me grow-up whether I like it or not.
These last six years have been the most amazing years. Not only because of the friends, but because of what I’ve learned, because of what I was taught to know I still have to learn, and because of the school, my school, itself.
My throat is a knot as I type, and my eyes get teary.
Hundred of pictures have been snapped, a lot of hugs and tears exchanged, but I still can’t bring myself to accept it.
I’m scared. But most of all, I’m nostalgic, sad, because time took this from me so fast.
High school has been amazing. UHS made me who I am, and I will be forever thankful for that.
jueves, 19 de mayo de 2011
For my Public Speaking course, our professor assigned us to make a persuasive speech about a controversial topic. I picked immigration in America, because when it comes to controversial, that and the gay debate is all the rage. When I told my professor what I was going to be writing about, she practically threw a fit and ordered me to change the topic. She’s American. I called out the irony of her not letting me use my topic for it being too controversial, and argued until the end that I was not changing it, and that she’d have to let me do my presentation in the end to then grade me. I told her something along the lines of “If you want to fail me, then do so, but do it after I present. Don’t censor me without listening to what I’ve got to say.”
So, I decided that I was writing this, more to prove a point than to pass a class. And I’m quite proud of the ending result.
Take a read if you’d like. Some citations might be lost because I did it on Word format, but the bibliography is right there at the end. Everything is duly cited.
de Roberto Juarroz
Rostro contra rostro,
piedra contra piedra,
para que el tiempo no se pudra
y conserve su forma de cinta de colores.
Tiempo contra tiempo
paciencia contra paciencia,
hasta que la piedra tome el dibujo del rostro
y el rostro la carne de la piedra.
Corriente de la mirada que no cambia
si mira o si no mira,
de la mano que es igual cuando toma y cuando da,
del corazón análogo para quedarse o para irse.
Piel contra piel,
mundo contra mundo,
tierra contra la tierra
y también contra el cielo,
hija de antiguos hijos,
bandera para el viento que ella misma ha engendrado.
Entre el sol y el maíz,
entre la lluvia y la muerte,
pájaro contra pájaro,
luz contra luz,
flor contra flor,
secreto de cobre amalgamado
con metal que respira,
brujería de un humo que desciende
a descontar los siglos.
Sed contra sed,
vaso para beber el vaso
y derramar el mundo.
Lately I’ve been feeling horrible about myself. I look myself at the mirror and I don’t like what I see at all.
I’ve felt it before, but I’ve never felt it this strong.
I need to do something.
And, why yes, I am quite happy.
Also: I squealed a bit when I saw that it had a toy. I forgot that the Happy Meals included toys.
When shopping for lingerie on normal teen-set stores, getting the right bras can get difficult.
For Christ’s sake, 36D is a size, okay.
So, I read Federico García Lorca’s La Casa de Bernarda Alba today, and I must say I enjoyed it more than I thought I would; I kept postponing the reading, mostly because it’s a short play, and also because it was assigned in class, but I should’ve done it earlier.
I like the debate of the play, misogyny vs. needs vs. woman. It’s interesting overall, because the play was written by a man, and I believe it captured the need of a woman to be free in olden day’s Spain.
Just a question that rattles me: If I had the opportunity to participate in a production of the play, I wouldn’t know if to pick Amelia or Adela. Amelia, the innocent one that kind of reminds me of me, or Adela, the younger threat unchallenged even by her own mother or sister…
domingo, 17 de abril de 2011
Friday was amazing and heartwarming because of our last Field Day at UHS, and it will be an overall best day because of what it means.
Yesterday and today were fun.