Journal #43 - A Standardized Test to test my SANITY???

Okay. No. I have many a feeling about this, and none of those feelings are good. I come from a family and friend group of some very wacky people. If we were to take this so called "Sanity Test", we would not do so well. After reading that story in class yesterday, I actually am positive I would fail. I understand when we take tests to rate our intelligence and work skills. Although I hate such tests with a deep and burning passion unquenchable by anything, I still see why they are helpful for colleges and whatnot. However, when you want to go an test me on the way I think and observe the world? --That's when I draw a line. We were born different from those around us. That is the way of life. No two people are going to be exactly the same, especially not in the way they think. Sure, two people may think a lot alike, but it would really be lucky if they thought the same about everything. Who is to determine what the so called "standard" sanity is? What makes us unique as individuals is our different thoughts, so if we all score the same on such a test, we would all be conformed to society. Conformity is not a good thing. At least in my opinion. I am a strong believer in individual rights because uniqueness is what makes the world so exciting. To test someone on how they feel about something is to take away all of their chances to be different, and that is not okay. Standardized tests make me very angry. I will still take them, but I will not be too affected by what they tell me. I would rather such tests tell me what kind of a person I am, analyze how I think, and show me my strengths and weaknesses rather than tell me why I am so different from "the rest of society". *insert angry sigh here*

Jounal #42 - Hero who does good for bad reasons

A dark haze settled over the valley as the masked figure stood, firm and planted, on one of the towers surrounding the town. He knew where it was, the gem. Such a gem contained the energy that the town used to keep the evil spirits of the forest away. He had seen the destruction. Without the gem on its normal resting place, the spirits became restless. Night after night they came, hidden by the darkened horizon. They would tear down homes, burn fields, and they only stopped when the sun rose. He huffed out a sigh against the bitter winds that were pressing against him, bringing his black scarf to cover his nose.

He shouldn't be doing this, he tried to warn himself. He didn't care though. Afterall, they deserved it didn't they?

The town expected him to retrieve the gem and return it to its pedestal, saving the town from the spirits. They praised him for his volunteer action, but it was all just a planned out scheme by the neighboring stronghold. They had accepted him, taken him in after this town had banished him. If not for his supposed "kind action", they most likely wouldn't have let him in.

It would not be hard for him to retrieve the gem - it was quite simple actually - but no one had to know that. If they knew, they would not have let him be the one to retrieve it, and then his plans with the neighboring town would not go through. He jumped off the edge of the tower, rolling once he hit the ground to soften his fall. Stealthily he ran through the woods, dodging any of the lights emerging from the trees around him as the spirits awoke. A few minutes of running and he slid his blade from his sheath, using it to aid him in climbing up a nearby tree.

 Perching himself up in the tree near his destination, he waited, peering through the thick foliage of the the oak.

He may have dosed off slightly, but he knew he hadn't missed it. The spirit, that was. The neighboring town had only been able to get the gem this far, before the spirits had attacked him. It is safe to say the retriever was no longer with them. Another half an hour passed before the growling begun. Now well into night, the chattering of the bugs in the trees might have hidden it. However, his trained ears were able to pick it up.

He peered once more down at the hole beneath the oak across from him. Slowly, the creature emerged. One foot, then the other. He crawled out, the misty colors around him squeezing their way out of the crevices of the tree.

The time was perfect. The masked figure prepared to strike, slowly sliding his blade out of his sheath once more to take out the beast. Swiftly, without a sound, he dove down upon the beast, taking his life in seconds. As the body crumpled beside him and faded as his remains were sent who-knows-where, the figure stood. Slowly falling to his knees, he sifted his fingers through the dirt beneath the tree, claiming his prize.

He stood once more, the powerful gem in his hands, happy that he had fulfilled his job, but deep down he felt the worry and fear that plagued him ever since he accepted his task. The village he had once inhabited was about to fall.

---

Journal #41 - Heroes

Usually, when people think of heroes, they think of the muscular, be-caped, spandex wearing individual who swoops in and saves the day. I love those kinds of superheros. Superman, Spiderman, Batman... They are fun. However, even with the excitement of these kinds of heroes, I feel as though we need to recognize better those who are not super. Yesterday afternoon, there was a bombing in Boston, Massachusetts, at the end of the Boston Marathon. At the finish line, two bombs were exploded and then later another blew up at the John F. Kennedy Library. This kind of crime is awful. It really makes me question the future of mankind. Despite this, a lot of good deeds happened yesterday as well. Those who helped out. We can never thank enough the firemen, police, and medical technicians who are almost always there to save the day. They save lives on a daily basis, and do they get their own comic books? No. I am not saying that you have to have a comic book to be a hero. That is not what I am saying at all. I am just saying those who do step up to save the day, even if it is their job, are the real heroes. I also found out that a lot of the runners in the marathon ran straight to the hospital after they crossed the finish line in order to give blood to those who lost blood. That is the most amazing, beautiful thing I have ever heard. Those people were already exhausted. They ran twenty six miles for pete's sake! But, when they found out what had happened, they kept on running to help out. Where I heavily doubt the future of humanity due to people bombing social events for no reason, I also believe that there are still a lot of good people in the world. In the end, the good outnumber the bad, I suppose. The people like those policemen, firemen, medical technicians, and blood donating runners are the true heroes in the world - even though superheros with capes may seem to be a bit more entertaining.

Journal #40 - Free Write - Ranting about what I want to do with my life.

For the longest time, I have wanted to be an animator. Growing up watching a wide variety of animated Disney movies and cartoons that I have adored have given me an intense appreciation for the work that goes behind them. Two-dimensional animation is drawn, frame by frame, and it brings previously still drawings of people, animals, etc, to life. Starting with a childhood obsession with a plot-driven cartoon series, I tried to enhance my drawing ability, and I am proud to say I have. I have made small animations before, and believe me when I say it is hard. You literally have to draw 8+ frames for just one second of video for it to look connected. Despite its tasking quality, I still really want to do something involving animation with my life. I have looked up the qualifications for working at Disney Pixar or at Disney in general and it is pretty legit. You have to be the best of the best to get in there as an animator - and once you do, its not even a secure job. You sign on for one movie at a time, and once it is over, you might be rehired, but otherwise you are done. Where that is a pretty depressing thought, I still want to try my best to work there. If Disney becomes not an option, I will most likely lean towards Nickelodeon for work. They provide steady jobs. If my animation career takes off, I would want to create a cartoon. That might seem like a very silly and impossible task, but I think that would be amazing. I love to create stories, worlds, and characters. Add that to a love of drawing and animation and what do you get? CARTOONS. -but not the plotless ones like Spongebob. I am sorry, but that just does not cut it for me. I have a few ideas in mind already, but I do not know if they will take off and become more. If they do, look for a cartoon in 20 or 30 years with a good plot and sit down to enjoy it because it will be amazing.

Journal #39 - Spring Break

My spring break was rather enjoyable - though I would not consider it the most exciting week of my life. The first half of break was pretty much full of dread and misery and suffering similar to that which one experiences in an average school day - only at my house. You see, I have no problem with school. I understand its benefits and support that, but that does not make it any more enjoyable. No offense to any of the teachers, its just a bitter truth. Nonetheless, the reason why I was filled with such dread is that despite the lacking of school for one week, I was still burdened with a large sum of homework. I get summer homework. It makes sense. Over the summer, one loses so much of the information they obtained over the school year - HOWEVER - I do not fully understand the point of a spring break if all some of my teachers are going to do is assign hours upon hours upon days (5 page essay) of homework and expect me to "enjoy myself". Yeah, okay, I'll just do that. Despite my bitterness and often passive aggressiveness about this, I still did have a satisfactory second half of my break. Usually, I put of my homework until the last day (or hours) of break. This time, I decided to get everything done within the first half, so that I could truly enjoy my second half. Thankfully, that worked out well and fine and I had a great second half of my break. I spent a lot of time with my friends, playing video games and running around at the park. I even kept myself relatively productive by helping out my college friends on their stage painting and set building for their production that I cannot currently remember the name of. I also went to Cherry Berry quite a few times for some frozen yogurt and I enjoyed every bite. Then, in the late hours of the night, I found myself doodling on my art tablet, which was very contenting. Unfortunately, this break has come to an end and I can only find myself craving summer vacation all the more. I have had a taste and I just want to be able to relax and draw, but I suppose I can wait. With all of the tests I have to take in the incoming weeks, I need to get my game face on. I suppose it is only seven more weeks until school is out. That is not awful, but I bet it will go by very slowly. We'll see, I guess. ---

Journal #38 - Job Shadowing

I have always considered the culinary arts for my potential career. Of course, my first choice will always be anything in the two dimensional arts - specifically digital art and animation - but I like to cook nonetheless. However, when I went to the St. John's Hospital cafeteria, I did not know what to expect. I guess I thought that maybe I would be cooking or just watching people cook the entire time. Truthfully, that is what I would have liked the most, seeing as though my evenings usually consist of watching the food network. When I arrived, they immediately made me put on a chef's jacket - which was rather exciting; I felt so important - and a hairnet. I was not too big of a fan of the hair net, considering it took me about half an hour to successfully get it to cover ALL of my hair, but I suppose I knew it was required. I kind of wanted a chefs hat.... Nonetheless, I got to follow around this man named Eric. He was very nice and he explained very well how he got into the field and what his job every day consists of. We made this simple yet tasty pasta from bowtie noodles, garlic, olive oil, pine nuts, and broccoli. In fact, I had it for lunch that day. It was nice. Eric allowed me to prepare the dish with his careful guidance, and then dish it out to customers. It was an okay experience, but it was not lifechanging. After about an hour and a half of this, I was then taken to go work on an assortment of parfaits that they serve in the cafeteria. Anything from jello and whipped cream to pudding to fruit and yogurt - I made it. That was pretty fun, but I could not help but think it was rather boring. I also got to prepare other containers of snacks. After lunch, my main task was grueling, but it was actually pretty fun. "Make 150 sandwiches," they told me. Great. So they prepared one for me and I got to work. It took a really long time, but I am a master at making those sandwiches now. In the end, I had an okay time, but it was not anything I would choose for my full time career. I can definitely see it in my future as maybe a summer job or a parttime job of some sort, but I would not like to be stuck doing the same thing every day. It could have been the fact that it was a cafeteria and not a 5-star restaurant that brought down my experience, but its just not for me. I like to cook, but the repetitive nature made the experience not a 10/10 in my book. More like a 6-7/10. 

Journal #37 - Our Musical Vision

We have begun listening to the song "Blue Monk" by the Thelonious Monk Quartet. It is a very jazzy tune with some fun piano and sax solos. Usually whenever I listen to jazz music, I envision a black and white silent film with the music telling the story. The story I am envisioning now goes as follows : There is a man. He is currently sitting at the counter of some saloon or tavern, sipping some drink (of course not alcoholic; milk or something) with his friends around him. He is obviously a cool kid. He is the highlight of the town, the idol. He is laughing and generally just being his cool kid self. Also, by kid I do not specifically mean he is a kid. He is most likely not a kid - especially with his hearty non-alcoholic drink of milk. Let's say he is about twenty two to twenty four years old. His buddies are around the same age. Suddenly, he spins around on his bar stool, which is of course a spinny chair. He tells the pianist to jazz it up a bit and he slides off his chair. He starts to snap and bounce step over to the dance floor. People start to join him. He is dancing around and showing off his insane moves. Everyone is awed by his talents. He scans his eyes around the room, looking for the lucky lady he is going to ask to dance with him. He locks eyes with a woman he finds appealing and grins, bouncing over to her (by which I mean he is bounce stepping). She looks up with him, taking a sip of her drink. He asks her to dance, and she says something snarky like, "Not with you, pretty boy." The man laughs and becomes determined to get her to dance with him. He starts showing her his moves. With a smirk, she is amused by his efforts, but continues to reject him. He keeps at it and still he gets the same reaction. After a while, the woman stands up and pushes the man aside, to which he laughs and watches. She goes to the dance floor and shows off her equally talented moves and the man tries to dance with her. She continues to push him away, but soon it becomes a lighthearted battle. Eventually the man is able to dance with her, and then with the end of the song, the man offers to buy the woman a drink, to which she happily complies. --- That's what I envisioned.