Resurrecting from the Dead

So... It's been six months since I last published a post.

I'm not even going to lie and say that I've been working on a really huge project that requires half a year (at the minimum) to materialize.

Laziness is the truth, but the stress of academia shall be my excuse. :)

To whip things here back into shape, I'll start with an editorial that I wrote for my school newspaper back in 2013. I think it's one of the only pieces I'm even remotely proud of. Writing well takes practice and A+ effort, but I'm sad to say that I've been neglecting to do both.

I just hope it's never to late to get back into the groove.

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THE RISE OF iNARCISSISM

There are three kinds of people in this world: those who don’t take “selfies”, those who take selfies and post them on Instagram, and those who secretly take selfies but are ashamed to project their own narcissism and therefore hoard one-hundred-or-so copies of their faces in their phones instead.

            Guess which category I’m from? Hint: it’s the third.

Even politicians have time for selfies... In SNL, that is.

Why Bad Boys Are Just Bad

If you’re a living, breathing human girl and you tell me you’ve NEVER been attracted to someone your dad wouldn’t hesitate chasing off with a baseball bat, then you’re a liar.

For years, countless forms of media have been geared at promoting a hyper-sexualized characterization of the possessive, testosterone-driven and excitingly forbidden leading man. In other words, Christian Grey.

I know what you’re thinking: “OMG SEXINESS OVERLOAADDD!!!” right? Yeah, I used to think so, too.

They're pretty nice to look at though. 

I’m a teenaged girl. Of course I’ve fantasized about falling in love with a bad boy. A huge chunk of my daydreaming quota is dedicated to guys fighting each other because of me or entering bouts of pseudo-depression when I’m not around. This will probably bar me from joining any feminist movement in the future, but I thought completely losing myself in the process of finding love was romantic. I thought having a soul mate meant that I could depend on someone to tie me down to Earth and become my sole purpose for living (even if he was slightly off his rocker).

Damn you, Romeo and Juliet, for making me revel in the tragedy of love ending in double suicide. Damn you, too, Twilight, for making me feel like that’s totally normal in a modern – albeit slightly fictional – setting. But though Romeo admittedly does fickle like nobody’s business, he doesn’t fit into our average bad boy stereotype. Edward Cullen, on the other hand… Sparkly vampire predisposed to kill you, unhinge your self-esteem and watch you sleep? Back. Away. RIGHT NOW.

I used to dream about dating bad boys for several reasons. Now, I’m going to attempt explaining to my past self – and to you – why I was so stupid to consider them worthy of my adolescent infatuation.

Dissatisfaction

Slouched and disillusioned,
Nearly catatonic -

Bright light streaming from an LED screen

Is all that assures me

That I am alive.

For what is life when it is not lived,

Like music when it is not heard.

An Open Letter to People Who Can't Shut Up During a Movie

Hello.

I hope you know that that greeting is as far as my politeness will go in writing this letter. From here on, I won't bother censoring myself with regards to your cinema etiquette - or lack thereof. If you take offense at people saying what's effing wrong with you, then I suggest that you exit this page right now.