a waffle analysis

People always say weekends are for rest—but rarely have I felt a weekend for rest, as I'd always have something on my schedule/agenda to do. Last weekend, however, I set nothing. With schoolwork being an on and off switch (as in most work tends to fall on every other week, together), this weekend was an "off switch". As college applications have also come to a close, there really wasn't anything urgent that preoccupied me. The past few weeks I'd been stressed for some random reason and have had several cathartic moments of just letting my emotions and feelings spill. Having this weekend completely off was a new epiphanic moment for me, not knowing that great feelings can happen with "wellness"! I never really understood this "group mentality" high-achieving students had or this standard we unconsciously set ourselves to until some of my friends brought it to light both in the restorative circle and in FaceTimes. It was so true, though—things we

POZZO: what have I done with my watch? ... I must have left it at the manor. As a tragicomedy, the irony and humor in  Waiting for Godot never cease to make me laugh. Watching Pozzo play with his watch so much earlier—staying on top of his game regarding time—yet end up losing it is not only humorous but also deep. Symbolic of time, the loss of the watch shows the meaningless of time. But it also goes to show how disoriented and disorganized Pozzo really is. He appears fancy (relative to Vladimir and Estragon), with his chicken wings and watch that can calculate time in real-time, but in reality, he is just another human similar to Vladimir and Estragon.  Reading the watch scene, I couldn't help but think about all the times I thought I "lost my phone". Just as Pozzo tells everyone to be silent in order to hear ticking, I get someone in the house to call my cellphone, ensuring they're quiet so I can hear the vibration (ring, if I'm lucky). However, without my phon

 “Poetry is power. Making the choice to sit down and write or read a poem is power. It’s a choice. It’s self-care. It’s the start of a revolution. It’s change.” Poetry is power. Self-care. Change. This quote by January Gill O'Neil, my mentor poet, empowered me in this poetry unit—encouraging me to not give up on the search for deep analysis, universal extensions, and personal connections. Upon reading "In Praise of Okra," written by my mentor poet, I not only noticed the shifts in meaning and pace (which follow her growing passion) but also the cultural significance behind this poem. The nature of this narrative poem brings us along this emotional journey of how okra is perceived in the public, the history of okra, and what okra means to you. That last stanza, particularly the short sentence "Soul food.", culminates the poem with a prideful tone, one that encourages me to be proud of my culture as well. I simply admire how she was able to express such a powerful

Jumping time, and Living organisms begin to swarm, grow, & flourish No longer do I stare out at blizzards But rather my mother's shadow. The wooden planks hold the bed stable Each plant in its position, we tuck them with water, spreading a layer across the comfy dirt and watching the plants go to sleep. We sing our lullabies that glorify & enlighten each and every plant, encouraging growth. I watch these plants grow with love, with care, with innovation. Just as each parent has their hacks, so does each gardener. Because that's what gardening is— a mother-child relationship. Each day requires a lifestyle, time with insect frenemies, food fertilizer, and water blankets. Time together is a healthy one. A happy one. Inspired by a poem behind my Chobani Oatmilk carton!