a waffle analysis

Adulthood is a social construct. Yet the ropes I was connected to—  for the past eighteen years—  undertake departure, with only those remaining to pull and pull,  all the way toward a world unknown. Seemingly all is lost yet all is one.  ——  🌳☀️🍃 —— Inspired by my recent eighteenth birthday (celebrated by massive amounts of cake, cookies, and boba) as well as Bishop's writing style with end-stopped lines and em dashes, this poem is a testament to becoming 18. Age roles and periods are a social construct; profound change doesn't happen over one day. Our behaviors that are trained to react toward our new age shapes the way we go about our day. Knowing that this birthday is supposedly my last birthday to be celebrated at home and that this age is attributed to newfound independence (as created by our society) scares me at times. The world of adulthood seems like a mystical portal waiting for entrance, and what settles me is the fact that challenges are inevitable. Throughout th

As shown through my blog posts, I'm pretty crazy about psychology, often using the psychological lens in tandem with the formalist lens to analyze literature. With this being said, the discussion on Maslow piqued my interest: how can we reach self-actualization? What is that moment of anagnorisis in which we reach the peak of Maslow's hierarchy? The feeling of self-actualization won't be reached unless the tiers below it are met. I'll often look at the food on my plate, the muffins and waffles I ate today, or the family around me, and feel tremendously grateful for the privileges I have. But as much gratitude as I hold for these people and items around me, I don't find it easy to experience self-actualization. To be frank, the feeling doesn't even have a concrete definition. Nevertheless, the reason I can't have full gratitude is the inhibitory feelings that still exist within me. I'll be anxious about something or planning an event ahead of time in my m

My favorite word of last week was  ✨  anti-senioritis  ✨ .  For the next few months, my new goal is to reach anti-senioritis . But thinking about it, senioritis itself is open to interpretation. To what point of laziness does senioritis entail? Every year, I'll claim that I'm under [insert grade]-itis, but is it just me covering for my perceived faults and failures? Reading Their Eyes Were Watching God  has allowed me to broaden my perspective on the line between unproductivity and productivity. A motif in the novel is the horizon, as compared to land. Our often-materialistic selves cause us to count quantity, such as the number of fields in TEWWG , rather than quality. As Janie listened to Jody, she felt that he "spoke for far horizon; for change and chance". The vast possibilities of exploration instead of confinement with Logan appealed to Janie, to which she decided to run off with Jody. One could say Janie was more of an idealist than a realist—the neverending li