actions, not words.

Intro This was written for an assignment for AP Lit, but I thought it was a valuable exercise, and it really improved my mood. My last AP test and finals still haven't happened, but it encompasses everything else. "Letter that Addresses The Prompt But Also Goes On To Talk About So Much More" Dear Alan from August 30 th , 2018, Although it would most likely break some law of physics if you were actually capable of reading this letter, I nonetheless address this letter to you, because the person that has been most affected by the events in my life that have transpired in the past eight and a half months was almost definitely you. You don’t know it yet (in fact, right now you’re probably just tired from having barely finished the summer assignment just last night), but you will learn so much about everything in the coming school year. Of course, on the surface of things, you learn the things you are supposed to learn in school. In Spanish, that is vocab, gr...

Journal “I like your boots!” - Love, Simon Today was good. I did less today than I did yesterday, so *oof*. That really annoys me, and it frightens me because I know I have to do go to a lot of things tomorrow as well, but I should be able to get things done. The keyword there is should , but hopefully things will be fine. The following paragraphs contain over 700 words that were written without a spellchecker, so if there are any issues there, that’s why. The main thing that happened today was I got to go to Love, Simon , which was amazing. I don’t usually watch movies (the last one I think I watched was probably in January), but this one was totally worth it. So much of it really resonated with me: (obviously) the not being straight, but beyond that, so many of the little details were just perfect. The utter high school-ness of it all, with the teacher who isn’t paid enough and the intrusive yet well-meaning principal. The musical references: the Hamilton playbill i...

This is the prologue to a comparatively longer short story I wrote in fall of junior year. It has not been edited and is probably overly melodramatic. Content warning: suicide. Prologue I speed all the way to Ben’s house. The habitually anxious part of my mind warns me that if I get pulled over I’ll just waste more time and probably get a ticket, but I manage to keep the worry at bay and keep my foot on the accelerator. The roads and trees that were once so inviting and familiar are now shadowy and threatening, warning me of what I may be about to witness as I zoom pass. I am endlessly worried about how serious he is. I desperately hope he has not done - and will not do - what he has threatened to do. I stumble up the stairs in a huff after fumbling for the key that I eventually find in the same place it has always been hidden: tucked away in some blankets in an innocuous but old and tattered Amazon box beneath the porch. My hands are trembling as I turn the key, but I...