Memoirs of a Troubled Teen

The Following is a Blog post by 16 yr old Zachery Groff.

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Friday night like always is the night when the so call “Cool Kids” snuck out of their rooms through their bedroom window and scale the confiding walls of their homes to go “hang” with their friend’s and by that I mean go drink, snort, inject and whatever other illegal actives that needed to be done before the night was over. It wasn’t the same for me, I wish it were though. I sat right there on the ledge of my window looking at the moon and smoking those cheap cigarettes that my drugged out mother would leave lying around the house. It was very double standard that she; who never came home while the moon was still up wouldn’t let me ever leave the house unless it was for school or visit a friend that she considered appropriate; like I had any. It never mattered though because I could tell her I was going to kill myself right to her face and she would be too hung-over to care.

Everyday was the same, wake up, go to school, come home and then the cycle continues. It was the definition of a typical high school teenager I would presume? No!, who the Fuck! Am I kidding it was not; 16 is suppose to be those Golden years, the years you will never forget. The ones that you will look back at and think, “WOW” wasn’t teenage life great. Well that was certainly not my life. The books, movies and TV shows depicted the teens that always had it good and never the ones like me; the ones that didn’t have it all. Didn’t have the cars, the house or the friends. I was that kid who you never knew did class with you for 4 years. Sad isn’t it?, but it’s the truth.

I can decisively say that of me, there was nothing to live for; absolutely Nothing. I can’t say that I’ve never considered suicide before because I have more than one; in fact everyday. Ninety percent of the time I would consider taking a hand full of pills, my mom has loads. I wouldn’t be missed, my mother would probably cry and my friends, well I don’t have any so, yea my mom would cry. I can’t tell exactly what would happen but those are my best guesses well at least what I can imagine.

I know I’m troubled I cut myself all the time; I do it because feeling the sharp blade rubbing my thin pale skin of what use to be a clean wrist makes me feel like I’m draining all the bad. I’m not a shrink so I cant tell you the source of my pain or frustration but all I can say is that there was nothing that hurt more than my everyday life. It was fucking horrible. I didn’t drink much or was bullied; it was more about never being noticed or maybe not having anything to look forward to. As far as anyone was concerned and by “anyone” I mean my mother I had no future what so ever.  I mean seriously how can I go to the same school with you for 4 years and have the exact class schedule but the only thing you have ever said to me is, “Do u have an extra pen”; she was a cunt-bitch!, but I loved her so much and I don’t know why. Lets not stray shall we she was never important. This is about me and my problems. I tried not to make her one but she kept coming back to my mind.

I’m not trying to be one of those “emo kids” that blame the world and fucking North American society for their problems rather I blame every fucking human being who contribute the definition of what is expected from a “typical” teenager.  Well I’ve spoke about my Drunken Mom and the cigarettes, the cutting and loneliness. So I would believe that this is where I end the “memoir”. Ill try not to cut too deep after writing after I end this Blog post. And fuck! the Teacher who incentivized me to do this. Express feelings my ass.

Written by: Omar Hall

*This was a creative writing piece for a Literature Class*

"This is the dark time, my love" by Martin Carter (Analysis)

This well put together poem by Martin Carter speaks to a society that is ridden with war. The story is set in what is said to be a British ruled Guyana (British Guiana) where the people where oppressed by the military troops.

The poem starts off with the writer of the poem repeating the line “…This is the dark time, my love.” this shows to the reader that this is a very compelling line in the poem. The line stats that the days are dark, the sun has being cover by a mammoth of smog, dirt and coal that has flooded the air due to the physical and social pollution that the British has caused upon the nation. The line then says “…my love..” which explains to the reader that the poem could be referring to either someone he cares for emotionally or his country. Continuing with the 1^st stanza the second lines uses metaphoric “brown beetles” to refer to the military oppression. Brown Beetles represents the Military Jeeps, Tanks and other equipment the army uses. “ …The shining sun is hidden in the sky…” the 3^rd line in the poem relates to the sun, which subtly represents hope, is hidden by what the poet try’s to portrait is the cold and cruel actions of the military troops. The Stanza then finishes with the poet with a brilliantly placed metaphor “...Red flowers bend their head..” red flowers are symbolic of the people and the red is symbolic of the blood shed.

The second stanza is a clever antithesis full of oxymorons. The poet starts the stanza again with the repetition of the title, “…This is a dark time, my love..” , this of course is not an oxymoron but gives rhythmic appeal or enforces the fact that the poet might be speaking to a specific person or persons. The second stanza utilizes two ingenious oxymoronic phrase to shows the state of the nation, those being “…festival of guns..” and “..the carnival of misery..” . These two phrases compare something that is joyful and of merriment and combine them with something of grief and mourn. The fact that the poet uses the words festival and carnival can also relate to the size of the military forces.

The third stanza starts off with a question, “….Who comes walking in the dark night time?...”, which symbolizes the troops who creep in the dark of night and “…whose boots of steel..” , stamps down on the “…slender grass..” which represents the people. These two verses speak to the people of the nation who are being tortured, abused and trampled by the British forces. The poet then writes a verse “…It is the man of death, my love, the strange invader…” “…Watching you sleep and aiming at your dream..”, though these are two verses are separated by being placed in two different lines the lack of comma between invader and watching shows that they are to be read as a “run on” which add effect to the poem. The verses utilize two phrases “..man of death..” and “…strange invader..” to embody the British soldiers which try to destroy there “dreams” of independence and freedom from the British Empire.

“This is a dark time, my love” is a brilliant poem that relates to a nation that is ridden with war and its people who are oppressed and seek liberation form there opposing force of the British. Martin Carter sums up their misery with short, complex and metaphorically abundant verses that speak to the people in a deep and thoughtful way.

Analysis by: Omar Hall

NOTE: This analysis was done for a CSEC literature homework.

DONT STEAL THIS BTW!!!! ITS MY WORK!

The Social Network?!...

I was sitting down stairing at the LCD display of my laptop and on the screen was twitter, facebook, and Tumblr and I thought to myself why do people social network. Is it because they want to stay close with friends and or reconnect with lost friends or relatives, or are they fill a gap in there lives with senseless banter via tweet. I mean really on Social Networks people make themselves into poeple who they are not instead of exploiting there true personalities. There is a popular saying that Social Networks are where nerds become jocks. This becomes pretty true when you sit and analyse that 75%,(Opinionated statistic),of the people who we talk to online are maybe not completely different from who they are in person but much different. You see because when your online no one is there to directly criticize you, so you say whatever and this makes your personality stray. OR does it!. Being that no one is there to criticize does this make a person more brave and have them show who they really are on the inside and make them able to vent whatever feelings they might have bottled up, does it make a person step out of there comfort zone and explore parts of there personality that they would never show in public. Well does It......Think About It!.