FRO 14 BRB

Really, we are all a bit damaged.

We experience raw emotions and events that sometimes, we don’t know how to process. So we bury it. No one ever finds out about our secrets because no one is looking for them. Everyone is so consumed with hiding away the things they don’t want others to see, but we can’t let anyone know that there’s something wrong. So we don a guise of happiness to show the world that we are fine. But when everyone does this, we fall under the social influence and think that everyone else really is fine so we suppress it all even more to become like other normal peope.

We are all paradoxes and we just want to be understood.

Hello FRO class,

This is a monologue about why I chose to attend Baruch- specifically about what I did with my life before I attended Baruch. Enjoy.

Monologue

Jacob Karlin

Graduating from high school I wasn’t sure what to expect. I was very comfortable in my school and did not want to feel vulnerable again. At the same time, however, I did want to move on in life and start to become more independent. This caused an internal conflict for me. Either way it was predestined that I would part ways with my friends and leave the comfort zone of a school that more or less raised me. I didn’t think that life could get any better than my senior year in high school. When I started school at Baruch I realized there was a lot more to learn than what I had known prior to college. I learned how to be more responsible by waking myself up for school every morning, by commuting by car and train from Staten Island, and by keeping my grades on track. I even picked up on the little things such as making my own lunch and doing my own laundry.Everything felt strange at first but I quickly learned to adapt to my new tasks. My life nonetheless has improved as I can now enjoy the freedom of college and the same lifestyle I lived before .There is a lot to learn from leaving your comfort zone. You cannot live in the same bubble every day and expect to learn something new. The lesson I learned is that no matter how great you see yourself there is always room for improvement, and that you have the power to create your own comfort zone.​

I remember how sad her deep black eyes looked. “Please don’t leave me” silently screamed from the blank stare she was giving me. But there are bonds you cannot simply break. She will continue to be my mother.

“People can’t just simply live”, said my father with his distinct English accent. ” You need a purpose. Find your dream, find something to fight for. Something that gives you drive, that makes you want to wake up every morning. Be responsible, be the leader of your siblings and your family who wants to see you succeed.”

Its not about being selfish. Its not about ambition. Its about love, about desire it is. I made a choice. My choice. The choice to move on, to take a chance and obtain a better education, and although it feels like time is not passing and anxiety will take over me, I know everything is worth the wait. After all, in between goals there’s life, and its meant to be enjoyed at its fullest, day by day, minute by minute. A life which I’m hardly working for. For my future years and for my family and relatives, which I hope are there to celebrate my accomplishments with me.

It was a Friday. My friends and I were hanging out at Flushing. We went to an unpopulated mall to eat and play cards. As we were leaving, one of us (Patrick), had to use the restroom. He was the only one who didn’t know how to get back home himself. We decided to prank him by making it look like we already left. We went out the mall but we didn’t stray too far. Once he realized we weren’t there, he called my phone. My friend (Tim) picked up and pretended to be someone else. We joked around with him for a few minutes and decided to go back inside. Near the entrance of the mall, we saw Patrick wearing his hoodie with his back to us, looking at his phone. Since we had just been joking around, we were laughing as we approached him. When we were right behind him, we realized that it was a different person. We walked away into a hallway. This was when we realized, we had been followed. The guy we thought who was Patrick confronted us. “Why were you guys laughing at me?!”. We explained to him that we thought he was someone else. Behind him came five other people. We were cornered. There was three other guys behind him and two girls. They looked like wannabe thugs. He came closer to us. Tim told me and my other friend (Johnny) to just walk away. We realized that the hallway was blocked on the other end. He and his friend approached Tim. He started talking trash about us. “You guys want to get smacked?”. I looked at Tim. His face was filled with anger. He doesn’t have the best temper too. I tried to explain again that we mistook him for our friend. He kept trying to pick a fight with us, knowing that they had more people. The two girls started saying “Go teach these kids a lesson! They need to learn a little respect!”. That’s funny, they didn’t look much older than us. Tim and the other guy looked each other in the eyes. Both looked like they were ready to pounce on each other. When they were face to face, his friend came up to back him off. “Alright, just chill out man.” He gave us a face. They started leaving. Before they left, he said “If I see you guys again, we’re going to jump you.” We found Patrick and got out of the mall. So the moral of the story is… don’t joke around? I don’t know but some people take things way too personally.

Blink.

My clearest memory begins at the age of eight.

I stand in front of a car, my hand on it’s door handle.

We’re leaving, I know, but to where?

“Mom? Where are we going?” I ask. In Korean, of course.

Her response eludes me at the moment.

“America” I believe.

I think she smiled.

Blink.

I stand at an airport, my best friend besides me.

She hands me two books.

Comic books. Greek mythology.

My favorite. Thanks.

Blink.

Wait, where am I?

My ears popped. Ouch, that hurt.

My mom tells me to go brush my teeth.

Right. I’m on the plane.

I head to the bathroom.

They announce we’re landing.

I rush.

Blink.

I stand at a door to a small house.

People… my aunt and uncle greets us.

Our new home.

America.

and…. here’s a chibi-sketch of myself…

Here I am once again. Another stage, another crowd. Except this time I’m right in front of the microphone. Take deep breaths Alexis.  I glance at the faces in front of me, some of them looking at us in awe, others clearly bored out of their minds. I take deeper breaths and sing louder notes. I open my mouth again but this time, nothing’s coming out. No sound. Nothing. Maybe this is normal. A few seconds pass and then the room starts spinning. What the-. Faces are getting distorted and the ceiling starts to blend in with the floor. This is definitely not normal. And all of a sudden in three-two-one…everything goes black.

I wake up to the principal’s mole and as I look around, everyone is looking back at me. I stare down and there’s a pool of blood on the floor. I’m hurried to the nurse’s office and immediately I’m put on the bed with an ice pack for my head and an ice pack for my chin. Turns out I was walking with my eyes closed like a drunk zombie and tripped on the microphone wire, causing me to fall. And now they’re telling me I need stitches.

To skip all the gory information, basically I stayed in school “bleeding to death” for three hours and then another half hour in the ambulance and another two hours waiting for my turn in the hospital. Finally the dreaded moment has come. Now imagine a blanket covering your face and while you’re awake, feeling every.single.needle. going through your skin. Yeah, feels great doesn’t it? I came out of the hospital with seven stitches and even to this day, I still get scared of microphones.

Hi my name is Agron and I will like to talk about being a contractor in the city. My dad and uncle own a contracting company and of course they started bringing me to work when I was 15 years old. I spend most of my job either working with my dad’s most experienced employee Jose or finding parking. Most of my friends tell me that working over the summer and on weekends is a waste of time but I disagree. I have learned a lot of things while working like how to not get a ticket while parked on a no standing zone, or how to climb a ladder with a compound bucket in one hand. But the most important thing I learned is how to interact with people from a different age group. Most of the clients I worked for were in their 70’s, most of my coworkers were in their 40’s, and most of the plumbers I worked with were in their 50’s so I learned a lot about different cultures and different places while working. The point of all this is that nothing is a waste of time so long as you meet new people.

I hate writing about myself. Especially if I need to invoke emotion and feelings. It’s not that I’m an emotionless husk of a person, I find it hard to convey a response that makes me feel vulnerable and weak. I don’t recall having one big event that changed my life, it’s tiny little increments that help shape me. But the challenge right now is responsibility. All the time, I get questioned “What are you going to do with you’re life”? My response would almost always be “I don’t know”.  Sometimes I mix it up and say “I’m not sure”. Honestly, I never wanted to answer it because part of me wants to stay a kid. Where I don’t have to face reality and I can screw around all I want. An endless playground with not a care in the world. But it’s not that simple anymore. Growing up isn’t easy and taking an active role to transition into an adult is hard as hell. Not goin’ to lie, I wish I can still pretend to pilot a giant robot or be the giant robot. Either or, that would be freaking sweet.

T-Minus 12 hours.

I wake up and get ready for school bringing nothing with me but a pen and a sheet of paper.

T-Minus 10 hours.

First class of the day. Less than half of the students are present; they must be getting ready.

T-Minus 8 hours.

Remind me again, what was the point of coming in?

T-Minus 6 hours.

Finally! It’s time to leave school. I run to my moms car and head to the beauty salon.

T-Minus 3 hours.

Nails done, hair done, makeup done. Dress, shoes, and purse in hand. On my way to my friends house to help her get ready.

T-Minus 1 hour.

I’m taking pictures in front of the limo with all of my friends. Everyone looks amazing.

It’s time.

We step into the venue and it looks amazing. Music is going, people are laughing, and the atmosphere is great.

The next 4 hours go by in a blur, but they are most definitely some of the most fun of my life.