Category Archives: Uncategorized

The premises are nearly identical. Similar to Stuyvesant High School, I have classes between the first and tenth floors, there’s a homeroom to report to once a week, and I’m back in the middle of Manhattan where most people commute to school from all over NYC. So far being in college feels like the hyped up sequel to a good movie that ends up being a letdown. My experience in college up until now has been disappointing, however the fault does not lie within Baruch. In fact, Baruch has been nothing but great to me. I really appreciated the icebreakers set up so everyone in the homeroom class can get acquainted with one another and served as a great stepping stone to building a friendship. The RAs have done a great job moving the class along and the group activities were enjoyable, particularly the one involving ethics. Also, there are many events and activities set up in the school to promote a more social and closer network amongst the students. For example, the newsletter sent to my email lets me know what’s happening on the school campus. Despite all this, I do not believe I’m able to mix well into Baruch’s atmosphere and I have not changed at all since I started college. If I was given the chance to redo my first semester, I would kindly decline the offer and move forward with my life. Baruch’s a great college, just not for me.

we young people in a young world
so much to learn and i aint concerned
one bit, about living life right now as misfit
cause if we grow up now, im gonna miss it
this life, you get only once chance to live it

like having no hands on a clock, my mind’s on lock
impossible to think, thoughts cant flow with no link
like glasses with no lens, no matter how much i blink
my vision gets no clearer as i stare in the mirror
a mirror with no reflection
i guess this is the pinnacle of perfection
when you look at yourself, and find no fault
when you dance with the devil in a toxic waltz
and when the being of sin is unable to corrupt you from within
joyride with lucifer and you concur
with his every thought
yes, im blessed by the creator himself
and like a man with no soul, i long to find myself

my bifocals scope things on another vision
illusioning a different scene with each higher prescription
i aint blind, but rational thoughts you wont find
signed, every imagery inclined to restitute sobriety to my mind
with a watermark blurry as a puddle of mudd
how everyone is changing, there’s no one left thats real.

I attend a school immaculate and absolutely free of any sort of drama. Each day expresses the same inane humdrum devoid of salience and features a virtuous population of underexposed, introvert clones. Deviance is bereaved and consistency manifests, leaving behind a putrid, sickening miasma of uniformity. Every night I dread waking up the next day with the burden of entering this cesspool of jejunity in search of acceptance and acknowledgment from my peers. Baruch has taken my identity hostage, continuously ripping out pieces of me, only allowing me to temporarily reclaim it at the end of every week. Perhaps it’s time that I’m ready to be assimilated into this society. Maybe it’s time to finally die.

It’s inescapable. Even non-conformists are stereotyped into their own category of people, be it rebels or misfits. In the end, we all conform to some type of standard. Pure genuineness may only be found in children. The common phrase “kids say the darndest things” holds true in the sense that kids really do think outside the box. Those cute answers and unrestrained comments are words of complete truth, untainted by other people’s ethics and are free from seeking acceptance. Kids are the true non-conformists in our judgmental society and are the only ones able to liberate us from the cycle of reused ideas and lack of innovation. Talk to a kid someday and see how much inspiration one can give to an artist. Unfortunately… they do grow up.

i am the creator, the motivational mind, the maker
channeling thoughts through my mouth, the speaker
or the hands, the writer
pumping through my veins, my flow, the ether
looking out of my hazel eyes, my sights, the teacher
reminder, dont forget to record my rhymes on paper
my blood, the ink, inscribed in it are my feelings, what i think
prescribed, medication, the pill filled with dedication
and inspiration, to feed the mind bits of imagination
chips and pieces to piece together the pieces of a puzzle
to write a piece to smooth out the creases
of the emotional scars, that make up who we are
iron out with my tongue, the wrinkles and spit out the bad taste of life
my heart, behind a cage of 24 bars
one for every obstruction
that comes between me and the nirvana of my own construction.

yeah, hiphop is my lady.

What comes to mind when you think of incomplete work, unfinished business or a half-baked plan? If a picture is worth a thousand words, then identifying myself in a mere five-hundred would make me feel inferior to a still image. As a living being, I’ve accumulated almost nineteen years of experiences, memories and if I really had to describe myself, I would say that I am “whatever you say I am” (Eminem). In each division of people I surround myself with I act a certain way, therefore the only accurate description of who I am can be obtained by asking each group about me, then composing a list together. Since self-portrayal is obviously not impartial, there’s no way I can give an accurate representation of myself. However, I will say that I love to stray away from “the norm” and all stereotypes. For instance, I refuse to answer this first question in the list-like manner of what I like to do and my goals for the future. So to actually answer this question, I think I’m a teenager whose only motive at the time being is to enjoy life as much as possible.

After watching the entire seven part American Pie series, I have developed a severe delusion as to what college life is like. To my dismay, there are no naked girls running around and house parties happening every weekend. This is my first concern; the social life at Baruch is seemingly non-existent. It has been almost a month since I started attending this college and I haven’t made a single friend, just acquaintances. There is an odd atmosphere that envelops the school and deteriorates most of my social ability. Maybe I’ll find out what it is by the end of the semester. I’m starting to believe this school is slowly restructuring my internal workings to be an introvert not out of free will, but due an inability to be understood.

The workload in school is not what I’m used to either. Back in high school I never attended class, but I came in for the important tests and aced them all. Apparently things work differently in college. The attendance rules are so much stricter and waking up and staying awake is so much more difficult than it seems. If the hours of the day were represented by a pie then school, work and sleep left me with hardly any time to do what I want. Plus the tuition costs increase my workload since I have to balance work with school.

Baruch is no different than high school for me. The escalators in Stuyvesant High School never worked, neither do the ones here. The elevators take forever and everyone goes home right after school. College turned out to not be the big change in my life that I’ve been looking for and my personality will probably take a turn for the worst. However, I’m still hoping for something or someone to come along and strip me of my negativity.