The saw is loud
The chained mental fence is sturdy
This a tractor a crowd
But the work was dirty
The workers waking around
Trying to replace the concrete
Braking it up until they see the ground
All sorts of people in the park
Playing, eating and walking the dogs
Every now and then you would share a bark
Businessman sitting on the bench participating in talks
But that’s just the average day in the big apple I can’t wait to have my lunch
And drink a Snapple
6 March 2023
Comparing My Self
The pressure to be the best was always in my mind. When I was 7 years old, my parents thought putting me in a swimming class was a good idea. Swimming classes weren’t too fun for me because of the unheated pool, especially for a skinny kid like me. Regardless of the conditions, I still tried to be the best in every aspect comparing myself to everyone else. I was really good for my age, but someone a year or two older than me would always swim faster, dive deeper, and hold their breath longer than me. I would always blame myself for not coming in first or being the best, even if I lost to someone older and more experienced than me. But I was still beating most of the kids in the challenges; some of that could be attributed to my tall, skinny build, which helped me with dives and swimming speed. Eventually, I took an interest in soccer due to my friends always talking about the World Cup. It took a little bit of convincing, but my parents finally gave in to the pressure and signed me up for soccer lessons. Before I even started practice, I kicked the ball around a local park, feeling more and more confident while picturing the plays I would do. I was confident going into my first practice, remembering that I dribbled past a stationary cone the day before, which made me think I was ready for the training session. As I walked onto the field, I saw my coach for the first time. He looked like a 60-year-old tough guy; he didn’t sugarcoat anything but instead did quite the opposite. We started the first drill, and I saw the other kids meticulously dribbling the ball and passing with precision; they looked way more skilled than what I did in the park the day prior, as I started off missing my passes and losing the ball when dribbling, feeling bad because I held up the line whenever things didn’t go smoothly. After a couple of weeks of training, I started to blame myself for not being as good as my peers. Around this time, I found out about a high-level team in my age group by the same organization; this lit a fire under me, and I knew I needed to get on the team to prove my skill. For the next year, I dedicated almost all my free time to practicing for a chance to get on the team. I came to the tryout, my hard work and a little bit of luck paid off, I finally made it onto the team. As I started training with the team, it became clear how much of a skill gap there was, and again, as always, I blamed myself for every little mistake. I compared my lack of skill to the best players on the team every time I got the chance. I lost a large portion of the one-on-ones I had with my teammates, and it was clear I was one of the worst players on the team. When the season started, my team started winning games and dominating other teams; the keywords here are “my team” because I had little to do with it. I was the definition of a bench warmer hoping to get subbed in. My team did so well that they lost in the semi-finals of the state-wide tournament, earning the runner-up title. This caught the eye of a New York professional club called the New York Cosmos. They invited my team to scrimmage at halftime of one of their games that had thousands of people in attendance including the soccer legend Pele, who would be attending. Even though I played pretty well at halftime knowing that Pele was watching, I looked around at the crowd of people and at Pele and knew that I didn’t deserve to be there. Everyone on my team carried me to that position. As the sixth grade came around, I moved schools and joined a jiu-jitsu gym. The coach turned out to be similar to my soccer coach, he was a tough-love type of guy. The coach broke us up into groups, I was with the new kids, and we first learned the very basics, I soon started to get the hang of it. I started sparring with people on my own level, and every day I noticed I was getting better. Now that I was moving through skill groups quite quickly there was no one point or one person to compare myself to but instead, I had to compare myself to myself from an earlier time. Instead of blaming myself for not being as good, I started asking myself if i had improved. This discovery focused my energy on me instead of bouncing it off other people. I started to develop my own style of jiu-jitsu relying heavily on submissions. Before every sparring session, I would always be the first to ask “Are submissions allowed”. Discovering this new way of thinking helped me improve to the point where I could have a good sparring match with a purple belt; I also felt happier focusing on my improvements. I joined my high school’s soccer team and turned out to be one of, if not the, best players on the team. This experience further exposed how silly it was to compare myself to others. The worst player in the soccer club took three years off and then was one of the best at my high school.
State Dependent Writing Exercises
Writing Minesis: To find inspiration, I looked at some of my favorite songs and wrote the lyrics down, this was great because I had a good idea of what I was going to use before I even looked through the text. my writing changed pretty drastically. I was writing a lot more fluently and organized. My sentences followed, similar structures, and I had a similar theme. A lot of my writing also seemed to have a similar mode as the writing I looked up prior. I think this may be an interesting way to change or alter the style of your writing just by reading something different before starting to write. Next time if I am trying to get my writing to be in a certain mood I may try this exercise to help me write in the correct mood. There was one downside, since I was only reading, copying, and studying some of the lyrics some of the songs got stuck in my head. I think this may have led me to stick with the same topic, and didn’t let my right flow as much as I would have liked. It was definitely an interesting experience, but I would have probably spent less time getting inspiration because it felt like too much of my time went to that instead of writing.
Writing Following Hormesis/Stress: Before writing this time, I took a pretty long bike ride, it was longer than the time stated, but hopefully, that just adds to the exercise. When I started writing, I noticed that I was very jittery, and tried to get to the main point as quickly as I could, I was missing many details and had a very straightforward style of writing. this made my writing start off, very concise and lacking in character. This was probably because I did it straight after, about a minute after I finish biking. But about five minutes after I started writing, my writing started to get more detailed and started to flow better. This was because I was probably calming down. I didn’t enjoy writing this as much as I do normally, probably because I was not in the right mood to sit still for an extended period of time. I also felt like I was trying to get it over with because I had to do other things like a shower, it just felt like I wasn’t set up to sit down and write. Although this strategy didn’t help my writing, I can see how some people may improve from doing this, the exercise can spice up writing, but I just don’t think it’s my thing.
1. At first, we needed a prank idea, but no one had a great one that didn’t have great punishments. Some of the ideas included doing the cup in the hallway thing, but we were sure we would get caught before we could finish it, and there was also a lot of cleanup that had to be done afterward. But when someone suggested a water gun fight in school, most people were on board until we realized the many drawbacks, such as getting mold into the walls or possibly the carpet, or maybe bringing a bunch of water guns to school secretly was a bad idea, so we thought about water balloons. Before the end of the school day, we filled 2-3 buckets with water balloons. and slightly before school ended, the seniors (us) walked out and started grabbing water balloons and throwing them at each other. This resulted in a bunch of teachers coming outside to look at what was going on, but all the teachers that came out were good teachers, so we didn’t throw it at the teachers, we did throw it at some kids we were semi-cool with, but it was mostly a fight between the seniors. When I tried chucking it hard at my friend John, who was standing about 60ft away from me (this was an all-out war; we took over the sidelines and had a dead zone and everything), a girl that i knew walked in front of it, and I threw the balloon (nonitentanaly) at her face, going mok 10. She was shocked, but we laughed it off after the fact. Everyone was soaked, and it was one of the most fun times i had in high school.
2. I remember playing on the bed when I was between 2-3. This was my earliest memory. I remember trying to crawl away from my sister because she annoyed me. Just as I thought I was getting away, she grabbed my right leg, and I thought, “Oh my god, how?” It was just a feeling, and I didn’t know how to speak well yet. This was a memory that I never thought was real because it was likely from a dream or something like that. But when I was rewatching recordings of me as a child, I saw it happen! Same bed, same position, same direction i was crawling, same leg grabbed, it was a 100% match. This made me realize that I give credibility to memories, and some of them i get wrong, like this one. And I’m sure some of my memories are really far from what actually happened.