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May 11, 2020

i am a big kid now

Filed under: Uncategorized —— Rafael @ 11:17 pm

These last three years at PGJH have been somewhat of a messy renaissance painting to me. It started out as a white canvas and now even the back is decorated with a singular story which branches out to other sub-stories. I went through a ton of things this past year in specific, and something tells me that I’ll remember ninth grade more than any school year in my life. My friendships finally solidified, and I learned so much from these relationships. I made soup with Ashley, talked to Thomas about how to practice my ollies, went as a homeless Joker at a Halloween party alongside Sergio, and learned guitar chords from Fletcher. I did so many… things,  that I wonder – will my life in Wyoming ever amount to how it was here? The sad truth is that I don’t know. But I guess I’ll learn how to drive here, and get a clean slate as less of a loud-mouthed clown and more of a kid who wants to focus on their schoolwork. In short, this year was the completion to a piece I painted with my eyes closed. I’m happy with the results, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to replicate the piece again, even if I do it with my eyes open.

Thank you.

[pictured] no caption.

April 28, 2020

whats the code? 111, uhhhhhh, 1

Filed under: Uncategorized —— Rafael @ 12:00 am

I’d like to consider my code of conduct very simple – being respectful to those who I deem worthy. It sounds really stupid, I know, but it’s got meaning behind it. If I’m nice to everybody then people will be nice to me, and then I won’t have people bothering me so much. I can’t take this anymore. I hate writing these prompts sometimes, man! It sucks sometimes! I struggle to do touch typing which my mother has forced me into adopting. AHHH! I am in pain. Kanye’s music is really good, wow. He goes well with Kendrick Lamar, you know. NMPLA is actually one of my favorite songs which features both artists.

[pictured] kanye

April 27, 2020

good stuff from tkam

Filed under: Uncategorized —— Rafael @ 5:35 am

“There are some men in this world who are born to do our unpleasant jobs for us. Your father’s one of them.”

This is what Miss Maudie tells Jem and Scout after inviting the two for some lane cake at her house. I liked this quote because it shows the difficulty that comes with Atticus’ job as a lawyer. He knew that there would be obstacles ahead of him if he took to defending Tom. And yet he still took it because of his empathy towards the innocent man. He knew nobody else would do it either. He was strong-willed enough to have deliberately chosen to take a job that nobody else would. That truly is selflessness. If it comes down to it, I think the two words that best describe Atticus’ character are simply ’empathy’ and ‘selflessness.’

court scene in to kill a mockingbird

consider the following

Filed under: Uncategorized —— Rafael @ 4:40 am

“My name is Tom Robinson. I’m 25 years old. My house is in the northeast section of Maycomb, near the town dump, and I am married and have children. I work as a field worker for Link Deas’ cotton fields, and I get home every day by 8 PM at the latest. I don’t smoke, but I occasionally drink. I’m in bed by 11 PM, and make sure I get at least six hours of sleep, no matter what. After having a glass of water and doing about twenty minutes of stretches before going to bed, I usually have no problems sleeping until morning. Just like a baby, I usually wake up with little fatigue in the morning. I’m trying to explain that I’m a person who wishes to live a very quiet life with my family. I take care not to trouble myself with anybody, and usually no interest in minor things like winning or losing, lest it affect me and my family or cause me to lose sleep at night. That is how I deal with society in Maycomb, and I know that is what brings me happiness. Although, the rape allegations against my name are damaging my image, which I certainly do not find good for me or my family’s wellness. I am also speaking like an English professor because Rafael forgot to give me my accent and doesn’t want to add it because he still hasn’t pissed.”

[Pictured] tom robinson

blind spots

Filed under: Uncategorized —— Rafael @ 4:13 am

People sometimes forget that empathy exists. It’s easy to sometimes. Some people just don’t think deep enough about their actions, and forget the sometimes apathetic nature of them. In the end, I think that the simplest approach to helping these kinds of people recover from the disease that is temporary ignorance is to let them know. Nah, I joke. Beat the tar out of these people. What are they gonna do, fight back? Nah man. Just punch harder than they do. Violence is always the answer. You can’t stop me if I’m making your head into a red paste, can you? Tell me. Can you?

[Pictured] me after urinating lord save me i need to urinate

April 20, 2020

havent done anything

Filed under: Uncategorized —— Rafael @ 3:15 am


[pictured] help me

March 24, 2020

strange fruit

Filed under: Uncategorized —— Rafael @ 6:52 am


I remember I was sitting in my bed contemplating whether or not I should do my work in Mr. Green’s google classroom (which i did not do until today) and stumbling upon the assignment that dealt with a poem by the name of ‘Strange Fruit.’ I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it a read, and when I tried to read the document linked to the assignment, there was an error. Curiosity has sticky fingers; once it latches them onto you, you cannot escape its grasp. Due to this, I figured I’d search up a reading of the poem on youtube. After enjoying a piece of Kanye’s fine work which featured the poem, I stumbled across Billie Holiday’s song ‘Strange Fruit.’ And so I listened to it.

The song begins with the gentle thud of a piano, directly followed up by the thick molasses-like drag of a muted trumpet. The noise this trumpet makes immediately delivers a feeling of hopelessness; not so much as a hint of joy lingers in the sound. Throughout the song, it continually feels like an audible version of sheer sadness, shed in between the pauses which Holdiay masterfully sews in alongside the music. She speaks of the strange fruits that the southern United States trees bore; their leaves and roots were stained crimson, the eyes bulged and the mouths disformed. Once before, these fruits smelled pleasant. Now they stunk an odor of flesh eroded by fire and sorrow. These fruits walked the path that the wind walked, desperately attempting to escape attachment from the branches of the tree they hung from. These fruits would be left to bake in the sun, sometimes in groups, sometimes alone, until eventually, the constant grip of gravity would free them from their punishment. There, the soil would consume them, allowing these fruits, born from hatred and rage, to rest the sleep that they never had. And with that, the song ends much more heavy than it did when it began, leaving the listener in a state of stillness, gripping their seats whilst in an adamantine state of questioning – “Did this really happen?”

When I finished the song, I was dumbfounded at the hollow and dull feeling this song had implanted within me. I was in a trance of doubt. I listened to the song a few more times, and found a disturbing beauty to it – a unique one which I had never had the fortune (or misfortune) to have felt. This song displays the worst of the human, unburying the deep turmoils gone unnoticed to many. And yet, never does it bring up words that directly even associate to man, minus once. And for that reason, I will forever consider this my favorite poem. The symbolism is pristine and unmatched.

[Pictured] emotion

how i’m dealing with this coronavirus stuff

Filed under: Uncategorized —— Rafael @ 5:54 am

this is ridiculous. i cannot stand any of the work i am forced to do in mr. green’s class. i feel no motivation, and all i have been doing this past week is practicing my guitar and enjoying the luxury of a room in the snowy mountains of wyoming. i do not have time to care about what it means when a black woman sings about the still silence and eeriness of a black body; one which swings in the southern winds of the united states. i do not care. i am going insane. i need to be loud and disruptive in mr. earl’s class. i need to make fun of all the kids in my seminary class. i need to have social interaction with people that aren’t familiar lunatics like me. send help, and send mercy.

[pictured] LET ME OUT PLEASE

March 11, 2020

real courage

Filed under: Uncategorized —— Rafael @ 7:50 pm

Courage is hard for most humans to produce. Whereas before in hunting-gathering times, our ancestors would be able to tear woolly mammoths in half like cheese, with little to no fear or doubt in their heads, some now struggle to talk to a crowd bigger than seven people. I guess this is because we are downgrading. We don’t need to use our muscles as much anymore because we don’t do anymore. Wait, this is about courage. Right, sorry. Uh, courage used to be the idea that a man could kill an animal larger and more dangerous than him and bring it home to his tribe. Times have changed. Courage is now about doing the right thing, even if it means persecution. It is knowing that you are in the midst of ridicule, hatred, and loss, and yet, still fighting for it. It is knowing that you’re in the high chances of failure. Courage has changed from an endurance mind-set to a bravery one against most odds.


[Pictured] courageous skin care

March 4, 2020


Filed under: Uncategorized —— Rafael @ 8:53 pm

I really like hockey. Like, it’s the sport I’m best at. I like going offensive and running over to the puck in an inhumane way which leads to ridicule from people like Cy Hamilton or whatever his name is. It’s very good, and I was even bestowed the honor of being team captain for my PE team. However, today, as of writing this (3/4/20), I committed the cardinal sin of offering to be the team’s goalie, to which I am not at all good at. I think you can ask Thomas, and he’d tell you that I played really bad as goalie. Against a really good team, I failed mine, because I wasn’t good enough. So why does this matter? It doesn’t. I just wanna make it seem like I’m writing about why persistence matters. Maybe you can make some really dramatic stretch about the story and say that I played as goalie despite the knowledge that I’d fail, but whatever. I’m mad that I didn’t do good enough for the team.

[Pictured] turkey

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