The Poem of Life: By Phil Christodoulou

You start off on the bottom,

 and you work your way up

But once your'e there,

if you ever get there, you always fall

You get up; broken and hurt,

not knowing where to start

But just like the beginning, 

you make something for yourself

No matter what, you always fall

It is a part of the process

It may hurt and be hard,

But along the way you witness,

you achieve goals,

you see new things,

you become you,

through the struggle, comes happiness,

This is the meaning of Life

The True Meaning Of Life By: Briana Cotten

One can not be kind

without learning the true values in life. 

Finding people who you just can't work well with,

like attempting to mix oil and water. 

Having the world at your fingertips,

being able to make choices that will decide what life you chose to lead.

Before you learn the tender gravity of one's feelings,

you must experience the world.

Experience the sorrow,

the happiness,

and every moment in between. 

Having an open mind, 

treating others the way you want to be treated. 

Never let others destroy your happiness,

don't let them decide how you live YOUR life. 

The behavior of others, 

you cannot let damage your peace of mind.

One may not know the that the words you say-

have a real impact on those around you.

So chose carefully...

You're deciding the legacy and impact you want to leave. 

The more you live,

The more you learn.

The more you experience, 

The more you grow.

The more moments you go through,

The stronger you become. 

The more you learn to love

The more you learn to give back--

The better life will be.

Because we are what make this world go round.

A world without kindness...

is a world I do not want to live in. 

A wise man once said, "Human kindness has never weakened the stamina or softened the fiber of a free people. A nation does not have to be cruel to be tough" ~Franklin D. Roosevelt. 

Take this from me. Instead of being so quick to judge a person by their appearance, the color of their hair or even how they dress- take a step back. When you first meet someone pretend as if you are blind, take away your use of eyesight. Instead simply just listen. Listen to what they have to say, listen to how they treat others. This is the only way to find out how warmhearted the person may truly be. Not everyone has the looks, but that is not the most important thing. The true purpose in finding a good friendship, a good soulmate, a good overall human being is knowing who they are on the inside-- the out should not matter. 

Unknown Truths About Frankenstein by Grace Becker

By Grace Becker

Many people know of Frankenstein as the green, horrific monster that was scientifically brought back to life. However, they are mistaken. Just recently when I began to read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, I had figured out that Victor Frankenstein is actually the scientist who created this monster! Little did I know, there are many more things I didn't know about when it comes to not only the monster, but the author Mary Shelley as well. Something I found very interesting about the creation of this book was that it was written as a competition to see who could write the scariest ghost story. Due to the fact that Mary Shelley went through many tragedies in her lifetime, this also contributed to the gothic aspect of the story, making the story much more creepy. I also found it very interesting how at first this book was hated by many people. Apparently, critics very much disliked the idea of this book, whereas now it is read by so many and is known for it's creepy, yet suspenseful plot. Overall the suspense of this novel makes it very interesting to me because it continues to make me want to keep reading!

Why I'm Sad That I'm in High School//Mikayla Bivona

I very clearly remember my freshman year soccer banquet when my then captains Daniella Montesano, Taylor Nolan, and Hannah Lyden stood in front of me and my teammates and told us that we should cherish high school because it goes by way too fast. They weren't the only ones that had told me this. In fact, almost everyone had, and though so many people told me this, I never took it seriously.

I do now.

I realize every single day, how fast my teenage years are going by. We're sophomores now... almost halfway through our high school careers, and it's flying by faster than anything I've ever experienced. Some people say that High School was the best four years of their lives, and some say that it was their worst... but for me, it has so far been my best.

We're growing up incredibly fast. I drove past my old elementary school (Helen Morgan), and suddenly felt a wave of sadness wash over me. I realized how long ago that had been and how young I was. I recalled all my first friendships and my first crushes, my first teachers and my first real memories. Everything seemed so simple when we were kids.

When we were kids we became friends with someone else simply based on the fact that we both liked puppies and the color blue. Now, we take so many things into consideration. We think about the persons reputation, what they look like, what people might think if we're friends with them etc.. I truly miss my childhood. I miss the simpler times when my only concern was if I could fit all of my stuffed animals on my bed without any of them getting upset.

I meet with a group with Pass It Along every Monday, and we were told to go into small groups and write down a problem that we might be going through... every group aside from one wrote "Stress." Sadly... it makes sense. In high school, students start mapping out the rest of their lives... and it's not mystery as to why that is so stressful.

I miss my childhood, and I miss those memories. I had always been so excited to grow up so I could move out and start a life of my own and drive places... but now that I'm coming to that age extremely fast, all I want to do is stop time and live in every moment I have. And I think everyone should. Because we are growing up too fast, and when we're older and at our high school reunion, I truly hope that we can all look back on our four years in high school as the best years of our lives. Let's enjoy them.

Identity: Chapter 3 by Julia Young

Identity: Chapter 3-- Final
One head to the next, I was part of a machine. Stripped of my individuality, my ingenuity; my body was being used as a tool. Their feet mimicked the conveyer belt, while my hands mindlessly manipulated each object that came my way. The assembly line was further down, where another tool dressed them in uniform attire. Thirty minutes passed and I had already gone through six bodies. My mind was tied. I did this all without my own control. This wasn't me... I was inside this body, fighting for a way out. But instead, the walls that bounded me kept going. Body after body after body: buzzed, waxed, bald. At this point I was screaming, hanging on the hopes that I might wake up from this terrible nightmare. All was in vain, however. No matter how loud or long I cried out for, no one was going to save me. Helpless, I stopped. I stopped screaming. I stopped struggling. I stopped thinking. And I was dead again...
The hands below continued to do their job. Fastidiously creating sublime products; eight bodies this time-- a new record. A mindlessly mechanical routine, done with upmost prowess; The Man would be proud. Yes, The Man. You do know who I'm talking about, right? He is the mastermind behind all of this. Whipping us useless human beings into the largest living machinery in the world.  Every girl in Nebraska at the age of seventeen was to be abducted by a group of men in black, escorted to the warehouse. The Man called it his "Biomachinery Project", saying it would be his claim to fame-- Nebraska's claim to fame.  This was a private operation, and word about it never breached our state borders.
Of course upon our withdrawal from our normal lives this project sounded appalling. Although their names have been wiped from my memory, I am almost positive I had a family: a mom, dad, and two brothers. I suspect that they were good to me, for the girls chosen for the operation had to be in optimal conditions. What I do know for sure though is that like every other inhabitant of Nebraska, I knew what this "Biomachinery Project" was... even before I was actually abducted. Although it was preferred to keep it on the down-low, everybody talked about it. There were many rumors: rumors about the girls being starved, raped, drugged. Yet despite the horrible hear say we were told to go on with our lives as if it didn't exist. So, to cope with our inevitable fate, young girls often focused on the more positive rumors. For example, many said to have heard of girls snapping out of their programmed mindsets; regaining consciousness within their lifeless body, able to escape the system. However no one had ever seen a girl walk out alive, and as to my own experience here, I have never experienced one of these episodes of reality.

The end.

Art Appreciation by Claire Riley

In school we slave to do well in science, math, english, and history classes, these being known as the courses above all others. The thing is, what if I can't grasp the concept of history, or science? "You just aren't trying HARD enough," the teachers will say. Maybe i'm not, maybe I need to spend all of my time dedicated to studying these classes in which I know I WON'T be perusing in the future...but what good does that do? See the thing is, I like to spend the time in which I'm supposed to be studying for unpolished academic classes to rather commit myself to the arts. It can sometimes feel like the arts are forgotten, buried under the heavy layers of work and responsibilities given by academic classes. Personally, I intend to pursue acting and singing in my future, in which case I believe I will not need to remember EXACTLY how the phospholipid bi-layer is constructed or how to recite The 10 Amendments. What really irks me though is how the kids who really love the academic fields, and who really dedicate themselves to only those classes are praised high above others. This can leave others with an uncanny feeling of doubt, as if what they wish to practice isn't worth their time. I can easily prove otherwise.

Kids wishing to engulf themselves in other classes such as sculpture, choir, orchestra, band, or even another language are exercising parts of their brain that the 4 core classes can't do! Music classes have been proven to develop thinking skills and improve intellect. Studying other languages actually slows the aging of the brain and raises productivity. Even sports, if you want to call them an art, can activate the brain and provide it with oxygen. The Fine Arts Department of the Katy Independent School District states, "The arts enhance the process of learning. The systems they nourish, which include our integrated sensory, attentional, cognitive, emotional, and motor capacities, are, in fact, the driving forces behind all other learning." The truth is, art really does work on specific parts of our brain, and we need to encounter both core and art classes to truly develop a healthy mind.

So sure, I may not become a rocket scientist. This doesn't mean I'm "not trying hard enough." In this case, why is it that for science-y kids, being "bad" at art and music means "it's just not their niche?" In reality, I don't think everyone has an aptitude for science, math, history, or english, nor do they for the arts. All we can do is learn to know the basics, and continue to persevere in the classes we enjoy the most.

The Modern Prometheus

Josh Williams

The Modern Prometheus

Frankenstein, written by Mary Shelley, is a novel originally published in 1818.  Shelly tells the tale of Victor Frankenstein, a scientist obsessed with the concept of creating a new form of life.  This obsession eventually leads to the demise of both Victor and many of the people he holds dear.  Victor Frankenstein is widely considered to be the modern Prometheus, a prominent Titan in Greek Mythology.  The story of Prometheus can be found in Hesiod’s Theogony.  In this story, it is told that Prometheus was both the creator and benefactor of mankind.  To further the advancements and enlightenment of humanity, he stole fire from the gods to give to mankind.  In doing so, Prometheus went against the will of the gods.  Zeus was outraged by the his actions and sentenced him to an eternal punishment.  Zeus had him chained to a rock in Mount Kazbek in Georgia, where his liver was to be eaten by an eagle.  Due to his immortality, Prometheus’s liver grew back every night; only to be eaten by the eagle again the next day.  This cycle was intended to be carried out for eternity, but after many years, Prometheus was saved by Hercules.

Victor Frankenstein is often compared to Prometheus due to the motivations which they both possessed.  Victor, like Prometheus, sought enlightenment and the furthering of mankind.  In both instances, these protagonists are so obsessed with their causes that they are negligent to the consequences of their actions.  Victor Frankenstein acknowledges this when saying, “Learn from me… how dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge and how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be the world, than he who aspires to become greater than his nature will allow” (Shelly 38).  Frankenstein, when reflecting on his past, shares with Robert Walton the motivation that led to his downfall; this motivation being his desire for the acquirement of knowledge and greatness. Also, both Prometheus and Victor Frankenstein are severely punished for what they had done.  Although Victor Frankenstein was being punished by the monster, it is he who created and neglected it.  Subsequently, his punishment is seemingly everlasting.         

Prometheus, Painted by Jacob Jordaens in 1640