the bird on fire

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Loneliness

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By Guest Blogger Jackson Dean

 

As I write this, Blog, Publications Club, and Book Club are traveling to Los Angeles on a field trip to The Last Bookstore. They will be in LA for the entire day. As I write this, I understand, for the first time in my life, the feeling of loneliness. The members of the class and clubs are my go-to, my emotional support, the type of friends that are there for you always. I’m attached to them, probably in an unhealthy way, but nonetheless attached. For the first time, none of them are here to talk to, to laugh with, to enjoy each other’s company. For the first time, I feel like I have, in all honesty, no one. I am alone. I have no voice, no confidence. My cheery disposition is currently vacant as it searches for something to give, but to no avail. I never understood just how much these people mean to me, until this moment, this moment of gray, this moment of quiet, this moment of loneliness. As I look at this moment, I am brought to another moment that has yet to come. Another moment where this loneliness will occur, but hasn’t yet–

 

June, 2019–When my class, my brothers and sisters since Kindergarten, will throw off their caps with me as we leave our high school careers and start another life, away from each other. June, 2019–When I hug my go-to’s from lower grades for the last time. June, 2019–When the people that gave me a voice, that gave me confidence, will no longer be a part of my life. June, 2019, and possibly for a long time afterwards–When this feeling of loneliness will sink in once more and tug at my heart as it does now.

 

I love all of you. From the bottom of my heart, I truly, wholeheartedly love you. Whether you are in my class of 2019, or 2020, or 2021, I think of you as my brother or sister. I am nothing without you. You make me something. You give me that voice. You give me that confidence. You make me who I am, and I will never forget that.

 

Editor: Claire Jenkins

“I’m Tired”

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Writer-Blogger Claire welcomes in the new year. Suggestion: Read it aloud.

 

By Claire Jenkins

 

This is a symbolic representation that shows how most high schoolers are feeling right now. High School is constantly putting pressure on students — the curriculum gets harder, and the students struggle to keep up. This is almost a piece of poetry in a sense. It is a figurative piece that may seem simple at first, but once you look closer you will realize that this is a concept piece that shows how the education system is constantly pulling students apart.

 

I’m Tired

I’M TIred

I’M TIRed

I’M TIREd

I’M TIRED

I’mmmmmmmmmmm tiredddddddddddddddddd

**I ‘ m  t i r e d**

i’M tireD

 

help me

 

Editor: AJ Patencio

Bears, Wolves, and Dragons–Issue 1, The Beginning: Prologue

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Beginning of a Novel Series by Charles Schnell

 

Charles outlined a novel/series. He liked it, so he wrote how he imagined it would begin. This is its prologue.

 

Dashuri Jetë was a small, short-haired, blue-eyed, five-year-old boy looking through his telescope at his window. He gazed at the stars freely. His imagination was bursting out of his heart as he hopefully and anxiously pictured all those other worlds out there, wishing he could go to them.

He usually peered through the telescope with his right eye, but tonight he looked with his left, for his right was bloody and swollen. His knees were scraped; his soul desolate.

Behind him, the sound of his door slightly creaking open interrupted his thoughts as his mother pushed it open all the way.

“Hi, Mommy,” the young boy said.

“Hey,” she replied, “I’m sorry I was late picking you up today, honey.”

“It’s okay…”

“It’s not okay. Look at what those boys did to you.”

“They woulda’ done it anyway….” Dashuri spoke quietly as he kept looking at the stars.

The pale blue and yellow-painted walls of his room were covered with various decorations, ranging from posters of sports stars to celestial charts. Toys, games, and papers used for writing stories layered the tan carpet. The fan spun quietly and slowly, as if it was peacefully dying. His two bookshelves were filled with comics, puzzle books, and children’s literature pieces such as The Magic Tree House, Geronimo Stilton, and Reddy Freddy.

“Why were you late, Mommy?”

“I had an important meeting with my publisher, sweetie.”

“Pub-lish-er?”

“I’ll explain it to you when you’re older…”

Dashuri turned back to his telescope and focused in on the biggest, brightest dot in the vast, freckled dark.

“Hey, what’s that star?”

“Which one, Dash?” His mother walked over and took his place behind the telescope.

“That one.” He pointed at it.

“Hmm, it’s probably Venus.”

“Can humans go there?”

“Not yet, but maybe someday…. Perhaps, you could be the first.”

“I want to do that.” Dashuri again looked through the telescope. “I want to go to a star, and stay there forever.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like this world. It’s mean.”

“Why don’t you try to make this one nicer?”

“I can’t.”

“Of course you can.”

“But it’s not my fault. It’s everyone else’s. I just want friends. Friends are only on a better world.” He rubbed at the lens of the telescope. “I want to live in a better world, a nicer world,” he said peering through the telescope again.

“When you’re an adult, baby, you’ll have more friends than you could ever want.”

“Really?”

“I promise. With hard work and faith, you can do anything… Except convince your mother to let you stay up past your bedtime.”

“But Mom…”

“It’s a school night, Dash.”

“Can you at least read me a story?”

“Of course I will.”

Dashuri’s mother pulled his blue Buzz Lightyear sheets over him, and opened another fairy tale. Dashuri always laughed when she read it to him. Her delivery was perfect.

His mother put the book away and stood at the door frame saying, “Goodnight, Dashuri.”  

“Goodnight, Mommy.”

He fell asleep quickly, dreaming about all the worlds the universe holds. And, there was one world, many galaxies away . . . .

 

###

 

Editor: Brennan Nick

What It’s Worth

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By Naturalist Poet Pete

What’s it worth?

What’s the worth in protecting the great outdoors? What dollar amount can be assigned

To open meadows, rolling hills, and swift streams? What are they worth

Once they are caught and defined? What is the profit of seeing the Grand Canyon strip-mined?

In blasting the mountains and depleting the veins? in taking the treasures beneath the earth?

There is something golden on the surface. There are green treasures that tower above,

Ancient giants from ages past, enduring symbols that are the heart of the forest.

They are the guardians of the old worlds and sentinels of life, creatures deserving of our love.

We must defend them; we must not soften. We must be undaunted in our noble quest.

There is a value in the untouched world, not in dollars but in the human soul.

Editor: Charles Schnell

Hate/Love

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By Jackson Dean

Hate doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints;

It takes, and it takes, and it takes.

Hate is not patient. Hate is not kind.

Hate steals, a thief that hides in plain sight.

Hate is a never-vacant motel that will always find room for you.

Hate is sadness, tearing at your very soul to make you weak.

Hate is not just a feeling. It is the never-ending pit that you think is inescapable.

Hate is a dark tunnel that attempts to block out all light.

Hate is feeling you are trapped inside a blank void, inside literal nothingness, and being unable to break free.

Hate is that voice that tells you you are not worthy and that you are just a useless “thing” taking up space.

Hate is deafening in its attempt to take Love away…

But Love is louder.

Love doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints,

It takes, and it takes, and it takes.

But, Love is patient; Love is kind.

Love gives.

Love’s home has plenty of room and never charges for entry.

Love is happiness, lifting you up even at your most low.

Love is so much more than a feeling.

Love is the blinding light inside of any dark tunnel.

Love is being found, even when the dark is crashing through.

Love is there for you.

When you crumble, Love is there.

When you fall, Love is there.

When you feel like nothing, Love is there.

No matter what, Love is there for you,

Always.

*Inspired by Jackson’s undying love for Hamilton.

Editor: Claire Jenkins

 

Murder Mystery: New Letters Received

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Case 4501 Update  

Submitted by Officers Shelby Armor and Claire Jenkins

Additional evidence has surfaced in Case 4501–The Demise of Ben Snyder. A written note, with what appears to be a cough-drop wrapper on it, was found in Detective Armor’s office, and a small typed note was found in Captain Kadel’s living room.

 

Photo 1: Contents of letter left in Capt. Kadel’s living room. Unidentified text font. 

*Transcript of Letter: “don’t trust the janitor. she’s concealing something. she knows more than she is revealing.”

 

 

Photos 2 + 3: Message left in Detective Armor’s office. Same handwriting as first letter found in Capt. Kadel’s squad car weeks ago. Take note of cough-drop wrapper and threatening tone. 

*Transcript of Letter: “I have a question. Do you trust each other? Plan your next steps very carefully . . . . See you soon. I’ll be waiting.”

*Transcript of Letter, page 2: “A gain always comes with a loss. I hope his death was worth the information! I can’t wait to see how you all handle this in court.” (Referencing the demise of informant Jackson Dean)

 

Photos 4 + 5: Detective Jenkins examines handwritten letter. 

Reviewed by Superintendent Patencio and Agent on Special Assignment Vazquez

The Road Less Traveled

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By Peter Kadel

Last month, I went to the Schoepe Scout Reservation at Lost Valley to work as a volunteer for one of the off-season events. The entire weekend was packed with activities and shenanigans that made my time up there enjoyable. The event itself was not the only fun part; the journey there was also a part of the adventure. This is not because I don’t like the camp, but because to reach the camp I drive up a series of windy mountain roads that culminate in a ten-mile dirt road–a dirt road that is legend among the Boy Scouts of Southern California and parts of Arizona.

“The Road,” as we call it, is a bumpy, windy, washed-out, pot-hole-covered, ten-mile gauntlet that acts as the only public land entrance to the camp. The only other entrances to the camp are by helicopter or through an Indian Reservation. The road has quite the reputation with those who frequently drive to the camp. While the faint of heart may dread the long drive to Lost Valley, I cherish it. I would rather drive down a ten-mile dirt road through a stunning wilderness landscape that makes me feel at peace than drive for one mile on I-10 or any busy freeway in America.

Windy roads are more fun to drive once you have the hang of driving them. The rougher terrain and the sharper turns on windy dirt roads are much more engaging than straight busy highways. You can’t use cruise control or go on mental autopilot. The looser terrain also allows for sliding or drifting, which can be really fun as long as you are careful. The thrill of a fast turn of a dirt road is quite the adrenaline rush when you do it right. And, aside from the obvious fun, a windy dirt road signifies a separation from hustle-and-bustle cities and the trappings of society that in the end don’t really matter.

On my drive home, I actually had to stop driving for a good five minutes so I could just take in the beautiful vista before me, breathe in the clear air, exist for a minute in this paradise with a sky so blue that it took my breath away. The spiritual benefits cannot be replicated on busy highways. If that doesn’t convince you of the benefits of off-road driving, then consider this: when I’m on a major highway, I see people exchanging insults and honking at each other. In the backwoods, I barely see a soul. And, when I do, they’re kind-hearted people with a respect for nature and for those around them. The experiences found off the beaten track and in the heart of nature are something that everybody needs and most don’t get enough of. So go; find them.

Editor: Shelby Armor

A Post on Post Malone

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By Freelance Music Critic & Guest Blogger Holden Hartle

In recent weeks, I have come to a shocking conclusion; Post Malone is one of the greatest artists of our generation. Now I realize how I’ve already offended people and this is only the second sentence, but I have my reasons. Hear me out.

First of all, he has an amazing backstory. In an interview with Noisey, he explains that school wasn’t really his thing. So, on very short notice and with no money, he moved to Los Angeles with a friend on a promise that he would eventually pay him back. Post was huge into gaming. One day, he went to a friend’s house who told him to check out this new game. The game was Guitar Hero 2. This started Post’s ambition towards pursuing music as an actual career.

Then he came out with “White Iverson.” After years and years of waiting, he finally released it. And boy did it blow up. He released the song on his Soundcloud account and soon afterwards the song went four times platinum and reached number fourteen on the US Billboard Hot 100.

“White Iverson” brings me to my second point, his beats. “White Iverson” features a typical hip hop drum beat, but a beautiful piano in the background. Now I have never really liked R & B, but Post Malone is changing my mind. “White Iverson” just speaks to me in a way that no other song has in the past couple years.

My final point is his personality. Post definitely has a style, and it’s not necessarily orthodox. He has admitted to wearing tuxedos everyday to school in his childhood. He has also admitted to wearing penny loafers and jeans that would go up to his belly button. All of these allude to the fact that he doesn’t care about what anyone thinks. He is his own person and that’s all that matters. I think we can all learn something from Post in that aspect.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Editor: Claire Jenkins

Snyder Case Update: Witness Interview #0125

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Concerning the murder of junior Ben Snyder, we have identified a witness account from a janitor on the site at the time of the murder. Detective Jenkins, one of our best, met with this witness for a brief interview.

 

 

Interview with PVS Nighttime Janitor, 27 September 2017

 

If you have information regarding Case #4501, leave it in the Comment Section! Work with your fellow students to see who did the dastardly deed to Ben.

 

Information verified by Prosecutor Charles Schnell