My Final Metacognition
“Goodbyes make you think. They make you realize what you’ve had, what you’ve lost, and what you’ve taken for granted.”
– Ritu Ghatourey
Well, here we are. Fenn is over. Not over for the summer, but over over. My incredible times here were cut short by an incredible circumstance. It still hasn't sunk in for me. I understand that I will never be able to enjoy another Fenn school day, but I am just bliss. I want this final metacognition to be great. I want to end my years here right. Like the last taste of a dinner, it cant be sour, yet, it seems the milk was expired. Expired right as the last hope of returning to Fenn faded. The memory of those milky white pants were spoiled. The blue blazers never to be worn. Blasphemy. Pictures by proud parents never to be posted on their page. You can go about your ways with sorrow, or try to make the best of it, and right now, I want to mope. I want to reflect. I want to just be in my little pity pool,
Fitz wants me to reflect on my journey in English, so I guess I'll leave my Fenn introspection to another day. I started off in Fitz class as an OK writer who just wrote because he was told to. While that still hasn't changed yet, my enjoyment during those assignments has improved greatly. I used to HATE writing because it was just doing what the teacher asked and I couldn't write well then. Now I can write better ( I'm no Mark Twain) and just enjoy what I am writing about, even if its not my choice. I have found a nice place were just going to a pages doc for a free write is therapeutic. It's writing my feelings, which wouldn't sell to many hardcover copies in the real world or make it onto the New York Times Best-Seller list, but that is exactly why I am going to miss Fenn the community is incredible. The entire class gets to read about my feelings every week, and they give me insight on how to improve my writing. They are forced too, but I'm sure you guys care at least a little, while the average person on the street would care a whole 0%.
You, and I mean you reading this, could go on stage in front of the whole school, fail miserably, and still get an applause. Do you remember that time that during the upper school talent show when two or three kids went up to the piano spontaneously, and just played a simple melody? It was terrible, but we all gave it a standing ovation. This showed how supportive we are, but more importantly, the vibrance in that room was something else. The feeling of inclusion no matter what was overpowering. the weight of realizing all of the people around you are well-rounded boys was unbelievable. It just made me understand how special Fenn is. Coming in as a shy little 4th-grader left me the idea that I will be stuck in this school for 5 years, yet, to even think that, was insulting. Fenn is so much more than just a school. I have blossomed into my real self over my time at Fenn. Fenn is truly where boys thrive.
From this blank page, I have given life to a metacognition. My thoughts overflow my head and drip, drip, drip, onto the paper, giving it life. The bar cells called punctation keep it from flowing on to the ground. It dances off to see its friends in my blog after it gets its thorough polish from me, the Frankenstein and then played with by all of you right now. It is seen as a noble artifact, but also me. When you are reading this. You are thinking of me right now. Not like that, but you are cross-referencing my previous writing you remember with this right now to see how you will like it. If my previous splashes were grey and bland, undercooked, but this piece you determine is high quality because the splashes don't rub your fur the wrong way, then I have succeeded, but alas, if my work were to be worse than your perceived standard, then you must pity me.
"Good work Eli! This was a great piece. I liked the part where wrote down words." Your grimace is as big as you feel. You feel superior, I suppose. You are the victor. Congratulations! You have won the fake situation you made up inside your head, which I made up. I don't know how this relates to English, but how about we call that metametacognition above an example about how my writing has improved. See, my writing has improved, but the glue keeping it together is getting old; it's falling apart.
Thank you, Fenn. You have made my last five years full of improvement and fun times. Honestly, Thank you. I guess any higher power up there didn't want us to say goodbye properly.
Well, time to spruce up my ink splashes.
I am but a sailor on the rough tides upon us.
My ship nothing but driftwood on the beast that we call the present.
My cremates just as fearful as I.
The rumors told me docks were closed until the storm passed,
but there might be some cleanup.
Our scurry to the other lands
was most definitely canceled, and so were my mates.
Worrying is the least of our worries
Death shall come.
I knew those docks won't open for us
The dockers only know to close
because they were told
The dirty dockers only listen to high up stuck ups, who can't keep their mouth shut.
I didn't leave my family to pass this way.
Instead of a flower bed, all I get is the dread of a watery grave.
"Oh, we will let you in," they say, with their grins as big as their lies they spout from their disgusting face.
I know it is to protect others.
Are you kidding?
Yes, I'm dead to the storm brewing ahead, but what about those souls who work every day, and will die to the freezing cold water then?
What will they say?
Changes come with grief
”One day everything that you worried about before will be gone and all that you will be thinking about is the good times that you had back then.“
“Damn,” I said full of wistfulness. The thought of leaving Fenn is almost heartbreaking. Everyone must go through a point like this; Learning to deal with forlorn times.
Tough times with high school and leaving Fenn
“To say goodbye is to die a little.”
"Another one of Eli's long rants about something not that important." you think. Little did you know, that is entirely true, but this time, it's full of introspection.
My expectations for my high school times are not clear, even too me, but I'll try to lay them out for you. This year I'll be attending either Concord Academy or St. Marks, and I'm leaning towards CA. I have to make up my mind today, so I'll let you guys know where I'm going. As most parents do, my mom wants me to try new things at my high school, which I most certainly will, but I will do it in my own way. I think I want to try crew; CA doesn't have it, but if I go to St. Marks, I will definitely try it. I feel that I would be good at it, considering my size. I would try ceramics again and throw more bowls. I would join clubs and do even more things that would take too long to describe so I'm just going to move on.
Time is a powerful being with all in its grasp
It takes what it wants
It shows you how small you are compared to it
It may make you,
It may ruin you.
It whips you and beats you down until you are nothing but a husk of a person,
but you can't let it.
Take that beating each day, and work it towards success
Work it to be your ally, not your master which rules upon you.
When you see that clock whizzing by like a speed demon, realize that you can make each moment count.
Self-improvement, family time, hobbies.
Sink your teeth into the juicy flesh of life.
Make every moment count, because one day, it will most definitely be stripped from you.
There is no doubt about it.
Make the most of the time you have left.
I mean, what do you expect?
I hope that one day I will grow up, and these horrid times will be nothing but a distant gray memory. I want everything to go well in my life. My parents invest their souls into me. I'm their gold puppet, exploring the world like it is made for me. They are a shield to me, stopping the bullets of reality, protecting me from the shrapnel that is now. I want to be grateful for tall the things I have, but sometimes it is hard to realize it. Growing up with everything is amazing, but I feel guilty because sometimes I am not the best child in the world. I live currently in a constant sad and angry state. Corona screwed up my last year at Fenn, and everybody else's plans. I will miss these easy times in high school though. When I have 3-4 hours of homework a night, plus long, long commute, I will miss the 1 hour of homework maximum during virtual learning. I write mainly about feelings, but when Fitz tells us to do one of his cookie-cutter Power of _____ I reluctantly do it. Organized writing feels fake. It is barely writing. Welp, this took me 30 minutes because I was thinking too hard. I know he said not to, but it is hard. I like free writes much more.
Just more information about my style
Music is the universal language of mankind.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Round three baby, let's finish this.
Music is today topic of choice. I will make sure to call whatever I am sincerely writing about "stupid" or "boring" so in case anyone else doesn't like it, I don't feel attached to it, and I'm not stupid or boring. :)
I listen to a lot of music, in fact, I am listening to a song right now. I think I have already written about music before on my blog, so sorry if this is a bit repetitive.
How some dirty leaves made my family better
"You leave home to seek your fortune and, when you get it, you go home and share it with your family."
It was a windy cold day. The brisk winds blowing up against our bodies, the troubling task ahead of us, and our will to save money. With my pajamas and winter coat, I walked outside reluctancy. The plastic tool dragging behind me, scraping the pavement.
Lyricist and one hell of a character
”I’m sorry if I hurt you. I’m sorry if it got that bad. I’m sorry if I can’t help you. Somebody should of had your back.”
Some songs can just connect to one’s soul. I can relate to this incredibly. One artist who I connect with is Oliver Tree. Oliver Tree is a 26-year-old songwriter and singer. He has almost 4 million monthly listeners on Spotify. I discovered him about 3 years ago. The reason I like his work so much is because of all of the meaning behind it, and his elusive character. Almost every single song he has writing has deep meaning to it. Like for example, Miracle Man, to my best interpretation, is about how you can’t spend your time waiting for a miracle. You have to get up and do something.
My thoughts on humanity's situation
"Vulnerability is basically uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure."
Lets talk Covid.
How have you been feeling in these times of uncertainty? These lines I keep hearing almost every day. The constant concern, which don't get me wrong, its good, but some privacy would be nice. The media feels like it is on fire. Every day there is something new. I don't want to underplay the severity of this whole issue, But it just feels like it is being overblown. It is very sad that people are dying. I hope some cure comes out soon. The cases in mass are scary high. they keep rising exponentially. Unlike some people I know, I don't believe it is a government hoax. Crazy huh.