Thornton Academy – AP Language 2018-2019

The universe is approximately 1.9 x 10^22 times larger than Earth (futurism.com).  That is, undeniably, a large number.  And that sentence, undeniably, is an incredible understatement.  I can use any number of descriptors—humongous, colossal, gargantuan—but the human brain is simply not capable of comprehending such a number.  Perhaps our incapabilities explain the sheer size of the universe better than words can.

When considering that Earth is 3.5 x 10^6 times larger than a human, one may realize that our contribution to the universe—humongous, colossal, gargantuan—is negligible.

For some, that statement is enough to induce an existential crisis.  I find it relieving.

It is how, on my worst nights, I find solace outside.  Bundled in layers, bearing all the grace and appearance of the Michelin Man, I shuffle to the center of our lawn.  Corpselike, body stiff with winter cold and emotion, I lie down.  I do not need to know the exact size of the universe to see the thousands of stars blanketing the sky above me.  They twinkle, like wise men’s eyes, and whisper their secrets through the trees in my peripheral.  An infinite number of voices, speaking with unified purpose: to show the insignificance of my problems.

In the span of the universe, my issues are not important.  On Earth’s scale alone, they amount to 1/3.5 x 10^6 of the world.  That is, undeniably, a very small number.  And that, undeniably, is something that I have come to appreciate.  No matter how much of a disaster I may feel I’ve made, in the end, the only things my negligible existence can affect are those closest to me.  My peers, my friends, and my family are the only things in this universe I have the joy of interacting with on a scale of 1 to 1.

 

When people ask if I participate in any sports, I always respond that I am a distance runner. People have two reactions when they hear this. One is that they praise me for having the endurance to be a distance runner, or they call me crazy for running so far. Sometimes, it is a mix of both. However, distance running is not as crazy as it sounds. If you have the willingness and the commitment to get up and go on a run, you will get better at it like you would with anything else.

I have been running throughout high school, and I have seen a lot of people come and go. Runners with all the natural talent in the world, who can’t handle the work of distance running. Then there’s me. A short, scrawny kid with no natural athleticism. But, because I kept on running, I am now one of the top distance runners in the school. If I can do it, so can you.

Running is a sport that takes commitment. Believe me, it isn’t easy to drag yourself out of bed for a ten mile run on a cold Sunday morning. But I do it because I have the commitment and the willpower. Obviously, if you start distance running, you will not be running ten miles, but the case still applies. Get up, and go run two, three, or four miles. Go at whatever pace suits you. Keep running and you’ll eventually be doing ten mile runs like me.

Running is not as difficult as it is made out to be. Anyone without a serious medical condition can run, and with the right work ethic, they can be great at it. In distance running, it doesn’t matter if you’re big, small, muscular, or scrawny. You just have to get up and go

If you’ve ever cried in the middle of the night but still got up and started working and going to classes the next day, if you’ve ever been caught in a haze but still left a gap in your life to let the sun shine through, if you’ve ever been perplexed and disappointed in you life and fought with the the enemies you cannot see, if you’ve ever complained about your poor life and thought about giving up, you should listen to “Once I Thought About Ending It All” by Mika Nakashima.

Mika Nakashima is a Japanese singer and actress. Five of her studio albums, one of her mini-albums and one of her compilation albums have reached number one in Japan’s Oricon album chart. In 2010, Mika Nakashima, who started her career nearly 10 years ago, was diagnosed with abnormal patency of eustachian tube. She could not, and still cannot hear her own voice at all. She could not control the tune and the sound production, and her voice was also affected. She began breaking voice, losing the rhythms, and being out of tune at her live concerts, and she was always reviled and humiliated by her audiences. Losing hearing and voice, the two most important things for a singer, might be a deadly joke to Mika Nakashima made by the firmament. At the same year, she announced about stoping all musical activities temporarily due to illness. Mika Nakashima had looked for doctors in America, but unfortunately, she was told by the doctor that what she had was not treatable. During that period of time, she, using her own words, “sat on a bench in the Central Park in New York every day and spent days with ordeals and tears.” She had hope for trying, but the result was disappointing. She tried to get any treatment she could find, but reality hit her really hard.

However, Mika Nakashima loved her career too much to give up. She started to learn anti-gravity yoga, practice producing sounds over and over again, and spend a lot of time figuring out how to live with the illness. In 2011, Mika Nakashima returned to the stage even though she still could not hear herself or control the voice production completely. She was once a queen in the world of singing, but is now a fading, former singer. Mika Nakashima received a song called “Once I Thought About Ending It All (僕が死のうと思ったのは),” written by Hiromu Akita in 2013. After she listened to the demo of the song, she could not stop crying because she felt like the song was exactly the same as her own story, so she decided to sing it. In her live concert in 2013, she performed this song with her passion for singing and her hope for life. She talked about her life story before the performance, that although she’s smiling when she told people her experiences, she once had the thought about ending it all because of the illness and a life full of confusion. She said that she could not see the future and she cried every day, and that’s when she started voice training. She didn’t have much confidence in singing before, but she believed that she might be able to bring confidence to others. Rather than blaming herself for imperfect performances, she thought it would be better to try her best expressing her feelings and thoughts.

Many people found hope for life from Mika Nakashima’s story and singing. The suicide rate of 2013 in Japan had even dropped to the lowest compared to the records of former years. All the darknesses, disappointments, failures, and pains in our lives have tried to overwhelm our souls and pushed us toward the thought of giving up. Nonetheless, though the life is filled with all kinds of problems, the world is worth being expected because every one will move forward bravely for their loved ones and their dreams. For those we care, we should not choose to give up, but to live with hopes.

 

His fingers wander across the strings, dancing to the melody that they pluck from the surface of the instrument. He always has it, his precious ukulele whose chords have become the vowels of his voice and the epitome of his passions. Music is the muse of his life. Every word that leaves his lips is a lyric, every beat of his heart the drum of the song that he’s weaving together in his mind. His baritone is his battlecry, a birdsong in flight, but it echoes from behind bleak bars.

He is caged. He lives confined within the four corners of his bedroom walls, old and daunting friends that assure him of his solitude.

He is tired; tired of the personal punching bag that he’s become, tired of arriving home to fistfights of words and accusations, tired of protecting his brothers childhood at the price of his own.

He is so far away. He doesn’t forget it, either. Every Skype call seems to trace the miles of distance away from home, a bandaid over a bulletwound that gushes out the loneliness drowning him from within.

I see myself in him. It does nothing to ease the pain, but I tell him I know how he feels. I know what it feels like to lay in bed at night, completley and insufferably alone, anxious as the life you long for slips through the cracks of your fingertips and the anger and the sorrow and the sheer exasperation swallows you whole. I have known loneliness, I’m familiar with with the incessant lament that it sings, but not once have I heard him hum its tune.

The ukulele is a curious instrument, it is near impossible to make it sound sad.

His fingers are wandering across the strings, but they’re dancing to a tune of joy. He belts out hymns and songs of passion, his lyrics speak mostly of love.

He is lonely and he is tired, he has lived in shadow and has cursed his light, he has known hurt and has been betrayed. Still, the bird rises each morning with the sun and finds it in himself to sing.