...

Last updated: 06/03/2026

Disclaimers and Warnings

This entry contains depictions of blood and gore.

Overview

Here are a couple passages I wrote for class!

Descriptive Passage

A low wire fence marks the edge of my elementary school property. I find myself behind it; I’ve been here many times before, but the fence felt only half as high as it used to be. Tree branches, both young and old, braid together to form an undergrowth of tangled greenery. Walkable paths, old and downtrodden, split through the vegetation like dusty rivers. Warm sunlight dappled the forest floor, flickering through the swaying canopy as it rustled in the afternoon breeze.

Taking a deep breath of fresh, springtime air, I pace a few steps further into the trees.

I stand at the edge of a short drop. My boots cling securely to the dirt underfoot, so I’m not worried about slipping down the steep ground. I’m surrounded by herbaceous young trees, their branches lavishly adorned with foliage. Each leaf faced the clear blue sky, each surface like an open umbrella prepared for the rain. Older trees tower above the forest floor, armored with ridgework of jagged bark. Young plants poke from between their wide trunks, peeking into the sun’s view almost shyly, like children sheltered by the comfort of their parent’s side.

Stood amongst the age-old trees, I can’t help but feel cradled in the cool shade cast by their presence. I, too, have become a child sheltered amid the elderly woods.

Vegetation surrounds the dusty clearing on all sides except forwards. There, the forest mirrors the mouth of a cave, sitting agape to reveal a familiar landscape beyond.

I look down the edge of the drop. Tangled tapestries of roots dangle from the land’s overhang, hanging lazily from their throne of earth. Beside them, six large boulders lined their own section of the drop, stacked atop one another’s uneven surface in two rows of three. A runoff drain sits adjacent to them, dripping softly from the darkness of its circular hole. The sullage drains down a worn stone ramp, its path stained green with a thin layer of algae.

Beyond the drop, a creek trickles gently over countless rocks. Memories and sunlight alike dance upon its surface as it flows down its channel, eventually twisting out of sight. The creek bed is speckled with various colored stones - red, white, gray, brown, even an exotic turquoise. The scent of wet rocks wafts up to me. It is a comforting scent, familiar to me like I have come home to the smell of my mother’s freshly baked cookies.

Any large rocks caught below the water’s surface are swathed with long, flowing locks of dark algae, transforming the creek into a furred serpent slithering through the landscape. When faced with something so fantastical, it’s hard not to let it sweep you into awe.

I watch the water dance between the rocks in a dazzling descent down the creek. I wonder how it would feel to lay amongst the algae, bathing in the cool water as it sweeps me away.

But the creek serpent’s glory has already swept me away, hasn’t it?

Shanghai Tower

Meant to be a description of this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLDYtH1RH-U

The sky grows dark as evening falls over the city of Shanghai.

By day, Shanghai is a bustling city, the narrow streets brimming with citizens going about their daily business. Some walk by foot along the stone walkways and concrete sidewalks, while others are crammed into vehicles of all shapes and sizes. Cars, taxis, buses, trucks, mopeds, even streetcars, lined all the roads twisting between the endless skyscrapers. The dirty smell of exhaust mingled with the aromas of fresh street food, not unlike the mingling of revving vehicles and countless voices of pedestrians.

But not now. By night, Shanghai grew quiet. The buzzing of city business eased as the sun crept down into the horizon. Citizens and vehicles alike trickled away into the night, retreating to their homes nestled in hotels or apartments. A hushed air of dormancy settled itself over the city. People wandered their way inside, streetcars and buses retired to their idling zones, and the smooth concrete streets emptied. Today’s business was over - it was time to rest, as the hustle and bustle would resume once the sun’s arrival announced the next day.

For everyone else, at least.

You and your comrade trek your way through the emptied streets. A sense of purpose echoed with each step you took, deeper and deeper into the night. You are both dressed in dark attire, adorned with slim black hoods and dark pants. Unlike you, your comrade is wearing black gloves. The cool night air chilled the skin of your hands just enough to remind you they are bare. Both of you are wearing backpacks, well fitted and secure.

You playfully ask your comrade how they’re feeling, your voice slightly muffled by the black mask blanketing half your face. They give an excited chuckle, their words of anticipation similarly softened from their own matching veil. Your eyes briefly meet theirs, unshrouded by any fabric. Beyond the sharp reflection of the city lights, there is a thrilled spark to your comrade’s gaze that your eyes couldn’t help but mirror. You were excited - both of you, and for good reason, too; for tonight was the night you would scale Shanghai Tower.

You and your comrade paced your way down the streetlight-illuminated road. Still under construction, Shanghai Tower was not yet open to the public. At this hour, though, the build site had been long left vacant, hidden away behind concrete walls that barred away the outside world. Nothing a professional climber couldn’t handle, of course. A small opening between the cracked concrete wall and the overhang of the building was just wide enough for your bodies to slip through. Carefully, you slide your backpack down your shoulders and hand it to your comrade - without it, you’d fit through the opening quite nicely. Both of you cast wary glances up and down the street, cautious to avoid any sort of attention. What you were about to do wasn’t the most legal, of course, but it’s not like you were going to damage anything.

You hop the wall; it wasn’t difficult to do so, it only required a small jump and some shuffling to squeeze yourself through. Chest down atop the hard peak of the wall, sandwiched between the smooth concrete and the metal overhand of the building, you wait for your comrade to pass you both the backpacks. Sliding them individually through the opening was the only viable option of fitting them through, thanks to how narrow the passageway happened to be. Once the bags were through, you slid your way down the other side of the wall, quickly finding your footing and standing upright. Hooking a finger around the strap of your backpack, you hoist it up and slip it back on. Meanwhile, your comrade takes their turn to climb the wall, making their own jump-and-squeeze to join you on the other side.

You and your comrade curiously scan around the area previously concealed by the concrete wall. You have never even glimpsed into this place before, and your senses are greeted with the makings of brand new scenery. A rugged parking lot stretched out before you, dotted with cement poles like smooth trees across a stony meadow. Fluorescent lights shone out in the darkness like stars caught inside the walls, woven between the industrial pipes.

You and your comrade exchange an excited glance as they slip into their own backpack. Together you scamper across the industrial complex, racing over the rocky ground and past the cracked cement walls. You dart between the fluorescent lights, keeping to the shadows cast by the building structures where your outfits blended in better. You pass several large buildings and heavy machinery, twisted with industrial pipes and ventilation. You scurried your way through the construction site like two-legged squirrels of the night, and boy, were you both ready to climb like one!

Eventually, you find your way to the base of the Shanghai Tower. A concrete staircase offered a pathway higher into the structure, which you both eagerly ascended. Now that you were out of sight with less risk of being caught, you could take a much more leisurely pace than before. Together, you clamber up the concrete spiral staircase, surrounded by the hard concrete walls and spindly scaffolding poles. Your footsteps echo up the stairway chamber; a faint reminder of just how tall the structure you found yourselves in. Up, up, up you climb, until the chill of the clouds begins to seep its way through the building’s flimsy windows. The wetness of the air clings to your body like paint clings to a wall. Thank goodness you and your comrade came prepared for the icy altitude air - without your thick black clothing, you’d have been chilled right to the bone.

Eventually, a wave of fresh air thrust its way to your senses. You exit the staircase to a large, open expanse. A balcony, stretching out much wider than the staircase you had just been climbing. You and your comrade decide this is where you would sleep for the night - the rest of the climb required as much light as possible. Clambering through scaffolding meant you needed to see where you were putting your hands! You slide your backpacks off, opening them up and preparing your sleeping bags. It didn’t take long to set up camp - the balcony, although open and exposed to the crisp night air, sat above the clouds that would have drenched the air with a chill.

Together, you behold the city below, perching yourselves atop the unprotected balcony edge. Shanghai sat before you, engulfed with a blanket of clouds that swirled between the skyscrapers. Skyscrapers, sitting below you for once, was quite a sight to behold. Flashing lights from the buildings pierced through the misty sky like periodic, colorful lightning. You and your comrade sit atop the balcony’s edge, dangling your feet over the precarious drop. Adrenaline pulsed through your body at the hundreds of meters of thin air between you and the ground you had walked on just a couple hours ago. Your comrade felt it too, staring out at the cityscape below with a spark of excitement in their eye.

You think to yourself that a timelapse of a view like this would make great footage. You mention it to your comrade, who eagerly agrees with you. You set up your camera at the edge of the balcony, overlooking the cityscape. And with that, you both decide to get some rest. You have plenty to look forward to the next day.

It felt like hardly any time passed as you and your comrade slept through the night, cradled by the cold of the altitude’s air. Before you know it, you’re on the move again, clambering further up the familiar construction-riddled stairway. It looked just as it had before, cement walls and dull windows, except there was far more scaffolding. The framework of metal poles stretched this way and that like an angular skeleton.

Eventually, the stairway ended, offering no path further up the building. But you hadn’t made it to the top yet, you knew that. You and your comrade spot a sliver in one of the dull windows, and you quickly make your way towards it. Slipping through the opening, you precariously find yourselves at the edge of more scaffolding - though, this time, there was no cement casing to catch you between the bars. It was just you and your comrade atop a webbing of metal poles, dangling over hundreds of meters of thin air. The bars were painted bright red, frigid against your hands as you grab hold to climb higher. It reminded you of monkey bars on a children’s playground structure.

Higher and higher you climb. There’s nothing to ground yourself with except for thin grating, cold poles and the occasional flimsy ladder. You are climbing on a crane attached to the Shanghai Tower’s roof; people are not supposed to be where you and your comrade are, and you are acutely aware of the fact there are no safety precautions to protect you should you fall. That idea excited you. The city laid far beneath your feet, the tallest skyscrapers the size of a tiny bush. Blood and adrenaline pounded in your ears as you continued moving, one step after another as you inched your way higher and higher along the scaffolding. The wind howled against your body, upsetting your balance just enough to yank that teetering feeling from the depths of your gut.

Every now and then, you perch yourself against a ladder, glancing back at your comrade. They were right behind you, going about the climb on their own route. Each time they noticed you looking, they scrambled to find a spot to perch, taking a moment to let you know they were doing alright. You smiled. Of course, they couldn’t see it with the mask over your face, but you knew they could tell anyhow.

You reach the very top of the structure. That climb felt like an eternity passing in the blink of an eye. Your hands are chilled to the bone, and stinging with exertion and the promise of calluses to come. The wind roared around you like a relentless, thundering river. You are breathing heavily with the effort it took to climb so far, taking in the extreme altitude air like a trophy for your lungs themselves. Your comrade arrives behind you, similarly exhausted, their eyes glimmering with triumph.

You’ve done it. Together, you have climbed the tower of Shanghai.

And now, you must make your way back down again.

A Famous Quotation

You cannot run away from a weakness, you must fight it out or parish; and if that be so, why not now, and where you stand.

- Robert Louis Stevenson

Personally, I interpret this quotation as a call to action to anyone reading it. Everyone has weakness - it is a part of what makes us human. I don't think it is very appropriate to say we are ‘flawed individuals.’ To me, it is more appropriate to label human beings as ‘individuals with flaws.’ While they are part of who we are, it is not something that defines our identities! We are not our flaws, but our flaws belong to us.

Anyways, this quote, to me, is a call to action. Every reasonable human being recognizes they have flaws; some people struggle more with that prospect than others. It is also true that many people handle that prospect differently, and there are some measures that are worth more merit than others. Some respond to the idea they have weakness with ignorance, ignoring the problem entirely and distracting themselves from it. Others may try to run from it. Maybe someone lashes out at others with similar weaknesses in some sort of attempt to project themselves. But to me, this quote advises an individual to put their head down and challenge their weakness face to face.

By challenging your own weaknesses, you are allowing yourself an opportunity to learn, grow and improve as a person. As someone who has worked hard on improving myself in the past, whatever that challenge may be, it will feel like a fight. You will struggle, there might be some setbacks, and it will be a very difficult experience. You will often feel like you have regressed back to stage one every time you make an attempt, but this is not necessarily the case. I saw a very insightful post on Tumblr the other day that illustrates this point:

IMAGE

Taken from: https://www.tumblr.com/torstherapy/808972204588040192?source=share

While this post addresses trauma more than weakness, I think it is still applicable. It is worth the struggle to put the work in, because you will emerge out the other side a better and stronger person than you were before.

This is only addressing the first half of the quote, of course. “Fight it out,” specifically. The quote goes on to mention “or parish,” which denotes the consequences of refusing to address a weakness. If you allow a weakness to fester, you will never be capable of moving on or growing as a person. If you refuse to grow as a person, you will find yourself stuck in the same niche of your life until the end of time, depriving yourself of having a human experience and allowing yourself to waste away until, well, you perish.

Think of yourself like a rain barrel. Life itself, all the experiences, feelings, opportunities and memories are falling from the sky in the form of rain. It falls into the rain barrel, filling it ever so slightly as time passes. Let’s say that filling the rain barrel means you have fulfilled yourself as a human being - you’re full of the brim with rain, life itself! The more you’re filled, the more you have grown and progressed through life.

But, as the rain falls and fills the rain barrel up so slowly, you discover a leak in your side. The leak is equivalent to a weakness or flaw that is detrimental to you. The rain keeps falling and falling, but the leak is draining the water away and the barrel isn’t getting any fuller. The water level stays the same, and you’re getting no closer to fulfilling your life. This quote is a call to action against this very thing. Challenge yourself, patch that weakness, so the rain barrel isn’t leaking anymore. Once you’ve fought and struggled against the leaking current of drainwater, it will be over, and the rain barrel can continue to fill up. You’ve finally allowed yourself to grow and move on, and now you’re back on your way to fulfilling your life!

If you had instead chosen to ignore the leak, you would have never gotten anywhere with your life. The rain barrel would never fill, and you will never fulfill yourself. At the end of your life, you’ll only have a quarter of the rain barrel filled, thanks to that leak. This quote warns against this exactly - take initiative, take action! Do something about that leak, and it’ll be worth it in the end.

The last section of the quote states “and if that be so, why not now, and where you stand.” This, to me, is incentivising the audience to take action as soon as possible. Why wait? What’s the point in letting yourself wallow and suffer, draining that water through that leak? Time is precious, so why waste it losing water from your barrel? Fix it now! The sooner you start, the sooner it will be over. Most people’s answer to “why not now?” fall along the lines of “it’s too hard,” “I’m too scared,” or “this will take forever.” My responses to each question, respectively, are “There’s always a solution or way to do it as long as you never give up,” “Do it scared and soon you won’t be scared anymore,” and “The time will pass anyways.” There’s not really any reason not to at least try.

This quote reflects my philosophy of life, which is why I chose it. I agree with it wholly, and do my best to uphold the values it mentioned. I’m a very ambitious person because of this, because I am confident in my ability to overcome challenges and face my weaknesses head-on, even if I’m making very little progress at a time. A little progress is better than no progress, after all. I wish more people understood the merit in challenging themself and persevering through it - thus far, I have found it works wonders, and the outcomes are always worth the effort. I think more people should consider this quote and try taking it to heart.

Bleeding in the Rain

IMAGE

Last night, I had a dream where I was bleeding out in the rain.

I laid in a heap on the side of a smooth brick road. The round bricks were gleaming in the overcast light, slick with rainwater. Runoff trickled along the grout between them, turning every lumped surface into an island amongst geometric rivers. I stained the rivers red as they flowed past my body.

Rivers of my own cascaded down my limp frame, seeping steadily from the countless gashes that frayed my skin. Raindrops pattered softly against me; the water marbled with my blood, washing a diluted crimson out of my body.

My wrists and throat sat agape, yawning wetly into the stormy air. My forehead was split down the middle; it dripped blood into my eyes, but I don’t think I ever bothered to close them. I think my stomach was undone. My torso felt hollow and strewn, like it had spilled itself clumsily. I couldn’t turn my head to see for sure.

At first, my body pounded horribly with agony. Every beat of my heart only pushed more blood out of my wounds. With every pulse, each thrum, every wound throbbed in unison as my body spilled its insides out.

But as my blood drained away from me, staining the rivers redder and redder, a chill crept its way under my skin. It chased away the pain, flattening the pounding agony like the ocean flattens mountains.

It is cold without blood.

And I was only getting colder.

But with it, the pain was only getting weaker.

Suddenly, all at once, it all went away. I was cold. So cold. But I finally wasn’t hurting anymore. Every ache, every pain, from even before my body came undone, had finally let me go. If I didn’t feel frozen, I would’ve heaved a sigh of relief.

I couldn’t breathe. But I found I didn't need to.

I didn’t shake. I didn't cry. The cold was so thick that it weighed me down, pressing against my wet flesh like a heavy blanket. I think it almost soothed me.

I kept waiting for death to take me. I thought, for sure, that every passing moment would be my last.

But the end never came.

I never closed my eyes, never left my bloodied body. So I just laid there in peace as the rain poured down around me.

It was like I was sleeping without my eyes closed.

And I felt strangely safe.