Hello there. Disclaimer:  this blog post has nothing to do with my college essay. I just think this out of blue. 

 

After reading the following two paragraphs, I am 100% sure that you’ll ask this question: Who is she? And my job is to give just enough clues so that 99.9% of you will guess her identity incorrectly. One thing before we move on: she was my green light (not in Gatsby-Buchanan soap drama sense), the light that is no longer visible.

via GIPHY

Back in elementary school, I would finish off all my homework, attend to all of my duties, and then… take a sneak peak at her. Why wouldn’t I? I made my first eye contact with her dreamy eyes, first physical step toward her fading back, and first legible phrase about her silver hair. Today was no different; she was there, still the same figure, still equally perfect. Actually, that’s an understatement. 

 

As a kid, I always wondered why God forgot to close a window for her: her intellectual acuteness easily paralleled to that of Albert Einstein’s; her caring sentiments bore a close resemblance to that of Mother Teresa’s; and her mastery of the rhetorical triangle transcended all politicians. With all these qualities, she could easily become the most popular and powerful person in the world when she graduates from an Ivy League of her choice, yet she preferred sitting next to me and felt somewhat resigned by my incompetence. 

 

That’s all. If you feel so compelled, please take a guess on her identity, and if you get it right, I’ll buy you two bags of chips (I’m not kidding, as long as you give me your mailing address).

 

She is not my sister (second closest thing to perfection in my life though), mother, any biological relative, romantic partner (sadly), nor classmate. In fact, I don’t even know her, because…

 

 

 

 

 

She doesn’t exist! I am sorry…

Whether you are hurt by this top 10 betrayal or slightly grin at the stupidity of me writing 300 words about nothing, I hereby invite you to reread those 300 words (I know). Then, think about how many times in your life, as a student, have you desired to become as perfect as her. How many times have you been jealous of others’ merits and “wondered why God forgot to close a window for him/her”?  How many times have you dreamed about being perfect then felt “somewhat resigned by your incompetence”?

 

Many times, I assume. Yet, in the end, that ideal version of yourself would always wane; no matter how fast you think you were running toward it, it all felt like infant steps behind her back as she faded in front of your eyes. Perfection is “the orgastic green light that year by year recedes before us.” (Fitzgerald 180) She’s the ghost, the disillusion that year by year haunted me.

 

I was once a pursuer of perfection, mindlessly chasing after perfect scores in every single field. I once viewed perfection as the lone confirmation of self-worth, secretly cursing at any careless mistakes. I must admit it was a tiring yet unrewarding experience. Even with that, I remained hopelessly far from what I envisioned myself to be. My advice? Don’t try to be perfect, it’s a dream not worth chasing. 

 ==> FAKE NEWS

Ed Sheeran. “Ed Sheeran – Perfect (Official Music Video).” Youtube. Web. Sep. 13, 2018.

 

Mr. Bishop often tells me that “you can’t control everything in your college applications.” Once in a while, substitute college applications with life, and boy!, life becomes so much easier yet equally fulfilling.

 

One question remains though. If you could, without perceptible effort, be perfect, would you? See you next time.

Warning: this post contains minor spoilers. If you have not read The Great Gatsby or watched its movie, please click away before your life is forever ruined. You have been warned. 

Hello there.

Strangely, my mom loves The Great Gatsby; she read the Chinese version, the easier English version, and now she wants me to lend her the original version (Carraway’s unnecessarily prolix writing scared her off after one page, however). But why is she so interested? Daisy’s vanity? Gatsby’s green light? Message for capitalism? The decline of the American Dream? Probably, but not totally. Today, we take a look at the Fitzgerald’s top life advice to those who are forced to pick up his book at seventeen.

 

#3 The more you hang on to a relationship, the more dead you are. 

She and her husband were both dead, literally. 

via GIPHY

I assume that you are likely a novice in romantic relationships (at least I am) even though time has changed. If so, The Great Gatsby might be a pleasurable read for you.

Through his characterization of that poor George Wilson, Fitzgerald clearly discourages the continuation of marriage if it is unworthy. Even when his wife, Myrtle Wilson, was always doing some gold mining with Tom, George remained pathetically fidel, or as Carraway observed, “He was his wife’s man and not his own” (Fitzgerald 136). Moral of this book: don’t ever be that tryhard in maintaining your relationship with your partner.  Be Elsa in Frozen if necessary. Speaking of which…

 

#2 “The past is in the past. Let it go!!!” 

Gabs Silva “I am never going back The past is in the past Let it go.” Youtube. Web. 20 Aug. 2014.

 

Even as a seventeen-year old who still has a long way (or not) to go, I cannot resist that once-in-a-while nostalgia when I collected the final star in Super Mario Galaxy Two or the days when I was good at Chinese (like really, #1-in-the-school, good). Tempting as the past is, Fitzgerald consistently cautions against it throughout the book. Just imagine the endless possibilities that would’ve emerged between Gatsby and Daisy Buchanan if the former had not forced the latter to say “I never loved him [Tom Buchanan]” (Fitzgerald 132). Gatsby’s preoccupation with the past proved to be his hamartia, one in which he forfeited his life for. In your final year before adulthood, you better look forward, run faster, stretch farther… And one fine morning —

 

#1 Oh! Stop running or stretching if your dream is flawed. 

Does a desire to go To The Lighthouse count as a dream? 

Remember back in the beginning when Carraway says, “It is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and short-winded elations of men.” (Fitzgerald 2)? This quote, quite soberly, foreshadows Gatsby’s imminent downfall since his dream – whether it be Daisy Buchanan or money – is full of “foul dust”; in Fitzgerald’s view, temporary ascent to material wealth is a mundane objective that eventually suffices an equally magnificent anticlimax.

Whether you agree with his pessimistic view of capitalism or not (I still don’t, in case somebody wonders if I’ve changed), it is universally true you should never sweat over a pointless goal, like studying calculus five hours straight for a quiz or supporting the San Diego Padres. Otherwise, you will beat against the current and be borne back ceaselessly into the past…

Before we part ways, I must say the last page of The Great Gatsby is the most beautiful page I’ve ever read in my life. It prompts an intriguing question though: what constitutes a good dream? Let me know in the comments. See you next time!