I'm so tired right now but this rhetorical analysis isn't that bad

“Kiss Me” By Sixpence None the Richer 

Kiss me out of the bearded barley,

Lightly, beside the green, green grass

Swing, swing, swing the spinning step

You'll wear those shoes and I will wear that dress

Oh, Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out of the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silvermoon's sparkling,

So kiss me

Kiss me down by the broken tree house

Swing me, upon its hanging tire

Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat

We'll take the trail marked on your father's map

Oh, Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out of the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silvermoon's sparkling,

So kiss me

Oh, Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out of the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silvermoon's sparkling,

So kiss me

So kiss me...

So kiss me

        Kiss Me written by Sixpence None the Richer is a romantic song that utilizes smooth diction, vivid imagery, and light tone to exclaim the singer’s lover to her presumed lover.
        There are many different ways to write out song lyrics to create a piece a music. However, lyrics are not the same as music. If anything lyrics are like poetry. The words of the song are able to come together fluidly and smooth to create this sense of comfort and aloofness. There are no hard breaks or unexpected turns in the lyrics. Nothing too exciting or new is used in order to make the audience feel comfortable and welcomed. The structure is quite uniform throughout the entire piece. Unlike many other songs, the chorus is repeated three times and there are only two unique verses in the entire song. This specific choice to only allow certain flow and structure adds to the calming nature of the song. In the chorus, the singer asks her presumed lover to “kiss [her] beneath the milky twilight”, the word milky in this sentence is an extremely smooth word and since it's in the chorus, the part of the song repeated the most often, the audience becomes the most comfortable with this line as it is also the first line in the chorus. The writer’s choice of diction effectively gives the song a calming and welcoming nature.
        Imagery in songwriting is the most prominently used and most important component of figurative language. Without descriptions of feelings or events songs will feel empty and emotionless. The songwriter here uses the description of a night sky and atmosphere. The fireflies are out and the "moonlit floor" of twilight. This specific time of night is considered the most romantic, especially when sitting in the moonlight. As this is a love song the writer needs to be able to create a very romantic atmosphere for the audience to latch on to and feel emotion. Which brings us to the writer's appeal to pathos.  A good love song needs to be able to get the audience emotionally invested in what the singer is saying. If the song doesn't tug at your heart strings then the song isn't accomplishing what it set out to do. "Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight." is what I would consider the most romantic line in this song. It uses very smooth and calm diction to exclaim the writer's love for her lover. Without creating the proper atmosphere the appeal to pathos would not work the way the writer intended for it to.
        The tone of the song is meant to be warm and romantic. A tone is the combination of all the author's use of rhetorical devices and appeals. The writer is able to achieve this through their diction and use of imagery. Kiss Me is aimed at the writer's lover and trying to convince them of their love and desire. If the author had come across angry then the appeal to pathos would have been lost. The tone of a good love song is inviting and emotional. Without proper diction the author would have failed in this case. The lyrics are quite simplistic in certain cases, when the singer tells her lover to "kiss [her]" the writer is being blunt and straightforward, but that is not what the song is necessarily about. The writer is telling the audience the details of how she wants it to happen, not just what she wants.
        This song is a beautiful expression of the writer's love and devotion to her lover and how she wants him to make her feel. None of this would have been possible without the proper diction, imagery, and tone the author tried to achieve and succeeded.

What are you doing? I'm writing an open letter to incoming freshmen.

Dear freshman,

Welcome to the next four years of your life.

You are now entering the mystical realm of high school. Now you’ve seen the movies, you’ve read the books, you’ve heard the stories but you’ve never experienced anything quite like this before. Congrats on graduating middle school by the way. If you’re expecting high school to be similar. Well, you’re wrong. High school isn’t just middle school with harder classes. This stuff will prepare you for your future. Life starts getting right about now. Trust me, I’ve been there. And don’t think for one second that you can halfass your whole time here. It’s time to buckle down and work hard because what you do here can affect the rest of your life.

First things first. Do your homework when it’s assigned, or as soon as possible. Work piles up so much faster than you could ever expect. Do it before it gets out of hand. Trust me I’ve been there. Weeks of overdue homework piling up on my desk and computer. It causes more stress than you could possibly imagine. No matter how much fun you’re having while not doing work, waiting until the last minute is so much worse. Put some time aside at home to do homework, whether it be immediately when you get home or when you’re relaxed on your couch or in bed at night. Long story short: don’t procrastinate, you’ll only regret it.

Now that’s not to say you can’t have fun while during your time here. Don’t be the person who just goes home after school never to be seen until the next day. Have a life. Coming from someone who’s had an extremely active social life and an almost non-existent one heed my advice: find a balance. School should be taken seriously, whether you want to learn it or not the lesson is probably useful. Pay attention. However don’t take it so seriously that you lock yourself away in your room just to do work. You don’t want to find yourself constantly sitting home at night just watching Netflix and eating pizza all alone, but you also don’t want to never have time to do anything for yourself such as homework or some peace and quiet. You should learn quickly that finding a balance between fun and work is key.

Don’t get too stressed out. It’s not worth the effort. Many times throughout my high school career I’ve wanted to cut off all my hair and run away to a different state. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Sure, you should take your work seriously but don’t stress yourself out. I’ve seen what it does to people and it's not pretty. If you ever feel overburdened just stop what you’re doing and take a breath. (I know that’s pretty cliche but I’m not done yet) If you’re in a situation where you just have too much work and you don’t know how to handle simply make a list. Write it on your hand, type it on your phone, put it wherever. Make a list of everything that needs to get done right now. Writing everything down clearly so you can see it in front of you will allow you to focus and realign yourself.

Above all do what you love. Find your passion and run with it. High school is the time to make big decisions and everyone knows it's a stressful. Don’t worry everyone has been there and everyone has gotten through it. Take one step at a time and work through it. And just a little advice: don’t start any drama. No matter how much you like watching it on TV, real life drama is no game. But remember have fun and look forward to the end.

Sincerely,
The guy you probably wouldn’t listen to if I was saying this in person

Next year I'm a senior and writing this gave me anxiety

First Day:

         As the school bell rang a wave of students made their way to their first period class. The halls were bustling with noise and loud chatter. Each student filling in the others with what they did over the summer. Mouths ran fast with story after story rushing past everyone’s ears. All the students looked happy even though this was the start of a long journey to the end of the school year. On the first people tend not to really worry about the future, it's the only day of the year that people live in the present and just have fun.
         The school as a whole was exactly the same as it was last year. We come to expect the school to change in one way shape or form from year to year but for some reason nothing was different. The same gloomy paint job, the same narrow hallways. Even the teachers were all the same for once. As students made their way to their classes, everyone began to split up to find their first period. Large groups have kids shooting off of them like missiles as they ran to class. With schedules in hand, the freshmen looked as if they were on a tour at Disney world. Not on their way to class. Their eyes darted across the campus searching for old friends and sometimes fresh starts.
         The second bell rang and now the halls were all but empty. A few stragglers were still searching for their classes but one by one disappeared behind the heavy metal doors of the classrooms. No one was saying but everyone was thinking it: “I can't wait for the rest of the year.”

Last Day:

         People were sitting in their desks tapping the pencils on the metal frames. Their eyes were fixated on the clock waiting for that magical number 3:15 to appear. Legs bouncing up and down to try and contain the excitement everyone was feeling. The teacher had put on a movie earlier in the period, they weren’t going to even attempt to grab the kids attentions on the last day of school. It had been a rough year with its ups and downs but everyone was now looking forward to either college or summer vacation. Everyone was looking towards the future and what it had to hold.
         It was 3:10 and people were walking around the halls. Yelling and screaming and yet quiet. That’s when people realized nobody was talking. Everything was silent save the movie and the ticks of the clock. Students were just too preoccupied with their futures to even worry about starting conversations with people they only sort of liked. At the end of every year people get sick of each other. Too much interaction throughout the year caused too much drama and too much hatred (Don’t worry, everyone with forget everything bad that happened next year).
         3:14. It was almost time. People grabbed their bags and leaned forward in their seats. Everyone could taste the freedom right in front of them. The teacher began packing everything up and wishing their students a happy summer break. Again no one was listening. Although, one person did say “you too!”. The bell sound radiated throughout the halls and everyone raced out the doors. Summer was finally here.

I Don't Understand the Title of this Blog Prompt

        I stood there gazing at the wall of the memorial garden. Its concrete bricks layered on one another, each painted a different design in order to create a larger picture. The sun’s powerful rays pierced the day sky, pushing past each cloud to make its way to the nape of my neck. It was one of the hottest days all year. I welcomed the soothing winds to cool my head and arms off, as every other part of my body was covered in clothing. Birds chirped and sang in the background creating a wonderful symphony for my enjoyment. I looked down to my feet noticing the stone slabs were chipped and rotting. They were covered in dirt and mold (which honestly could be gotten rid of with a quick power wash), showing their age.
        The calm and quiet area was only disturbed once due to a single car passing by the connecting road. The sun was strong but when in the heart of the garden, the large tree in the center of the path cast its shadow onto the Earth. Bugs zipped around me looked for a feast. Mosquitoes, in particular, were a great nuisance. I swatted several away before we began to move to our final destination. My group walked slowly, our energy was draining fast due to the scorching sun's rays. Our walk came to an end as we saw Scaliwag in the distance. Cars raced past us, most likely unaware this was even a school. The gushing wind of the active road was a godsend on my sweltering body.
        I came to the end of the sidewalk to a large bush concealing the electrical system for the school I presume. Dozens of bees covered the grassy field in front of me, each playing its part in nature. Buzzing past each other the bees made their way down the field, periodically landing on flowers to pollinate them. I started to think about the Hollywood masterpiece, The Bee Movie (no joke). But when you really think about it Bees really shouldn’t be able to fly. Their wings are too tiny to get their fat little bodies off the ground. However, Bees really don’t care what humans think is impossible. But Bees are more similar to humans then you may think. They have to commute from their hive to work and put in a daily effort just like everyone else. Their lives revolve around servicing a single entity, the Queen Bee, just like our lives revolve around servicing a single entity, the Government.
        The flowers blew in the breeze aided by the zooming cars. My bushy leg hair soaked up the sweat that dripped down my legs, small sweat stains dappled my poorly-chosen sweatpants I adorned today. Small wet spots were speckled all across the thicc, grey prisons. Birds flew over my head chirping with their sweet symphony of happiness and joy. While I’m stuck in this prison these birds are enjoying the most amount of freedom possible: flight. I walked back inside to the immediate welcome breeze of the AC.

It's Hot as Ballz Outside

        Sitting down I begin to look at my surroundings. A few birds chirping, some trees plotted here and there, tons of sand and bushes. The wind on the left side of my face is welcomed as it is probably one of the hottest days we've had in a while. As I sit there boiling up a sweat, I look down to my feet. Ants. I quickly dart my feet away from them in fear of them being bitten. As I am color blind, every ant I see has the potential to be a red ant. I continue to look at the pile of ants scurrying around like mindless drones. One climbing over the other scampering around the hill trying to get out. Some ants caught my attention over a little to the side. They didn't look like the ants that were on the hill I was previously observing. Their color was a little darker and they look slightly bigger. These new ants weren't wandering around without a care in the world. They were on a mission. Walking side-by-side toward the pavement, I got up to make way. The ants neither were startled nor did it seem like they cared at all about my movements. They simply went along with their goal and continued to strut across the road. What a life.

Get Your Complaints Out of My Eyesockets

To the MIA School Board and Administration,

        No matter where you go you will find issues with every school. There is no “perfect” place. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t look at the problems we have and try to fix them. While there are several specific issues I wish to address, I will only be covering the three biggest that I believe have the most adverse effect on Marco Island Academy.
        When it comes to mentoring I understand the point of it. I believe it was originally created in order to prevent an overflow of students in the lunch pavilion due to increased student population and school popularity. However, now it has become something that traps students to one room in the school, preventing them from taking a proper break in the day. Many students also simply say that there is not enough time during the lunch segment to actually eat their lunch. While I do not experience the same problem, I do see why they may have this issue. I believe that there should be on large open lunch period where students are allowed to do as they please during that time. They could either eat lunch, go to a club, or receive extra help from a teacher of their choosing. This allows everyone the freedom to choose and make their own decisions, which is a valuable skill in the workforce and adult world. It may also prepare us for college as there students are offered almost unlimited freedom in designing the academic timetable of their education. If MIA claims to prepare students for college and beyond then it needs to start  preparing us with freedom of choice and giving us the respect that we deserve to make our own decisions.
        Personal freedoms is a common complaint with MIA. The “caging of the cell phones” is the most widespread complaint with this institution. This is the most blatant disregard of student’s freedoms. I do not believe that the misdeeds of a few should result in punishment of the many. We should focus more on attempting to reprimand students whom abuse the policy of personal device usage, rather than simply taking the easy way out and simply banning them in the classroom. I repeat, how can this school claim to prepare its students for the outside world when the students are treated like they can not be trusted. A new policy should be put in place where students are trusted instead of immediately punished even if they did nothing wrong. We should allow students to keep their phone on their person and only use it with the permission of the teacher. If the student is caught using the phone improperly then they should be punished with however the teacher deems necessary. Allowing the use of cellphones and giving students the responsibility of trust and honesty is the best way to prepare students for the “real world”.
        My final recommendation is one that I thought about excluding from this letter but decided to include due to its importance. The students of MIA are some of the most kind and caring I have met in my entire life. However, there are a select few students that should simply not be attending this school. At Marco Island Academy there is a huge drug and alcohol problem within a large portion of the student body. These problems are all but ignored and really hinder the public view of the school. Many students that do not attend MIA know this and refer to MIA as a rampant drug school. The administration of this school needs to deal with obvious student offenders in order to better show the public we are to be respected.

Descriptive Writing Redo

        After a long day at school and the long walk from my bus stop, I finally made it home. 7 Terrace Avenue, Nanuet, New York. The first thing that caught my eyes was the enormous Oak Tree that nearly touched the sky and draped the entire yard in shadow. The lush green grass cloaked in darkness and would only be revealed during a particular time of day. During the Spring the yard would be sprinkled with dandelions and tulips. The house itself was coated in blizzard white paint, only to be contrasting by the sea of dark brown roof tiles. The same color of shutters lined all the windows on each side. I made my way up the wide tar driveway that was so dark it could almost be confused for the night sky clear of stars. The imperfections showed the years of wear and tear from blankets of snow to deadly black ice. From here I made my way up elongated stairs that curved up the lawn from the driveway to the front down. It lined a large elevated semicircle of bushes that ranged in sizes from 5ft tall thick bushes to minuscule weed like structures. Reaching the front door I made my way up a final set of stairs guided by a deep black railing with old-fashioned fixtures.
        I reached for the screen door handle that would allow me access to the main door into the house. As I entered the narrow hallway encompassed my entire body, making me feel like the walls were going to close in on me. There was a closet to my right that I opened and put my jacket into. The light blue walls and tile flooring played nicely off each other and offered a nice contrast to the outside world I just exited. I walked forward through the hallway and entered a large opening in the wall into the living room. It was the largest room on the first floor with a carpeted flooring and semi-tall ceilings. My grandmother was sitting on a wide 3-person couch that laid just in front a large window setting that lit up the room no light bulb ever could. My grandmother reading a book on that couch is the fondest memory I have of her and it's what I most remember her by. The coach was bookended by two tables that had medium sized table lamps sitting upon them. In the center of the room was a large coffee table with two cushioned chairs on both ends. There was a large mahogany colored cabinet unit that housed our many nik-naks and family heirlooms.
        From the living room I entered the formal dining room. A long oak table took up almost all the space in the room. With only two dressers filling in the rest. The tiles from the hallway were resumed in this room but now the wall color had changed to a more neutral blue-green mixture. This room was used almost exclusively for family gatherings, homework, and large puzzles. A similar window setting to the one from the living room was also present on the far end wall from the back of the dining table. The window sill housed several plants and pictures of the family.  I walked in the kitchen which is connected to the dining room through a narrow door-shaped opening on the side wall. Every time I entered the kitchen I thought that I might have entered another by mistake, but this was in fact my kitchen. The striking lime green walls always startled house guests and made the room seem disconnected from the rest of the house. It was the most modern room by far, with a glass table, stainless steel appliances, and modern ceiling fixtures. The only thing that seemed a little older than the rest of the room was the gas stove. I never cooked much in my old house so it didn’t bother me but my grandfather always said it was a pain in the ass to clean.
        Moving back into the hallway, I had now made a full circle. I made my way up the staircase the was right next to the closet adjacent to the front door. The second floor contained three bedrooms: one for my grandparents, one for my mother, and of course one for me. I’m pretty sure my room was meant to be an office when the house was built but I was small then so it didn’t matter that much. The entire upstairs was carpeted except my mother’s room which hardwood flooring. All four of us had to share one bathroom on the same floor, which would leave us in a bit of a pickle when more than one of us had to use it at the same time. As I set my bag down in my room I laid down on my twin bed ready to take a nice rest after a long day.