Stanford's Project Write

Student work from Project WRITE

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False Lovers by Alondra Sanchez

“I love you” they claim. “I.” Hmm. Who is “I”? Do you know who “I” really is?! How can this "I" claim their love for me? How can I pour my trust into your cupped hands? How could I ever possibly quench your thirst for this thing called love if who we claim to be is not at all really us? People change. We are nothing but billboards. We constantly change. In January we advertise the new Android. “Get your Android today! It is all you really need” and then Febuary comes by and we advertise the new iPhone. “The iPhone 4c. Get what you deserve”.

Over and over and over again we refresh. You may claim that you love me now but that is only the façade you so innocently model on this runway of life today, and then tomorrow you'll so gallantly flaunt another. Hatred? Jealousy maybe? Who knows.

   We are similar. We are not true lovers. Take it from me. You. Whoever you are. You see, like you, I am human as well. I am human!! Skin, bones, blood, nerves, feelings. All human. I may feel something but I don't hold it. It's not concrete it is abstract and volatile. It is volatile. You can't love correctly and I -- I can't be loved. You pour this "love" into a bottomless pit that has been given birth to right here, right in my heart. With time it expands and manifests itself. Nibbles away at my heart.

  My father left me. He claimed to love me. He didn't. My friend. She swore her loyalty but she secretly held a knife at my throat. It's disappointing how people can only pretend to love.

You hug me. Kiss me. You mark me up with your sincere signature of love as if I were a contract but guess what. This contract has no more room for your Ink. Marked with the lies of so many others this contract has repeatedly been broken and it will let no one break it anymore.

   I mean take a look at yourself. Forget the mirror and I beg you that for a second you remember your heart. Because a reflection in a mirror is purely deceiving while a reflection conducted in the heart is pure and true. You can't love. Your heart will prove that. You only seek quick pleasure and you cannot stay true to this love you claim.

    That is why I can neither take nor give love. I don't condemn you. I condemn humankind. We say what we do to get what we want. That love you claim to have. All it does is amuse me. How could you say that? How could you say that you love me? You don't know how to love. You're human. You are not my Lord. What else can I expect from this "I".

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Books by Nohely Peraza

I clutch my closest friends in my hands.

Why be lonely when you can travel?

The atmosphere tells me I’m a loner.

The air grasps my voice and keeps me silent.

But the pages of my book open up

Like the friendly hug I lack.

The laughing, staring faces pass me by,

And for an instant I feel ashamed for sitting alone.

But when I can’t keep my head up, I look down,

And my pages are there to catch me.

Like Holden catches in the field of rye.

Within seconds I lose myself.

I lose sense of time.

And I am transported to another world.

Where I am welcomed by the pages

And I am understood.

Where no faces pass me by.

I see through the eyes of the slave

And through the eyes of the slavemaster.

I defy dystopian societies.

I cast magical spells.

I lead a revolution.

I face death.

I change the world.

I am entranced and I am free.

And no one judges me for being me.

Then the voices in the other world.

The real world.

They startle me.

My friends freeze and I must leave.

I carry my friends away with me.

When my eyes are not entangled in the words,

My eyes seek to free my mind

Through the words.

And then the air grasps my voice.

Where are the pages now?

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Battle of the Sexes by Nohely Peraza

Sentimental, fragile, child-raising, cooking, cleaning, sewing.

Society has labeled these characteristics of a woman, but has forgotten that for some, this is the father.

Society says that women cannot be the breadwinners. They must make and cook the bread and wash the dishes and clothing that are left with the crumbs.

Society says that men cannot be affiliated with activities stereotypically known to be those of women.

Society says that women cannot be themselves. They must mask their faces physically with makeup to please society’s standard of beauty, and they must mask their faces emotionally so as to not be seen as overly sentimental.

Society says that men cannot be themselves. They must mask their emotion and fear.

Society says that women cannot earn as much as men due to the fact that they must have children and therefore take time off work.

Society says that men must work for the mothers because their body is better built for it.

We may be slightly different biologically, but we have exaggerated the differences and taken them to harmful personal levels.

We have forgotten values.

We have gotten rid of the corset but we women still have our course set in this world, and it is not the one they are capable of and rightly entitled to.

We got rid of the view of men as the knight in shining armor long ago, but we still have patriarchy, sexism, machismo.

We have both bitten from the apple.

We have become experts in creating gaps: wage, appearance, attitudes, behaviors--you name it.

And in this we have forgotten that we are all human beings.

Running the same human race.

Hiding the same scared face.

And learning the results of these restricting labels and disgrace.

We each are free to have our interests and hobbies because we are human beings. But we have hypocritically deprived each other of the values we hold true as individuals.

I did not choose this body. I did not choose these roles.

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As For by Melissa Hernandez

To be honest, I do not know how myself or how the world will be in 40 years

Let’s see...in forty years I will be...56 years old...I know that’s old

Personally, I will just let the future control what happens to me

But I can assure you that I will definitely graduate from high school and college

As for marriage, I just hope that my first marriage will be my only marriage

but it will not be the end of the world if I do end up divorced

It just means that there is another person I can love and annoy for the rest of my life

As for my job, I do not know what job area I see myself in but I know I will definitely be a New York Times Bestselling Author so look out for my novel or screenplay in the future

As for children, I do not know when I will have them

But I do hope to that I at least have my little Matthew and Isabella by the time I am 56

But when I do, I will love them like I have never loved anyone before

I will teach them the things most moms do

I will embarrass them in front of their friends like a mom should

I will be patient when they do the things that I did when I annoyed my parents

But most importantly, I will teach them to accept everyone for who they are

I will teach them not to hate or discriminate based on race, sexual orientation, socio-economic background, religion, or however a person identifies themselves

As for the world, I want to live in a world where no one has to go through or even hear a discriminating slur of any type

No one should have to worry about changing who they are for the pleasure of another

I want to live in the world where everyone accepts one another for who they are and where no matter what type of background a person comes from, they can achieve the things they want to as long as they work hard

Will any of the things that I have just said actually happen or occur, well we’ll see in 40 years

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How it Feels by Josue Corado

Warm summer days.

Cold winter nights.

Beautiful sunrise.

Bright shining moon.

Gentle spring breeze.

Gentle fall rain.

It’s all the same once you have become society’s slave.

Trying to find a way out this endless maze, you can no longer tell apart reality from dreams.

You fear the response once you unmask yourself.

You crave for the acceptance of those close to you who don’t know your secret.

Mommy’s little boy wants to know how it feels.

How it feels when you inhale that last puff of smoke from that cigarette.

How it feels when that knife runs along your smooth skin.

How it feels to cry tearless tears.

How it feels to never sleep.

But most importantly how it feels to be happy.

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Hey by Josue Corado

The unexpected journey begins with a single step into the forest of lights and magic

Freak shows, roller coasters, food stands, and disapproval as far as the eye can see

A pool of people dancing soundlessly to the muted music

And a rusted ferris wheel that keeps spinning into nothing

I see fire lighting the gloomy night with sparks of romance

Nothing but worthless words fill my dry, salty mouth

Along with the taste of mint and chocolate from chapstick and kit kat

A hint of nachos, corn dogs, and popcorn intertwined with the stink of love in the air

The sharp pain on my neck, clammy hands, shaking knees, and cracking fingers

You’re the center of the motionless forest and I can no longer see reality

Clouded with hundreds of negative thoughts on how it’ll end, I create my own oblivion

The blurred lights and muted screams

Continue to get brighter and louder as if trying to drift me away

But I want to lay by your side, counting the endless number of ignorant people

Keep calm and just say hey

But... No, just do it

Smile, fix hair, laugh

I’m such a mess

Do it, no, yes

Smile, Laughter, Roller Coaster, Food, Blurred Lights, Mint,

Chocolate, Nachos, Corn Dogs, Popcorn, Mess, Forest, Love.

“Hey.”

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#UndocumentedStudentsLivesMatter by Marina Betancourt

I was born there. I don’t belong there. “They” say I don’t belong here. I was raised here. My life is here. It’s been 15 years since I’ve been here. Last time I was there, I was three. All of my memories are here. I can’t go back, my life is not there, it’s here.

School. Dreamer. DACA. AB540 Student. Not a Citizen. Don’t qualify for that. WHY. Different path, more work. Residency questionnaire for this school, for that school. Proof of being here. Provide this information. Give us that information.

Parents. Re-apply to DACA. You won’t accomplish anything without it. Apply to scholarships. But I don’t qualify for many. Focus on school but still fill out these forms. Do something. Be someone. But how.

Society. You weren’t born here. Why should you be given a chance. Why should we allow you. Go back to where you belong. But all I know is here, I belong...where? Where do I belong?

US. Where do we belong. Where do we go. What do we do. Do we qualify for this. Do they care. Will we be able to do that. Who decides. Do we risk it. Do we try. What do we do. HELP. SOMEONE. PLEASE.

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Heartbreak by Marina Betancourt

Heartbreak wasn’t when we broke up.

Heartbreak was the countless times

I wondered where you were but

you didn’t even text me once,

Heartbreak was when I realized

you didn’t care so much as to

even let me know you didn’t have

feelings for me anymore.

Heartbreak was when you said

you wouldn’t go see them

but went anyway and didn’t let me

know until the night of.

Heartbreak was when during that trip

I only received one or maybe two texts.

Heartbreak was not when we broke up.

Heartbreak was when you let the

relationship drag on, when you knew

you had no more feelings for me.

When we broke up, that wasn’t heartbreak.

That was relief, being able to move on.

I finally am able to focus on what matters.

I finally have the time for myself.

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Memories by Kayly Hernandez

There were

Dark halls

eerie dreams

restless nights

horrific screams.

Eyes open wide

For the blood-curling secrets

can no longer hide

Memories begin to replay

of unbearable kisses,

of the sound of his belt

smacking and smacking,

leaving a scaring welt.

With a pain ,that at that time,

only God felt

Feeling so betrayed,

Scared, and afraid.

Because you had trust

that was taken advantage by

an animalistic lust

Day after day

With the alcohol on his breath

you know the sad,

inevitable truth

of his power

as he crumples the beautiful

petals of your flower.

And Memories begin to replay

of clothes being torn,

of cuts being made,

and bloody bandages being worn.

Feeling like all hopes are shattered.

Living as though life is battered

Walking and walking

with guilt and shame

asking yourself,

“ Is this mess yours to blame?”

However, Memories begin to fade.

And you are mighty again.

No longer in fear of the

cruelty of men.

Continuing to be a graceful wren

Singing and singing

to your hearts desire

No longer under the influence

of a deceitful liar.

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Gone

Gone

by Kayly Hernandez

Out of the lives in the world

You had to walk into mine

No warning. No Sign.

  Such a cruel fate to the heart

that’s mine,

leaving me drunk

on the fruit of your wine

  Such a lovely gift

Ah, so heavenly divine!

Not one word spoken

only this erupting feeling

up and awoken

  A FIERY passion, an aching pain

burning and burning

with a voice of shame

since I regret

how I took you

in vain

[stanford-project-write]

Bubble Tea Love

                              Bubble Tea Love

He’s here

He’s near

My eyes open wide

My mouth produces a neverending smile

Which I must admit lasts for a while

My cheeks are flushing

The blood is rushing

Butterflies are flying

so exhilarated, alive, complete

Because I see him

  He’s here

He’s near

I taste the sacrament bread

The wine

There is a warm flood in my heart

I see him after boba tea

Jasmine tea lingers

On my mouth

Like the way

The taste of his mouth

Lingers

I like boba tea

I like him

  He’s here

He’s near

His voice melts me like a caramel

In a mouth

Classy, jazzy, soothing

like heavy metal

Making my heart pump pump pump

Poppy, prominent

smooth, smart, sexy

Funny, friendly

  I’m addicted to boba tea

like I’m addicted to him

I like boba tea

I like him

  He’s here

He’s near

I lean in for a hug

He’s worked out there is no doubt

Old Spice has never smelled better

Than on the person you think

you’ll love forever

  Boba tea eventually leaves my taste buds

Like other things

  He’s not here

He’s not near

Utah seems so far away

One day

He came back

Butterflies

Shaking

Smiling

They came back

I might not see him again

but please let’s not forget

each other

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Darian Andrade

When I learned that Disney’s Frozen won the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature Film, I was devastated and angry. I could not believe that the regurgitated, sorry excuse of a meaningful film won over Studio Ghibli’s The Wind Rises; the final film that Hayao Miyazaki will ever make. I want to take a moment to explain that I am not biased. I grew up watching both Studio Ghibli and Disney films. It is only now that I see that Disney is not what it used to be. Disney is like the holidays in the sense that it is corporatized. It started out as a real, magical representation of children’s dreams. The difference between the two studios is the level to which the visionary, the original spark, the man behind it all was involved.  For Disney, Walt Disney was there in the beginning and saw his dream lift of from the ground; that’s it. For Studio Ghibli, Hayao Miyazaki was always the driving force behind the movies he created. He made sure that the movie was all he meant it to be. Each Studio Ghibli movie is a hand-crafted piece of art and each one has a cast of characters that the audience falls in love with. The magic of Studio Ghibli is not mass produced and pushed on the youth until all the girls want to be just like the unrealistically beautiful princesses. Disney provides them with the framework to develop what has become a defining characteristic of America’s youth; to hate themselves because they do not loom like the photo-shopped, “perfect” women that the media portrays. That is the true difference between the two studios. Studio Ghibli does not do that. It creates a window which allows people of all ages to relive their dreams and create new ones. Studio Ghibli has been my inspiration for writing. I hope to one day write a piece of art equal to any one of the Studio Ghibli movies. To Mr. Miyazaki, arigatō.

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Jeremy Johnson by Melissa Hernandez

Star student, amazing athlete, a gentleman, and my friend

The way his eyes shined that it didn’t even matter if they were blue like the ocean or a perfect shade or brown

How that one dimple brought out that extra flare to his unknown presence

His smile was the type of smile that just made you either smile back or laugh with joy

He was the type of person who can leave a room speechless after just saying one simple word

He would make anyone feel scared because they were in his presence without him knowing that

He had the laugh that would make you want to laugh without even knowing the joke

He had the persona that just made anyone want to be friends with him

Handsome like Dorian Gray

Charming like Jay Gatsby

Brave like Percy Jackson

And just purely wonderful like Augustus Waters

Us together were like two peas in a pod

Best friends since kindergarten

He was my first friend

My first prom date

My first kiss

And my first love

He grew up to be a successful businessman

A great husband and a great father

Too bad he ended up not being mine

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Future Son by Melissa Hernandez

Dear Future son,

I am still trying to figure out the meaning of life but I do know one simple truth about our world.

The simple truth about this world that you live in is that it’s a cruel world out there.

It’s a cruel world filled with cruel people.

People will hurt you

People will try to bring you down

People may not like you because of who you are or who you love

And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it will not be easy to ignore these people

If you’re ethnicity is full Latino, then you might hear things like “Where are your papers”

If it’s mixed with African-American then it might be things like “You do have a daddy right?”

If it’s mixed with white then it might be things like “OMG!!! Starbucks and Chipotle is LIFE!!!

If it’s mixed with Asian, it might be things like “Wow. Your eyes are not completely shut”

And a whole lot more

The words will hurt and sometimes actions will be taken

But like good old Winston Churchill once said:

“You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life.”

The people that will try to bring you the most pain may either hate you for what you stand for

or because they are just jealous of you. I mean you are my son.

But here are two things to always remember::

First, live life to the fullest. Love who you love. Do what you want (just not illegal activity). Stand for what you stand for. Say what you need to say. Be who you want to be.

Second, as your mother, I will love you no matter what becomes of you. So if anyone does come to hurt you, they can just meet Mama and truly see what hell really is like.

I love you and and I will be proud in whatever becomes of you and of the fact I am proud to be your mother.

Sincerely,

Mama

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Darian Andrade

Lying awake in bed. Wondering how it came to end like it did. Just me and my thoughts, thinking about the time before, trying to forget, but always remembering.

BEFORE THAT, watching Friends, the episode called “The One with the List.” The one where Ross gets with Rachel and messed it all up. Me, thinking how stupid Ross was but then remembering how stupid I had been. Eating chocolate cake with milk, trying to forget.

BEFORE THAT, playing Black Ops I zombies with some of my best friends. Immersing myself in the game laughing, joking, trying to forget.

BEFORE THAT, watching Naruto Shippuden, the Movie, eating chinese food. The feelings nudging at the back of my head. The burning sensation crawling up my neck, trying to forget.

BEFORE THAT, the crazy Snapchat stories. The shots, the slaughtering of fruits, Pursuit of Happiness playing over and over and over, playing the ninja with the face mask on, my sword poised to strike.  Not caring about anything, trying to work out in my mind how it happened. Trying to forget.

BEFORE THAT, in the shower, Foreigner, Cold as Ice, playing on the speakers as loud as possible. Letting the water wash over me as my tears joined the flowing water. Trying to let the memories float away, trying to forget.

BEFORE THAT, in the car on the way home. My mom asking me what was wrong. Me, still in shock, just saying that nothing was wrong.

BEFORE THAT, “I don’t want to hurt you.” “I want to depend on you as a friend.” “I don’t want to say that it is over.” In my head...BUT IT IS! IT IS OVER AND I CANNOT SAY ANYTHING BECAUSE I WILL BE THE ONE WHO IS BLAMED! The pain...the kind of shocked pain that one feels a while after the wound is inflicted, wanting to forget in that moment that pain that is to come.

BEFORE THAT, it was a normal, boring Friday.

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#AllLivesMatter

#ALLLIVESMATTER

  “All human lives are worth the same and worth saving” is a quote by J.K. Rowling that has stuck in my head because it is so true. There is no value we can place on people because we all live on this planet Earth and we were all conceived in the same manner. When I hear about discrimination or people being judged by the way they look or even celebrities getting special treatment, I feel a bit disgusted and sick because they are placing higher value on one person over someone else.

I believe everyone should be treated equally because we all matter and we are capable of accomplishing great things in this world. All lives matter because no one is perfect, because everyone is unique, because there’s no shame in how you were born, because there’s no point in hating things about others or yourself that can’t be changed, Because everyone has the choice to live how they want, not how others expect them and, because we are all HUMAN. As a society, we have become too corrupt and judgemental about those who don’t follow what you believe or look the way you want them to or act like you. We set expectations that make those who don’t follow those expectations feel horrible about themselves, making them think that their lives don’t matter when it does. SO, when you look at yourself in the mirror, when you walk on the street, when you meet new people, or even meet with old friends, remember that your life matters just as their lives matter.   

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#DepressedLivesMatter by Mikayla Dones

A new hashtag. A forgotten yet increasing topic. And countless stories of what matters.

Hmmm we really need a hashtag to remind people that something actually matters. An adventure to go on through the lives of “souls and minds that cannot be cured by time.”

Time. T-I-M-E. A four letter word that has been going on for centuries.

The misconceptions that follow this four letter word T-I-M-E,

Is that it has the ability to heal all wounds but in fact time is neutral and can be used constructively or destructively.

Attention seeker. Emo. Abused. Bullied. Drug Addicts. Alcoholics. Pill poppers. Cutters. Suicidal. Smokers. If we tell these people that have been hashtagged that their labels will be the resurgence of their problems

it wont make a difference.

because all they will be left to do is wait. wait on time to do their bidding.

but as they wait their problems and their pain does not go away

in fact it is still as stark as night and day

the only thing that time can change or heal

is the cuts on my heels,  my wrists and my sides

but the pain in my soul still resides.

because time cannot heal or bury the story of mine.

So if I keep waiting and waiting surely this smile I plaster daily

will be overrun and hidden by the demons of Satan.

those same demons reminding me off my past

a recurrence of phrases “its not the bad’ youre not depressed your just moody. your’e a teen you just have an attitutde.

Those same demons keep me up at night, darkening my soul everyday and night

I turn to the drugs and let my problems float away in one direction as I float in the other.