the bird on fire

The Bird is the Word: Sophisticated Schoolyard Shenanigans

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Back in Business

by 6 Comments

Dry, barren, and blank. The whole summer has gone by without a single article from The Bird on Fire. But, the good news is we’re back! Question is: Are you? I would hope you say, yes. This year our writers include returning staff me, Hannah Hall, and Quintus Ni, along with the new additions Jake Sonderman, Sara Habibipour, Elizabeth Shay, Erik Bearman, and Evan Spry. Since we are currently in Distance Learning, the Blog will be rolling out with alternating themes every two weeks. Coming back from this summer vacation, I thought that the first theme should be something quarantine related. Quarantine gave us so much time to self reflect, and with this reflection came new-found passions…or at least simple fascinations. So, officially, our first theme of the year is “Hobbies/Talents/Things Learned During Quarantine.” With that being said, keep your eyes peeled for new content; it’s coming VERY SOON! And, don’t be afraid to leave fun comments or opinions in the comment section; we love to hear what you have to say. 

Catch ya on the flip side,

Hannah Hall

Editor Hobbies/Talents/Things Learned During Quarantine

Not pictured: Quintus Ni

P.S. New content arrives in your inbox IF you are a subscriber to thebirdonfire.org. You can subscribe on thebirdonfire.org’s home page. And, you are always welcome to visit the blog site.

Luke’s Letter of Resignation

by 2 Comments

By Luke Langlois

Over the years, thebirdonfire.org has brought plenty of enrichment to my mind. First as a reader, then as a frequent commenter, and now as an author. Although it may seem like an elective that pales in comparison to something as grandeur as drama, blog class perhaps offers you the best opportunity to individually improve. It facilitates creativity, writing, collaboration, critical thinking, attention to detail, and, most of all, individual accountability given our small staff. At the same time, however, blog class is relaxed and almost never serves as a source of stress (unless you fall behind;, don’t fall behind). Plus, having published posts provide college admissions officers another look into the voice of a student, and getting into college is almost never a bad thing. Did I mention the glory? So much glory. Simply put, blog may not seem like an appealing class at first, but it has something substantial to offer to everyone.

As a graduating senior, it will become a bit more difficult to be a staff writer for thebirdonfire.org. Yes, it would be possible for me to send a post as an alumnus, but some things just need to have a strong ending. As such, I am officially resigning from my position as a staff writer, and there will be no reboot. Nonetheless, every single time I put fingers to a keyboard (or, the outdated method, pen to paper), the flare I gained from the blog will shine in my writing. I thank anyone and everyone who ever read my posts, even the internet bots floating around that stumble upon our blog. Now, I must prepare for the long journey (two hours down the freeway) to the slightly larger playing field at USC. Luckily, my absence from the blog will hardly be a factor due to the fully capable people reading this post right now: the students. You guys have incredible writing talents that are just waiting to be uncovered and, well, blog class is waiting. Keep up the legendary name of thebirdonfire.org and create your own little twisted digital masterpieces. Anyways, it’s been real. So long, farewell, and thanks for all of the Oxford commas. 

The Last Editor: Katelin Slosky

Quintus says “Good Bye”～

by 1 Comment

The school year, this strange year, is at an end. Quintus is off in quarantine in Shanghai. Before he left for home, he wrote this “goodbye.”

By Quintus Ni

Let the wind blow; let the rain fall; let years change; quietly stay in the fleeting time; fearless to the world’s vicissitude. To the end of mountains and seas, the most unforgettable one, in dreams, there you are, keeping your faith.

In a delicate world, with your promise to me, you held up the sky above your head, muttering to yourself with a few thoughts, constantly seeping, the sea of hearts from outside of the world.
 
Now I am, looking at the sky blue, with drops of tears, waiting for the wind, yet fascinated by the wind, facing the shadow, but feeling dizzy because of the shadow. I’m sad but the sadness won’t decrease. I’m missing someone, but that person hasn’t come back. Looking back again, the road is far. Holding on to the broken dream, I still won’t let it go.

A hot heart, with hot feeling, through the dreams of youth. Standing in this secular world, even if the mountains are high, I must see it all. I am not afraid of thick snow, long autumn rains, waiting for the warm spring, spreading the sun in summer, until once again into the covered, left edge of the dream.

Hold a pot of tea, standing under the eaves. Look away at the falling leaves. Quietly watch the change of clouds. Carefully listen to the breeze, ringing through the screen window. Life’s hardship and honor become nothing important.

However, in the dreams who would know time has a limit? Flying flowers scatter like smoke. In the hot air above the tea, even memories are like wisps of smoke. They emerge then disappear, gradually fade out, down the long road.

When the scent that flows into the bone marrow is swallowed, from time to time there come waves of bitterness, like those deep and shallow memories, suddenly bright then suddenly dark. When I’m not paying attention and shaking the body of the cup, the tea leaves rise and dance, float and sink, trying to find their position. Perhaps it’s because they are not resigned to the calmness. I repeatedly stir the bottom of the cup. Isn’t life like this, go back and forth, until the water is clear, which can be known by one glance. But the life always twists and turns, when the world washes away the dust, purifies, creates a completely sober self, not because we lose too much, but try to find a best balance point that belongs to oneself in this lifetime.

We are often walk in this world, afraid to be stung by this world. I suddenly no longer ask the truths.

The fragrance of flowers is slightly light after the rain. Facing hesitation, counting the torments, beside helplessness, listening to the heart, in the end one discovers, the life of a person is nothing more than being ordinary. Looking at the tea turning over and over, around for a few circles, and back to the original point of purity. The truth is, after growing up, looking back, it has long been destined that people’s lives are like a process of running around a circle.

The Last Editor: Katelin Slosky

Wake Up

by Leave a Comment

The differences of waking up during quarantine vs. before quarantine:

By: Chelsea

Under quarantine–

  • You don’t have to worry about getting up to go to school anymore;, you can sleep in until the class starts.
  • You feel too lazy to get up, so you decide to stay in bed until classes start online.
  • You don’t have to eat your breakfast anymore because you don’t waste energy running around the school campus anymore.
  • You can be half awake when the chat starts.
  • Your lack of energy to do things will make you bed-ridden all day.

Before quarantine–

  • You have to get up after your alarm wakes you, or else you’ll be late for school.
  • If you are too lazy to get up….well, you don’t have much of a choice but to get up to go to school or else you’ll miss a whole day of class.
  • You really need to have breakfast before school or else you won’t have much energy for the entire morning.
  • You can be half awake during classes in school, unless there’s a test due at the end of the class.
  • Even if you are lacking energy, you still have to drag yourself to the end of the day.

I think we can all relate to this to some degree.

Awakening Editors: Quintus Ni & Katelin Slosky

Selkie

by Leave a Comment

By Renée

poems, 

paintings,

petals,

sealed with a kiss.

you slowly drifted into me,

but once I was sure,

I crashed into a soft ocean,

where all I could think of was you.

Awakening Editor: Katelin Slosky

Honeybee

by Leave a Comment

By Renée 

how lovely it must be to walk with your soft hand in mine,

down an old beaten path,

where the only sounds we can hear are the songs of birds,

and our own laughter.

imagine,

to sit under an old tree together, 

watching the world pass by us.

there might be an ocean,

or a stretch of boundless land,

keeping us apart my darling, 

but never will you be far from my mind.

Happiness Editor: Chelsea Xu

The Definition of Happiness

by 1 Comment

By James Zheng

So, happiness. What would be the definition of it? A state of feeling content? Achieving an ultimate goal of life? Or an existence, void, a nothingness that is unreachable? Well, this should be an open-to-opinions question. At least we know that happiness is sometimes dependent on other things. 

I think, learning about happiness is based on each individual’s perspective. A thousand readers could visualize a thousand different Hamlets; a thousand individuals could also visualize their happiness in a thousand different ways. And, I think, happiness is primarily and mostly decided by one’s condition; not only that, it is also decided by desire. If you compare a wanderer and a millionaire, the difference is quite transparent. By talking about desire, it is divided into the short-term desire and long-term desire; one could be the wish for a random gift, and another could be the ambition of buying a house in Beverly Hills. One thing that is permanently the same about these two types of desire is that once you fulfill them, they would stack up. New desires would spring up. If you really bought a house in Beverly Hills, would you find your happiness there? All you have is a material presence that makes you content for a while and nothing else. 

Schopenhauer has said, We cannot obtain true happiness, all we can do is reduce suffering. And he has also mentioned that most of the time suffering is driven by desires; once you fulfill these desires, you feel content yet there will be another one. If you are unable to fulfill the desire, you only feel the suffering and powerlessness. Despite Schopenhauer’s pessimistic view on happiness, I think that we could obtain happiness in some ways. Indeed, true happiness can not be acquired, but what if each individual truly spent time contemplating his life: what I have and what do I truly need for happiness? When he finds out that answer, he may find that he doesn’t need a large pack of money but just a warm family. Is happiness a material object? Or, is it a pursuit, a goal of life? 

In conclusion, happiness is more a self-decided matter. Some people choose to follow their heart, while some choose to follow the reality; the difference is that one is to seek what one genuinely wants to forge happiness and another one is to find things for satisfaction that are not always for the purpose of happiness–like feeding your family. It doesn’t matter which form your pursuit of happiness takes, just slow down a second, and ask yourself, “Is this what I wanted?” 

Happiness Editor: Chelsea

Doomsday

by 1 Comment

By Renée Vazquez

noun,

the last day of the world’s existence,

a time or event of crisis or great danger.

so many people thought up great stories of doomsday,

terrifying monsters,

intrepid survivors,

extraordinary natural disasters.

none of them believed that a deadly disease from the same family as the flu

could bring the world to its knees.

All we have to do is stay at home.

Meanwhile fires raged,

caused by us.

Meanwhile storms brewed,

caused by us.

Meanwhile corruption festered,

caused by us.

One might expect any one of these to be the cause of doomsday–

difficult to fight,

a reflection of our own effects on the world–

it might’ve been more poetic.

But all we have to do is stay home. 

Then again, 

even that may just prove too much of an indignity to some people. 

Doomsday Editor: Doreen Yuan