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Anya's Evocative Mind Palace

A site where the depths of my brain are exposed beyond belief

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What’s Poppin’

I cannot fathom the lack of humanity existent in some people in the world today. The attack on Nice, France has burdened the hearts of not only the French, but also the rest of the world. My heart can no longer bear this. How can a person get to a point where they are willing to kill a mass amount of people for little to gain? The truck driver who drove his semi filled to the brim with guns and grenades into a crowd of multiple people must not have possessed a heart that beat with the rythm of compassion. No person who loves deeply can take the life of those around them. Not when those corpses are children- little people too young to experience all that life has to offer, so new to the world they have not even dipped a toe into their potential- these kids are lying dead in a street. It is atrocious. It is disheartening. It is an event that makes me, even the least emotional person, weep for the families who lost their loved ones, sob for the possibilities they will never get to tap into, cry for the orphans and the fear coursing through people’s veins as they stroll through the streets which used to feel safe and routine, and beg for the world to value love more than hate. 

To Nice, France:  I am so sorry for all of your losses. May comfort and strength be found even in the darkest of times.

Love will prevailūüíē

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The Inevitablility of My Cracked Phones 

Hi my name is Evocative Mind Palace and I suffer from Phone-Shattering Syndrome. No matter what I do- I can buy a protective case and get a screen protector- yet my phone inevitably cracks. *gestures wildly and accidentally knocks phone off of table* *drops to knees and looks to the skies while wailing, “COME ON MAN!” Hereis one of the times I’ve indirectly caused my electronic’s screens to ungracefully split into itty bitty shards.

  1. The Ricochet Incident: Picture this- an unsuspecting teenager walking down the brick hallway of her school, having an admittedly hilarious conversation with her mother. On both sides of the corridor there are 2 benches- all of which people routinely run into, resulting in painful cries echoing through the school as their thighs bruise. I, as innocent as ever, am a very animated person in regards to my gestures during conversations. I talk with my hands- I always have. That was my first mistake. My phone- new and shiny- is clutched in my right hand. I turn to tell an extremely funny and dramatic story to my mom. And as my hand flies up at full speed, the phone flies. It flies like it was born with wings or rocket fuel attached to its bottom. In fact, I apparently throw it with so much strength that the phone not only hits the bench on one side of the hall- it flies ACROSS THE CORRIDOR TO THE OTHER BENCH AND RICOCHETS OFF OF THAT! Finally the trauma is done- or so I think. I pick my phone up off of the cobblestone ground. Please don’t be cracked, please don’t be cracked, please don’t be cra-it’s not cracked- It’s shattered. Go me! 

More of these earth shattering stories of my life told in completely over dramatic ways to be heard later. 

This post was inspired my the Daily Post Prompt: Glass

      Escaping Expectation

      We all have expectations. Expectations for ourselves, expectations for others. Subconscious ideas of what we SHOULD be doing versus what we ARE doing. It’s an endless circle and I for one am caught up in it. 

      When I glance into my slightly-dirtier-than-expected-mirror I see a girl who at 5 foot 2 and 3/4 inches is quite a few inches too short and just a few pounds too heavy. I ignore the fact that I am healthy, muscular, intelligent, deep, comical and a free soul- I push those facts away and replace them with my doubts. I succumb to mine and society’s expectations of who I should be. The idea that the my muscular thighs are too thick or my unavoidable stretch marks are disgusting. 
      But in the back of my mind I know that my stretch marks are not hideous. They are natural. I know that I am the one judging myself harshly- no one else cares nearly as much as I do. That they may notice how short I am- but they don’t think of it as a terribly sealed fate like I do. 

      I suppose we all have expectations. Judgements hidden in the depths of our minds, nagging at us as we try to live our lives. My goal is to block out these expectations- of my self specifically. Replace them with positive thoughts- knowledge of my intelligence, my positive vibes, my easy going nature. I am beautiful. I am funny. I can’t afford to be clouded with expectations. In fact, I will not be clouded by them. I will escape- slowly, steadily, from the depths of my mind palace and allow the world to see me as all that I am. Plainly. Simply. Lovely. 

      What a Day.

       

      The World Sucks.

      Sorry, that was a bit harsh. However let me give you some perspective: in the span of 24 hours I have been informed of the¬†atrocious 6 month sentence Brock Turner received for convicted rape, the death of¬†Christina Grimmie¬†at a meet and greet, and the¬†violent mass shooting at Pulse¬†gay club in Orlando, Florida. Needless to say, I am amazed at the ignorance and just overall prejudicial attitude consuming the minds of so many people in today’s society. Because I can’t fit all of my opinions on society in one blog post without boring all of my readers: Here is my take on the Brock Turner rape case.

      Disclaimer: These are just my thoughts and in no way are RIGHT. Please¬†don’t take this as the “correct” idea: it is completely my opinion. Feel free to¬†comment your thoughts an opinions on the matter.¬†

      As stated by the Merriam Webster Dictionary, rape is:¬† unlawful sexual activity and usually sexual intercourse carried out forcibly or under threat of injury against the will usually of a female or with a person who is beneath a certain age or incapable of valid consent.¬†The issue with this case is not the validity of the charges agains Turner: he has committed rape. He defiled a woman behind a dumpster without her consent, he was caught and he was convicted. That much is crystal clear. However, this is where things began to anger me. The maximum sentence that Brock Turner could have received for his crimes would be 14 years behind bars. The prosecutors were only advocating for 6 years. The judge presiding over the case sentenced Brock Turner to a¬†6 MONTH SENTENCE.¬†Not only this, but Turner will only be required to spend 1/2 of that time in prison and will be released on parole after 3 months to continue serving his time. The judge’s defense of his sentence was this statement: “A prison sentence would have a severe impact on him,” Persky said. “I think he will not be a danger to others.”¬†Do I really need to explain why this sentence is utterly ridiculous? Not only does it have disregard for the purpose of a prison sentence, it also implies that the victim will not sustain a severe impact from the rape. Rape is not something that a person can pick up and move on from. The victim doesn’t just get up, file a report and go about their daily life like nothing happened. The pain lasts. The emotions last. It does not just go away. So yes, prison would have a severe impact on Brock Turner. Yes, it may break him. But regardless of his age, race, status or potential future: he raped a woman and that is a crime that he deserves to be held fully accountable for. In the future, I hope that the judge reviews his sentence and understands that his lenient punishment does not fit the atrocious crime committed. Sexual assault and rape are heinous crimes that deserve to be treated with respect and authenticity. It isn’t a joke. These “20 minutes of action” can ruin many lives. One day soon the world needs to understand that.

      If you wish to petition against the sentence Turner received: feel free to sign or create a petition. Any voice matters.

      Attatched is also the powerful speech that the victim read to Brock Turner concerning the court case.

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