Sunday, January 20, 2019

Wake Up Little High Schooler

Philippines Summer Trip
Written Year 2015 as a Junior in High School
Personal Statement for College Applications
Desired Profession: Nursing Practitioner


The day after my twelfth birthday, I encountered the most unforgettable experiences in my life. I was
in the Philippines, my first visit to a third world country. My family’s vacation was coming to a close
when my sister’s foot randomly swelled so much that walking was painful. As a result, my grandparents’
driver drove my grandparents, dad, sister, and me to the nearest clinic.
After the lengthy drive to the city, my dad carried my sister into the cramped clinic that reeked of rust.
The entire clinic was about the same size as a waiting room in the Kaiser Medical Center that I’m
accustomed to at home. We waited for what seemed like forever, my sister and I sitting on the only
two folding chairs, watching the clinic’s only nurse assisting a patient. When the nurse sent the patient
home, my dad moved my sister to a metal counter to be examined. I didn’t really pay attention after
that because I was distracted by the heat and filth of the tiny building. Perhaps because the clinic’s
doctor was busy at another facility in a different province, the nurse just gave my sister pain relievers
to take home. The image of that clinic will always be engraved in my memory, as I am so
overwhelmingly grateful for the cleanliness and quality of our medical assistance back home in the
States.


On the return to my grandparents' house, we stopped by the driver’s home and met his family. He
lived in the middle of Manila in a small closed off piece of land with his wife and their five young
children. Their land was occupied by two huts made of wooden planks and sheets of metal. I distinctly
remember the children running around and laughing, happy as could be, with no toys or phones to
keep them occupied, very different from what we see here. My dad told me later that day that the
driver was so grateful for his job and home, off the streets. Seeing their lives in the sea of poverty
of the Philippines really opened my eyes to the real world outside of suburban Folsom, California,
where I grew up.


I feel incredibly fortunate to be living in the United States, and I feel a passion and an obligation to
help those suffering from poverty. Now that I am older and understand the true challenges experienced
by that clinic and the people they serve, I yearn to care for those seeking medical attention around the
world, particularly in third world countries. Being a nurse practitioner would best allow me to use my
profession to make such a difference in the world.


_________________________________________


Anywhere but America Trip
Written Year 2019
Response to Fake Personal Statement
Desired Profession: Not a robot


In curiosity I went through my Google Drive and stumbled upon this personal statement
that I started in April of my junior year in High School. I started writing this horrid
essay when I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. My dad enrolled me and
invested his precious money in this stupid college counselor that basically walked me
through the application and enrollment process into my top choice colleges...they helped
me develop emails and applications to send to rowing coaches of colleges I thought
I wanted to study at.


So basically I was cheating...none of it was me. It was all Sharon. Thanks Sharon. It’s
not fair you know...so what just because my dad could afford to pay for this college
counselor then I could get this opportunity and acceptance into a sub par catholic
stupid private mother fucking big shot University with a capital U. How is this fair?
I wasn’t even that great in rowing. I was average at everything I did. So I really
thought I deserved an average future. But my dad thought the complete opposite.
I don’t know what was going through his head. I would slap my 16 year old stupid
pansy coward face all the way back to my 9 year old bunk bed. As Sharon and my father
both worked their manipulative magic we formulated my life path. So I chose NP as my
desired profession because it paid more than Nursing but it wasn't as much school as
becoming a Doctor...wow that really shows how sincere I wanted to care for people huh?
Thank you Allah for waking me up sooner than later. Realizing that none of it was real.
None of it was real. It was a fake life. My whole existence in America was a fucking lie.
Since I was just an innocent child who knew nothing about my family roots...I was told
to get a good job and earn money. I didn’t know where I came from, and I still don’t really
know. But what I know now most importantly is that I really belong is Asia. I am Asian.
I have to find myself in Asia. Not in the fake white country of America. America almost
got me so fucking good. They almost trapped me in their lie forever. The American
Nightmare almost killed me. Three times.


Maybe you are curious about this American poison that flew me out multiple times. This so-called
American Dream is farthest from a dream. It’s a lie created by all these sadistic Jewish
capitalists. Everything they created for the benefit of their capital and western world
to thrive and takeover the world. Feminism, sexuality, consumerism, selfishness,
individuality was all created to rule the world. To eventually destroy Islam slowly. It’s
already happening. Allah already gave us everything we need to live okay but people are
making it hard. Open your eyes. The poor is just getting poorer. The rich are getting
richer. And they want to keep us dumb. Numbing us with sex, luxury, drugs, alcohol and
dopamine fixes from likes on Instagram. What is this nonsense? They tackle human
weaknesses and strip us down to our naked bodies literally. They skin us alive and let
our skin dry in the sun. They take our skin and put it in our food, in our medicine,
secretly giving us a taste of our own blood and cum. They want us to be inhumane in
every way. They talk about human rights in the same way they fight for animal rights.
Because in their eyes, there is no difference.


Okay okay I’m getting a bit carried away here. So basically what I’m trying to get at
is no matter how hard you try to be the best Nurse or Nurse Practitioner or doctor
you think you can be...you will still be just average. Your white colleagues will get more
credit. Unless you cure cancer, or diagnose your sister thoroughly, you will be nothing.
And the worst part, you will just be their slave. Clocking in just like how you clocked in
at Whole Foods Grocery Store, switching shifts with other nurses similar to how you
switched with that bitch cashier who wanted more time to get ready for a concert.
It’s all a fucking joke. They numb you with all this shit so in the end you can be their
robot. Once you are in the system they got you by a wire. And you just have to hold
on tight. And better yet, everyone around you is going to be as plastic as the apples
they feed you with open minds but closed eyes and mouths. Maybe they feel bad for
you because you will never be white? They will ridicule you in secret, but still give you
a donut on Friday. And you thought this was good enough, oh wait, they will make you
worship them. And the saddest thing is that you will cry yourself to sleep because you
will never be white enough for your Asian dad.

Yeah sure the medical facilities and equipment is spectacular in the US...but it's just
part of their trap. All this insurance, retirement, and medical check ups basically reject
the existence of Allah. Relax. You are okay. Except death. Expect death. Life is simple.
People, positions, social statuses, Facebook updates, and borders just make it difficult.

No comments:

Post a Comment

La La Land

Every time I ask my "try-hard-to-be-american but is clearly fresh off the boat Asian" dad for 50 bucks I get the same boring, wast...