Humans of BTMS - November 2014
- bulldogbrief2014
- Dec 1, 2014
- 2 min read
Nick Sibiryakov
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We close our deep wounds by opening our mouths and venting our sins, our fears, our sadness and our stories.
Storytelling. That’s what it’s called.
The world around us, the walls that enclose us, the food that feeds us, it has a story. The story you tell to a good friend, at midnight in the summer one time in your life; or the story that you whisper into a stygian darkness. When Hyundai is selling you a car, they’re telling you a story. Our stories are art, not splattered on a page, but splattered on our souls.
This is us. We tell stories.
“When I was younger, maybe four, I got this pillow for my birthday. It was a big, pink beanie heart pillow, and I loved it. But I really wanted to see what was inside of it. So I asked my dad, as he was recording me, if I could pop it. He was confused, and he asked why I wanted to pop it. I told him that I didn’t know. But I popped it anyways and it went everywhere, and my mom sewed it back together. It was pretty funny.” -Jenna Maxfield, 8th
“A childhood memory that is very strong in my mind is that when I was about three, I was attacked by a goose, it was actually pretty funny. ” -Lena Stavig, 8th
“My perspective on life is to make the best of each day and always move forward, never live in the past.” -Trevor Leen, 8th
“Mind over matter. It means using willpower and perseverance to overcome limitations, thinking before you act upon something.” -Praditha Halstad, 8th
“When I was little, I remember riding a scooter and when I braked for the curb, and I flipped over the handlebars and broke my arm.” -Chiara Serafini, 8th
“In the third grade I got a pretty bruise on my face when I ran into a pole at recess.” -Kevin B., 8th
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