the taco bell

West Egg High School was the school where even trashcans look expensive. From the luxury cars in the student parking lot all the way to bathrooms filled with expensive soap, popularity was the only way to be seen here, and no had more of it than Jay Gatsby. The mysterious transfer student from abroad who's loaded with money. Ever since he joined West Egg High, he's been throwing these insane parties at his lake house. One day, hoping to capture Daisy Buchanan's attention. The school's picture perfect cheerleader who's also dating the loud and cocky football captain, Tom Buchanan. Rumor has it that Tom's not dating Daisy for love, but no ones truly knows the reason. Anyways, in the middle of all this drama is Nick Carraway, the shy quiet kid who's also Gatsby's neighbor. He's apart of the school's newspaper club and documents all the chaos around him.  One day after school, Nick's sitting on his porch writing for the week's newspaper when ...

The Great Gatsby is all about the American Dream. Mansions, luxury cars, power, status, etc. But the more you read the book, you start to realize that there is something else hiding underneath it all. For example, Gatsby's mansion is filled with people, but yet he's still lonely. Tom has power and status, but has no real peace. And Daisy? She has everything she could possibly want, but is lost in her own unhappiness. It feels like all of them are living in snow globes. You know those pretty pieces of art made with such care, they look elegant and pretty. But something is always trapped behind the glass.  As I read more of the book, I started to realize that money doesn't buy reality. Instead it replaces it. Gatsby has built a fantasy so big that he forgot where the truth is. Every party, every guest, and every car were all part of an image. The worst part? Everyone played along. They didn't know who he was, but still came for fun. Dancing to the music, drinking champagn...

I opened "The Great Gatsby" and flipped to page 39, the start of the third chapter. As I began reading, I got flooded with details describing an awfully rich man, Gatsby. From the crates of oranges and lemons all the way to salads of harlequin designs, you could tell how excessive these weekly parties were. The orchestra, the lights, and the cars arriving one after another. It painted a picture of endless luxury. As I read more, I noticed that all of this sparkle was more like a cover. Gatsby doesn't throw these huge parties because he loves champagne and dancing, but because he's chasing something else or maybe someone else. The sparkle is only on the surface, but underneath it's all an illusion that was built to hide the cracks no one can see. This felt oddly familiar, like scrolling through Instagram or TikTok and only seeing the polished version of someone's life. The infinite reels about vacations and perfect outfits, but we don't see the daily strugg...