Raise Your Spoons

            My heart is frozen [from the countless times I spent eating ice cream out of the carton in my freezer]. I am a warrior against this artificial gust of cold wind. My name is Armine Kalbakian, and I am an ice cream-aholic.  I find myself thinking, “Are we back to this again?” My spoon, though little, digs up an impressive scoop of my favorite breed of ice cream: cookies and cream, and answers the self-imposed question defiantly. There is a certain adrenaline rush unique to the all-you-can-eat-before-your-mother-walks-in-ice-cream-parlor founded by yours truly. Some seek these pleasures as they jump off airplanes, or mountain climb, or sneak out through a second floor window, or dive into the depths of the uncharted ocean. Even then, success is not always granted. My rebellious act, on the other hand, is destined to make you full of contentment. This can only be done through a cookies and cream flavor of ice cream, however. I am a pirate and this carton of the loveliest mix of emotion is a treasure hunt. The vanilla flavor carries itself in a self-righteous fashion. It in itself is rewarding, with its simplicity. The chunks of Oreo cookies are worthy objects of my affection; they leave me and my spoon with something to look for[ward to]. When these two magical elements join together, their potency is evident. The contrast between the tender vanilla and the soft crunch of the Oreos is enough to make one fall in love. I hastily search for the pieces of chocolate bliss before my mother enters the kitchen to scold me. In this haste, there still exists a prolonged feeling of invincibility each time the cookies kiss my taste buds. In this haste, there still exists a prolonged feeling of gratefulness each time the vanilla soothes the darkness of my throat. In this haste, I am the cookies and cream ice cream. The cookies and cream ice cream is me. Together, we are the grandest breed of ice cream in the relentless sea.