Winter Journal

A child walks outside and enters the ice angel's palace.  He lifts his face to feel winter's first cold caress.  Laughing and running through the snow, he trips and falls upon a chilling pillow.  The child quiets to hear the frosty sighs of the winter wind.  From a distance, his mother calls him inside and he barrels to the door.  Being a good boy, he stops before he goes in and performs an odd little dance as he stamps the snow off his boots.  He smiles as the heat from the house removes his cloak of cold and replaces it with a blanket of warmth. 

The next day, the sun rises and all the snow shrivels away, leaving behind a snail-like trail of muck.  Everywhere, the repulsing mush creates puddles in shoes and freezes little toes.  The little boy looks at the runny molasses on the side of the road and sighs as he remembers the magical wonderland of Snow.

On the Cusp Of Sanity

 Author's Note: Erika and I decided to have a competition to see who could write the better piece with this title.  Please read and comment on my piece, and then read and comment on Erika's piece on who you think should win.  BTW, I came up with the awesome title.

On the cusp of sanity,

Teetering on the edge of the cliff

In constant balance, between two states of mind

No-Man's-Land, but I am a woman

Accursed and blessed is this ever-lasting forest

Accursed and blessed is me

Not one other soul;

Not one worm, or flea

Constant silence, broken only by my sobs,

Deep with longing

I live for nothing,

But I cannot die

Reality withers and wastes away

As I sit here, screaming on the cusp of insanity

Prompt Sentence

The silence between them sprung up like a fortress wall, impenetrable and forbidding. The young delinquent licked her lips, a nervous habit, though it came across as menacing.  The teacher was completely terrified. 
She had witnessed the girl kill Mary and was now wondering what the girl could do to her.

Evelynn,  however, was no longer in the mood.  Her anger had passed and she was now almost on the verge of remorse, almost.

A door slammed and her father and the principal stormed in.  Seeming to cross the room in one step, her dad was suddenly in front of her.  He slapped her across the face, and the impact gave way to a flashback.

They were in history, learning about prisons, Alcatraz specifically.  She stood there, completely perfect.  Suddenly, her flawless features creased.  "What if all of us were sent to Alcatraz?  That would be crazy, but I wonder if any of us will ever go to real prison..." as she trailed off, her wandering eyes rested on Evelynn. Their eyes met and Mary looked away and blushed a light embarrassed pink.  She's thinking of Henry.  She thinks that just because my brother was sent to jail, I'll end up there too. Evelynn's eyes blazed and after the bell rang, she had eyes for only one person.  It was lunch and about now Mary was normally found lost in thought in the left wing,  Sure enough, Evelynn found her leaning casually against the wall next to the bubbler.  As she approached, Mary came away from the wall and managed to get out "Evelynn,I didn't mean-" before Evelynn had her hands around Mary's neck.  Evelynn grinned at the wide, pleading eyes.  "I'm...sorry", Mary managed to gasp out.  This, however, only angered Evelyn more. Her wicked grin turned to a mask of rage.  Keeping her hands on Mary's neck, she began to bash Mary's perfect face against the bubbler.  Her nose started gushing and the sight of blood brought back Evelyn's evil and satisfied grin.  The noise, however, had also brought back teachers into the hallway. Mrs.Worros got there first and frantically tried to pull Evelynn off of Mary.  Angered once more, Evelynn decided to hurry things up.  Mary hadn't died as fast as Evelynn had expected and she now resorted to plan B.  Releasing her grasp on the other girl, Evelynn took a knife out of her back pocket and repeatedly stabbed the barely-conscious girl.  Mrs.Worros, of course, was still trying to peel off Evelynn, so she got stabbed as well.  This was simply a casualty to Evelynn, but when the rest of the teachers came, she knew she couldn't face them all.  Evelynn felt Ms.Gnuoy pull her back and she let her drag her to the office.

Evelynn finally reached remorse.  Maybe she shouldn't have killed her.  After all, they had been friends once.  But that was long ago, and now all Evelynn remembered was the apologetic face and pleading eyes.  Mary had been trying to apologize.  She couldn't help her straying eyes and it had just been a simple glance.  She didn't deserve this.  Everything that Evelynn had just done hit her, and it hit her hard.  She crumpled into tears and barely listened to her father's furious words.  "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?  OH, I KNOW, YOU WEREN'T THINKING!  YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR BROTHER."  He took a breath and calmed down a bit.  "You know, I expected more of you.  I guess I shouldn't have.  You're definitely your mother's daughter, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

This, oddly enough, was true.  The reason that Evelynn had such severe anger problems was due to the fact that her whole family on her mom's side all had a history of problems with anger management.  But Evelynn didn't know that.  She thought something was wrong with her.  In fact, I'm a monster, was her last thought before she jumped.

Whatever..I Guess

Author's Note: This is my prediction for the ending of an original piece called "Whatever".  This is for my prediction score.  Oh, and btw, I sound really harsh in this essay and I seriously am not that harsh and I don't really have a problem with laid back people, it just makes a better essay.

Don't worry, if my last opportunity door

closes, I'll just jump through a window.

Normal is no more.

It was so last season.

Don't bother talking to me,

I've lost all reason

I think it's somewhere under my bed

Or maybe in my black hole closet

Lost it just like my marbles, my poor head

People  glance at me, once, then twice

I bet they're jealous, just kidding.

My life is a dice

That is not at all even

'Cause I'm just odd

And I'm sittin' here believin'

That somethin' good is gonna happen to me

But do I really want it to?

Because I'm fine as you can see

Maybe insane, but that's no crime

Over optimistic, but not at all friendly.

Never in a rush, I've got time.

I'm just an average joe

Only a step up from a crazy cat lady

I've got a pet squirrel, he's my bro

I'm a crazy insane psychopath

A lazy bum, couch potato

That aced his way through math

Whatever, I don't care,

It don't matter

I've seen my fair share

Of things, in this world

Now I'm on to the next

'Cause I've spun and jumped and been twirled

I've eaten and slept, swam and flew.

Been to the moon and back, even held a star

But did that really happen, no one knew

'Cause I'm just me

In my own world, takin' on life by the stride

Me. Just me.  It's all I'll ever be.

And it was all I ever was
Until I met her
That ice 'twas
The stone that broke
My window
Life was a dream and then I awoke
To realize reality was a nightmare
I was livin in a box of glass, and the loss shattered my world
She was my only care
Now I have none
Not a care in the world,
I should be havin fun
Yet instead I'm
Watching the same episode
Of Law & Order for the fifth time

I'm sure you have someone in your life that is just a complete slacker.  That's exactly what Whatever is about, "a lazy bum, couch potato".  Whatever is a piece that has a really laid back "I don't care" feeling.  I had a lot of fun writing it and I thought it would be fun to try to do a bit more with it.  So, I wrote an ending to this piece.  I believe my ending is correct.

I predicted Whatever would end this way due to the fact that it is a comedy.  Everything starts off normal, but then nothing else happened.  This piece need a conflict and then a return to normalcy.  Henceforth, the "ice" between the man and this mysterious girl and the return to watching T.V., presumably on the couch. 

As I said before, this guy was a slacker.  He needed to be taught a lesson.  Though it may be cruel, shattering his fragile little heart seemed like the perfect way for him to learn. 

Two similar characters can be found in the songs "I'm Awesome" by Spose  and "The Lazy Song" by Bruno Mars.  If you're "eatin' at McDonalds because Subway's pricey" and eating it while you're " lounging on the couch just chilling in my Snuggie", then you're exactly what Whatever is about. Though the songs are like the original Whatever and they don't really have an ending, we can assume that if a conflict ever appears in their life they will just return to their normal care-free selves after it is resolved.

All three of these men needed to take things more seriously.  They didn't have a care in the world.  Then "Mr.Whatever" found someone that he actually cared about, but he realized this too late, and he was back to not having a care in the world.  Too bad he didn't know not caring would be his downfall.

A Christmas Carol Quote

"There is no doubt that Marley was dead.  This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate."

I think these words are important because they help the reader understand how the author will be narrating the book.  In this excerpt, the reader is introduced to the author's peculiar humor.  The reader then draws the assumption that they can expect this type of humor throughout the rest of the book.

Rajiv

He walks through the hallway and turns into cattle as he yells "mooooove!" Not daring to disobey his wishes, bystanders hurry out of his way.  As cunning as a cat, you can almost see his tail flick side to side as he stays low in a crouch and plans his attack before he pounces.  Suddenly, the tail stops.  He rises from the crouch, having decided not to pounce, but to instead carefully approach the parents.  He pauses for a moment in front of the two, and considers his options, one is more likely to say yes, but one is more likely to give him more time, though less likely to say yes.  Ready for a challenge, he licks his lips and steps in front of his father.  Taking his best shot, he turns into a business man and compromises; he gets to go to the game and when he comes home he'll vacuum.  Father takes a breath... and then shakes his head.  Refusing to be turned down, he turns to the other, but before he is given the chance to offer up his proposal, he is denied.  His eyes flash and he transforms into a raging, beastly bull, ready to run over anything in his way.  

Things are thrown and broken.  He tornadoes through the house, leaving a path of destruction behind him.  When he gets back to his den, he lets loose a  thunderclap of sound as  he closes his door none too gently.  The wildfire now contained, the people come back out of hiding and observe the result of his fury.  They all agree, the beast needs to be tamed.

Shattered Glass

 Author's Note: This is a possible continuation for William Carlos William's poem "Between Walls". 

the back wings

of the

hospital where

nothing

will grow lie

cinders

in which shine

the broken

pieces of a green

bottle

The story of it

fragmented 

Just like its

glass

But legend is

Tears

Once filled the 

bottle

To the very

brim

A heart is broken. This is what I think "Between Walls" by William Carlos Williams is about. Whether or not I'm right, there is definitely sadness in this poem. The mentioning of the hospital, nothing ever growing, and the broken bottle itself all led to the depressing mood of the poem.  

For my analysis, I added the background story of the bottle. I believe that my prediction was correct because I kept the mood of the story the same. 

Another reason my analysis is correct is because I made a simple object from the poem more important and placing significance on a simple object is something Williams does a lot throughout his pieces. For example, in "The Red Wheelbarrow", Williams wrote "so much depends upon a red wheel barrow."  

William Carlos Williams was an excellent poet that made ordinary things beautiful. I am greatly inspired by him and his piece was difficult to continue, but I loved the challenge.

The Meaning of Thanks

Author's Note: When Thanksgiving comes around, most people write their essays on what they are thankful for.  But I know what I'm thankful for, so I decided to write an essay on what exactly being "thankful" means.

A husband takes a bag from his grocery-laden wife.  She smiles and says "thank you."  Meanwhile, across the globe, an old man lays on his death bed.  He grabs the hand of his best friend and just manages to get out "thank you" with his last breath.  The same words are used, but the meaning is different by a landslide. The word "thanks" has many different meanings and emotional depths.

"Thanks" can just be a polite thing to say when someone passes you the potatoes.  It could also mean that you simply appreciate something, you are thankful that your parents bought you a brand new pair of shoes.  The meaning of this small word could mean something a lot deeper as well.  It could be used by a man to express his incredible gratitude to a fireman that rescued his daughter from a burning house.

Thanks could mean as little as a bag of groceries, or as much as a lifetime of friendship.  We have and we will say thank you many times throughout our lives, and some of those times we will wish that we have another word to say.  Though, we wish we can pay back the favor, sometimes we can't.  Thanks will just have to do.

Jar Story Prediction

"Hi Troy." Said Molly.

"Mmmbabablem" Mumbled Troy as he pushed past her, eyes glazed over.

Troy walked the whole way home and when he went through the front door and his mom greeted him, he didn't respond.  "Troy, it's rude to ignore me.  Say hi back."  Troy turned around and looked at her.  She gasped.  "Your eyes are so glassy, did you do drugs?" Troy just looked at her.  "Troy!  Answer me!"  "Steven, come quick, something's wrong with Troy."

As his father ran to his mother, Troy  started wandering up the stairs.

"Troy, come back here."  Said his father.  He kept on walking and his dad ran up the stairs and went in front of him.  Shaking him by the shoulders, he screamed "what is wrong with you?!  You are scaring your mother!"

Meanwhile, Molly was in Mr.Mason's house.  She had snuck in after Mr.Mason had left for town.  She was terrified, but she had to do this for Troy.  She had a theory and if it was right, then she would be able to save Troy.  Molly wandered through the creepy house until she stumbled into what looked like a science lab.  At the back of the room was a sheet covering something with a rectangle shape.  Drawing back the curtain, Molly's hairs prickled at the back of her neck.  Behind the sheet was a big book shelf that was holding probably fifty mason jars, all filled with different colors and labeled with names.  She gasped when she found a purple filled jar labeled "Troy".

Suddenly, she froze.  There were car squelches coming from outside.  Quickly, she grabbed Troy's jar and recovered the shelf.  Before, when she was exploring, she had discovered a back door.  She slipped through that now and continued sprinting into the woods.  The woods weren't thick, only about a quarter mile or so.  She came out the other side and tripped over a root.  Try as she might, she couldn't hold on to the jar and it slipped through her hands and smashed against the ground.  Awed, she watched as a silvery fog drifted from the purple goo and headed east.  Molly scrambled to get up and she followed it.  It led her to Troy's house.  Breathing hard, Molly ringed the doorbell.  A zombified Troy answered the door and as soon as he did, the silvery stuff went into him.  He inhaled sharply and rocked back on his heels.  "Mr. Mason this is awesome!  I-"

Molly cut him off with a hug.  Her theory had been right.  Troy's eyes focused on her and his face turned into a baffled expression.  "Molly, what happened to the science room?"

Analyzing Amy

Author's Note: This piece is analyzing Amy from an original piece called "Conference Piece."(Lame title, good piece.)  This is for my character analysis score.  You can find "Conference Piece" under 2011, November.

In "Conference Piece", two girls are suddenly reunited with their father.  Though this should be a happy moment, things turn out to be terribly wrong.  The girls discover that their "father" is actually a shapeshifter, a demon-like creature that feeds off of animals and humans and is able to then shapeshift into whatever it has just eaten. The girls escape from it, but the shapeshifter catches up with them and eats Sabrina before Amy manages to kills it.  Amy is a dynamic character.  She changes mentally due to several events.  However, her story is quite common among songs as well as novels.

We are first introduced to Amy as a girl absorbed in a book.  Here we can gather that she is educated enough to know how to read.  Then she went outside and was reunited with her "father".  However, with her being intelligent, she suspected something wasn't quite right. With her father randomly showing up, she had a reason to be suspicious.  Her suspicions were proved correct and saved the two of them at that moment.  We can infer that her suspicions came from being protective of her sister and not trusting anyone until proven safe.

I think this next line is really important because it shows just how badly Amy wants to believe that she was wrong, that she didn't see red eyes instead of blue.  "Amy couldn’t help herself, she had to ask him.  It was her only hope.  “Dad, what is my name?”  Whether she asked the question for her sister, for herself, or just as a last stitch effort of hope, it's definitely asked out of desperation.  You can almost hear her heart shatter when her "father" answers the question wrong.

Amy was Sabrina's motivation to run away.  If Sabrina was alone, she wouldn't have known anything was wrong.  She wouldn't know to be suspicious.  Our inference of her is that she doesn't know about anything bad, that she's gullible because her sister protected her from all bad things in the world.  That is perhaps Amy's biggest flaw.  If she had introduced Sabrina to bad things, Sabrina would have been suspicious, she would have seen her "father" change, her and Amy could have ran without Amy having to explain, they would have had more time, and they would have survived.

Amy was overcome by a feeling of helplessness as she watched her sister get eaten.  All that protectiveness, gone.  There is nothing left for her to protect.  And this realization actually angers her.  It is her fuel and her fire is revenge.  Blazing, she gets her hands on a sword as soon as she can and she kills her monster.

As I said before, Amy's story is not unique.  It occurs often in songs.  For example, in "Demons" by Imagine Dragons a man fights with a different kind of monster, an inner demon that is slowly taking over his life.  "Look into my eyes, it’s where my demons hide" (More on that below)    Though slightly different, Westley's story (from The Princess Bride) is mostly similar as well.  Buttercup is taken from him by three men and he has to fight them to get her back.  The men being his "demons" and Buttercup being his Sabrina.  The difference is that he got Buttercup back.  Though, that might be exactly what happened to Amy.  The story ends with her killing the shapeshifter.  We, as the readers, have no idea what happens next.  It  could be possible that after she kills the monster, all of the things that it killed are revived.  It never mentions in the story what happens when a shapshifter dies.  I suppose that's why the author left such an open ending.  For all you people who love happy endings you could make it so.  Or, it could end they way I mention in the conclusion... 


You have to remember that as Amy kills the shapeshifter, it's still pretending to be her sister.  The image of her sister being eaten added to the image of the shapeshifter sister getting a sword thrusted through its heart is enough to give a grown man nightmares.  But this is just a young girl that had to grow up too fast.  A mother is never mentioned in the story and the girls seemed surprised to see their father back, so who knows when he originally left, or for what purpose.  We don't even know if they were good parents.  Amy could have been taking care of Sabrina for years.  Then Sabrina gets killed.  Everyone Amy has ever known is dead.  No other family members are mentioned, so we can assume that she's alone.  An orphan,alone, in the middle of the woods with a dead demon.  If anyone finds her, there are going to be a whole lot of questions asked.


Here are the two verses from "Demons" that I will be comparing to "Conference Piece."

I want to hide the truth

I want to shelter you

Here is a huge similarity.  These two lines describe exactly what Amy was trying to do for Sabrina, hide the harsh truth from her and shelter her from the world.

But with the beast inside

There’s nowhere we can hide

This is a little different.  While this man's beast is internal, Amy and Sabrina had to deal with a real, live monster.  However, they chose to run from it instead of hide.  Their decision doesn't matter, though, because the demon would have probably have found them anyway.

Don’t want to let you down

But I am hell bound

Though this is all for you

Don’t want to hide the truth

Amy practically lived to protect her sister.  Everything she did was for Sabrina.  Amy probably felt as if she let everyone down when her sister died; her parents, herself, her sister.  

Burning Faith

Author's Note: Entirely fictional.  I believe in God and I would never do anything like this.  I came up with this idea in church.  I love writing about arsonists and I noticed how thin the pages were in the book and so I was like hmm, a new arsonist piece? And then the idea "burning faith" came to me and I had to write about it.  It's a little different than what I originally intended it to be and it's pretty dark but, still a good piece.  Enjoy!

Thin and frail, the pages are consumed.  The fire rampages through the church like a demon from Hell.  Let them pray to their God, their "savior".  Let them see that nothing happens.  Let them realize that it was all false.  Their Bibles nothing but story books and their crucifix nothing but two sticks and a statue.

Here I am, the ultimate sinner.  But they do nothing but stare. And without resistance they fall to there knees in front of their new God, me. They watched me burn down everything they knew and now they are broken.  Broken, I can work with.  For broken things beg for repair.  And I just happen to be handy with fixing things. I can heal and mend them and shape and mold them.  When I am done, they will be soldiers, obedient and ready for battle.  And they will worship me double the amount they worshiped before. For I am their Almighty.  

Auld Anxiety

Author's Note: Christmas songs are going to be on the radio soon, I thought I might as well have fun with it.

Should I be called old because I have memories forgot,
And that are never brought back to mind?
Should I be called old because I have memories forgot,
And the same old anxiety!

For I am old and have anxiety, my dear,
For I am old and have anxiety
I'll take a couple prescriptions yet
For I am old and have anxiety

This Is A Really Wierd Piece, I Don't Know Why I Wrote This

Author's Note: This piece is entirely fictional.

One morning, one of the neighbor ladies was walking her dog in front of my house.  Her dog sniffed around my yard and it decided to poop.  It was gross, but it was okay as long as the lady picked it up.  But she didn't.  No, she just kept walking as if nothing happened although she clearly saw what her dog did.  So the little pile of nastiness sat there on my lawn.  I mean, it wasn't like I was going to pick it up. 

The seasons changed and the first snowfall came.  I had always loved snow when I was a child, so out of habit I went out and let the snow fall on my face.  Then, looking down at the ground, I realized that the snowfall was quite heavy, there being at least three inches of snow already.  Again, out of habit, I reached down and made a snowball.  Letting the child inside me take over, I bit into the snowball and was prepared to taste the delicious icy nothingness of the snow, but instead I got a very different taste.  Spitting out the snow, I looked at the snowball in my hand.  Horrified, I saw that the snowball had a brown center.  I ate it.  I. Ate. The. Dog's. Turd.

Author's Note: Just in case anyone was wondering, I didn't murder anyone.  This is fictional.  I got this idea while I was walking down the bread isle in the grocery store.  I have no idea where this idea came from or what it has to do with bread.  Thank you and enjoy.

Does murder mark you?  Is it a scar, visible for all to see?  Does it give off a stench, vile and bitter?  Does the memory of it follow you like a shadow, impossible to get away from?  Or is it like a cloak, a damper on all other less important things?

I've discovered it's more of an embarrassing family member; something you want to get rid of, but can't so you just cover it up instead. So I see everything through a veil, my veil of lies.  It's not quite a mask, just a little curtain that keeps me out of trouble.  I don't let anyone come to close, lest they see through it. 

If you're wondering who I murdered, you needn't worry, it's no one important.  Just a nosy little gnat that got in the way.  I wasn't planning on killing her, but I don't mind that it happened.  I was beginning to wonder what  I was going to do if she found out too much anyway. 

So here I stay, unseen and invisible behind my carefully woven curtain, always keeping something on me just in case someone comes near.  A kitchen knife here, a pocket knife there. For I can't let them see through my veil....  I can't let them see that I'm afraid.

"Rumour Has It" Halloween Paraody "Legend Has It"

Author's Note: The is is about a boy that sneaks out in the middle of the night to go to a house that is haunted by an old ghost and "rumor has it" he ran out of the house screaming for his mom.

She, she ain't real 
She ain't able to eat or taste things like dill
She is a myth
Her murder is history
Or don't you remember?
Sure, she's practically immortal
But, baby, everything can always die 
Bless her soul, it never made it to the clouds
She made a fool out of science
And, boy, she's drifting downtown
She made your heart stand still
When she floated through the floor
Now legend has it she haunts that house forevermore

Legend has it(x 8)  

She, is twice your age,
But I'm guessing that's not the reason you're afraid,
I heard you've been missing mommy,

You've been telling people things you shouldn't be,
Like when you creeped out when no one was around,
Haven't you heard the rumours?
Bless her soul, it never made it to the clouds 
She made a fool out of science
And, boy, she's drifting downtown
You made my heart stand still, said she "drifted through the floor"

But rumour has it mom's the one you're crying for


Legend has it (x 8) 

All of these words whispered in my ear, 
Tell a story that I cannot bare to hear,
Just 'cause you said it, it don't mean that I believe it
People say crazy things,

Just 'cause you said it, it don't mean that I believe it 
Just 'cause I heard it,
 

Legend has it (x 14)
 
But legend has it she's haunting you forevermore

I don't know what to be, where to go, how I got like this.  How am I supposed to know?  Of course I knew in the past....I was a follower, simple, a shadow dweller.  But in this world, I am lost. I might be a leader, some  dumbfoundingly complex being.  How to define something incomplete... Am I just a wanderer, a speck of dust drifting in the air?  Can people see, but know that I am incomplete, like a bodiless arm in the edge of a photograph? Really, what I'm asking is, who am I?

A Partner Piece For My Rant

Alright, so I wrote an essay on the classes that I didn't like.  This is my essay on the classes that I do like.  Some of the classes I like are language arts and lunch.

Personally, I love language arts.  There's no better way to start your morning than by reading a book.  (Except for starting you day with a cappuccino.)  So having L.A. first hour is perfect for me. Language arts ties for my first favorite class.

It ties with lunch.  (This is sort of a side note, but I know that a lot of people don't think that lunch is a class.  I think it is.  I mean, it's on your schedule, it takes up a time slot.  If resource is a class, then so is lunch.)  I love lunch.  Eating and talking with friends is like the highlight of my day.  After we eat, we're allowed five minutes outside.  (Honestly, it kind of makes me feel like a prisoner being let outside for a few minutes just to see the light of day.)  It's great to be out in the fresh air when there's good weather, but it's annoying when it's cold out.  Then the bell rings and we all form a massive glob before funneling through the doors and going to our last class.

This essay is a lot shorter and simpler than my last one. It might not score as much either, but I just wanted to show the positive in my life as well. Thank you for listening.  (or reading, however you want to think of it)

Possible Introduction

Author's note: I have no idea what to do with this.

Have you ever had that feeling where it's like everything is falling away before you?  There isn't a single object that isn't shattered. As if everything is too fragile to withstand the harshness of the world. 

If You Thought The Original Ending Was Bad, Then This Is Even Worse!

Author's Note: In this piece I used an original piece, Memoir, to demonstrate my understanding of Cause/Effect

Memoir is about how I was riding my bike, and then a mosquito bit me.  I then itched the mosquito bite, and fell off of my bike after I hit a bump in the road.  I went inside the house and got cleaned up and it ends with me thinking of how I could have gotten brain damage.

The climax of this story is when I decide to itch my mosquito bite. (I know, interesting story right?  It's actually a pretty good piece.  You should read it after you finish  reading this.)  It isn't me getting bit, because I could still decide not to itch it.

The causes are:

Me not putting on bug spray.
Me getting bit my a mosquito.
The mosquito bit itching.

The effects are:

Me only having one arm to use and therefore not having enough power to steady the bike when it hits the bump in the road.
Me getting hurt.
Me having to put on gauze pads and Neosporen.

However, everything would change if I just hadn't itched the mosquito bite.  When I would hit the bump in the road, I would just tighten my grip and steady the handle bars.  Then I'd finish riding down the hill and I'd be perfectly fine.

What if one little detail changed?  What would have happened if I hadn't worn my helmet?  I would have crashed and split my head open.  I would have just lied there, bleeding until someone came outside.  Then I would have been rushed to the hospital and I would have had to have gotten stitches.  They might have even of had to cut off some of my hair!

Sucky School Schedule

Okay, so I'm sure you've heard the whole "I'm a teenager, my life sucks" thing before, but I'm a teenager and my life sucks.  The thing that has the biggest suck factor is school.  Granted, I have some good classes, but then there are some really, really awful classes.  Some of those bad classes are gym, math, and science.

We should not be graded on how physically fit we are.  I think that that is bull..... cow.  Yeah, that's bull cow!  The school talks about how bullying is bad, but they're kind of bullying the kids that aren't fit by doing this.  Those kids have to go home and explain to their parents that the reason they have a bad grade in gym is because they physically couldn't do the test.  No child should be put in that position.  Speaking of miserable children...

Math is bad enough because it's so difficult and boring, but then you add a nasty teacher?  I'm not going to say who, but I loath one of the teachers in the math learning center.  I never talk to that teacher unless I absolutely have to.  Though even without talking to them, I can still feel them.  It's like they're some vile disease that spreads throughout the room and lurks in the corners.  No matter where you go, they'll still be watching, just waiting for you to take one little step out of place, or make one wrong move.  And then they'll pounce.  It's like they take pleasure in children's misery.  Then there's also the subject itself. I don't care how many times you tell me that math is needed in life, I'm still gonna say that it's pointless.  Fine, I get that we need addition and subtraction and all that basic stuff, but when are we ever going to use the quadratic equation?  What is the point of learning something if you're never going to use it?  That brings me to my next subject...

Science.  No one uses it unless they have a job that has to do with it.  How many students are going to go into a field that deals with science?  Probably less than ten.  So the entire school has to learn the subject just for those specific students?  Science should be a class that we choose to take.  I want to be an author.  What does writing have to do with figuring out if a diet coke or a normal coke floats in water?  Please, someone explain that to me.  I am dying to know when I'm going to need to use science.

Ah, that feels much better.  You always feel so relieved after you've had a good rant.   Anyway, my point is that school is lame.  The only reason I actually try in school is so I  get good grades so I can go to a good college.  At that good college I will take writing classes, classes that have nothing to do with fitness, math, or science.

Pewaukee Lake Journal

I watch as the sky turns orange, then yellow, then pink, like multi-flavored sherbet. I feel the sand ooze from between my toes.  I smell rotting and decomposing twinged with a pinch of poop. I see the skeletons of many dead fish.  I taste the sweetness of my ice cream mixed with the bile that is now coming up my throat. I hear the laughs of children as they swim in the lake. Too bad they don't know about the e coli. 

Patriot's Pen Essay

What would you tell America's founding father's? This being unspecific, I kept my answer vague. I would tell America's founding fathers to treat everyone equally. But I shouldn't even have to write this essay, because time travel isn't possible.

Let me tell you why I think it's stupid. Time travel is something you dream about, it's not reality.  You only read about it in books, like The Time Traveler's Wife, or see it in movies, like Back to the Future. So if it's unrealistic, I don't think we should be required to write an essay about it.  The question is quote on quote "what would I tell America's founding fathers?"  The question implies that time travel is already invented.  A better question would be: what would I tell America's founding fathers if it was possible to time travel?  Even then that would be a stupid question because if time travel was invented, why would you go back to boring old colonial times that are full of plague and starvation? My point is that this essay topic is completely stupid and you might think this essay is completely stupid, but I don't care.  I just needed something to write about so I didn't get an F on this assignment.  So, sorry for bringing time travel into all this, but I needed something to make this essay a little bit more interesting.

Alright, I had my fun.  I'll keep the conclusion serious. Our founding father's did the best that they knew how.  It's not like they had built a whole country  from ground up before.  They did all they could, but if we were given the chance to go back and change things, we would.  That's just the way the cookie crumbles.

Graceling's Resolution

 Author's Note:  This piece uses the book Graceling to demonstrate my understanding of Conflict/Resolution.

Graceling is set in a land that is full of people that have special talents. These talents are called graces.  The king of Monsea is one of these people that have a grace, but no one knows that because he is gifted with a grace that allows him to lie and others to believe his lies.  Two gracelings, Katsa and Po, realize this and go after the king to try to stop him before he uses his power to harm.

However, they arrive too late.  When they reach Monsea, they come upon King Leck killing his wife.  They immediately turn and start the search to find Bitterblue, Leck's daughter.  They find her and start planning the murder of Leck. Po attempts, fails, and comes back injured.  The group separates and Katsa ends up face to face with Leck.  He tries to feed Katsa his lies, but Katsa sees through them and shoots Leck, diminishing the threat.

The main conflict is that King Leck is manipulating people with his lies.  This is a person vs. person conflict. The resolution to the conflict is that Katsa kills King Leck.

In Mockingjay, it's also a person vs. person conflict. The story is a little different however because for the majority of the book Katniss thinks that she wants to kill President Snow, but then at the end of the book she realizes that Coin was the reason that her sister died. So, she finds the person that lied to her, Coin, and she kills her.

Charcoal trees
Ashen faces
Shadowed lies
Mysterious places

Raging fire
Ruthless truth
Stone-hard hearts
Aimless youth

Fear-woven curtains
Transparent lights
Leaving no traces
Picking fights

Fallen stars
Moonless tide
Solar eclipse
Worlds collide

Student Rap

I've got a busy life ya know,
Let's start with track.
On your marks, Go!
It gets a little late
Like the other night,
When we got back at eight

You ready for this? I'll extend your comprehension
All you boys who think cheer isn't a sport
But let's see you try an elevator, ball-up, extension
I'm a base, we're the flyer's floor
My group is Macey, Danielle, and Abby
Our squad's the bomb, now let's hear a little more

What about school? Science and math?
They should teach us something useful
Like hygiene, man you need a bath!
The teachers all screaming 'cause you late
Assignments missing
(Forgot the date)
And what about School Fusion?
Supposed to be helpful, it's more of a chore
Just another thing to add to my confusion.

So I'm exhausted, I need a nap
Goodbye now,
and I hope you enjoyed my student rap.

Retelling Bitterblue

In the book Bitterblue, the main character is overwhelmed from dealing with the death of her parents, not knowing who to trust, and from being the queen of a land she knows nothing about. Fed up, she decides to disguise herself and explore the city. After several nights of sneaking into a story-room, she becomes friends with two strangers and realizes she has found the one thing she has been looking for, the truth.

Memoir

That day started just like any other typical day.  Sunny, a couple clouds, a slight breeze.  I was riding my bike up and down the hill that was my grandparents' road.  The road was cracked like a broken mirror  and desperately needed to be filled in with tar. It was summer, and summer in Wisconsin was that time of year when you get so many mosquito bites it looks like you have chicken pox. (Honestly, I don't know why anyone would want to live in a state that's full of people that look like diseased cheeseheads.)

So there I was, being a kid, when yet another blasted mosquito came and bit my arm. At this point, I was riding down the hill, so I didn't want to let go of the handle bars.  But it itched so bad! Leaving the safety of the handlebars, I let go with one arm and scratched the other.  I was gifted one glorious moment of relief before the front wheel of the bike hit a big crack in the road. I flew off the bike and landed on the ground with a thud.

Shakily, I stood up and reached up to take off my helmet (Thank God I had worn it).  As I moved my right arm, pain shot from my elbow to my shoulder.  Tears welled in my eyes as I cradled my arm and started walking back to the house.

As I walked up the pebbled driveway, I saw my brother staring at me. Just staring at me.  Why isn't he doing anything to help me? I would later learn that he thought that I was just freaking out because I saw a bug.  (Yeah, like I'm the one who freaks out at bugs.)

When I walked through the door, my mom heard me crying and she quickly came over to me.  She walked me to the bathroom and sat me down on the edge of the bathtub.  When I had calmed down, she asked me what happened and what hurt.  I told her what happened and that my right shoulder and elbow hurt the most.  My dad dropped in the bathroom and instead of asking whether or not I was okay, he asked where my bike was. "Oh, real nice Peter." My mom said.

"What?  I don't want the bike to get ran over."

"Your daughter is bleeding!"

Through gritted teeth, I told him that I had left my bike and my helmet on the side of the road.  He left and my mom shook her head and started cleaning the graze on my knee.

By the time my dad had come back in the house, my knee had been cleaned and my elbow and shoulder were covered in Neosporin and gauze pads.  Chuckling softly, my dad handed me my helmet and pointed to the dent on the right side.  "That dent would have been in your head had you not worn your helmet."

Shivering slightly, I set the helmet aside and almost subconsciously felt the side of my head.  A couple cuts and bruises were nothing compared to brain damage. Just imagine if you had gotten permanent brain damage just from one little measly mosquito bite.....

One Of My Favorite Memories (The First Time I Remember Sledding)

The first thing I remember was the shock of feeling the snowflake land on my face.  I gasped and snapped my head back.  I saw the  tiny flakes drift down from the sky.  One of them landed on my eyelash and my vision was momentarily blurred as it melted.  My mom called me over to help unload the sleds and then we started the trek up the hill.  My excitement heightened as we neared the top.  I was starting to get tired, but I was so close.  The determination rose up inside me and I plowed through the last feet of snow.  Finally, I was at the top.  I looked back at where I had walked.  My footprints were tiny next to those of my parents.  Other than our tracks, there was nothing marking the slope of the hill.  

My brother (of course) was the first one down the hill.  I watched him whiz down the hill and then slow to a stop as the slope lessened.  I wanted to go next.  I sat down in the sled and pushed off the ground.  As I gained speed I gripped the rope tighter, and then laughed at my fear of falling off the sled.  I loosed my grip again and even let go with one hand.  I let the free hand trail along in the snow on the outside of the sled.  All too soon, I was at the bottom of the hill.  Once again I walked up the slope.  When I reached the top, I got an idea.  I went back farther and got a running start.  Just before the hill started to slant, I jumped in the sled.  I was going double the speed than I was the first time.  The wind that whipped my face was so cold that my eyes started to water.  I slowed down and continued the pattern of going up and then back down.  

Before I knew it, we were packing up and I was climbing in the car.  As we drove away, I looked back at the hill that was covered with footsteps and sled tracks.  I smiled, knowing that we had left our mark on the mountain.

The Most Important Part (DWA)

There are a lot of people that think the brain is the most important part of the body.  Others think it’s the heart, or even our legs.  We have to realize that in fact all of us are wrong.  Think of the human body as a factory, and all of our organs and body parts as employees.  All of the employees have an important job, but they also depend on the other employees to do their jobs.  If something were to  go wrong it would be like a chain reaction of disaster.  The brain, the heart, and the legs are all needed to make humans function.

The brain is what makes us move.  It’s where our thoughts come from.  Think of it as the control center for our body , or the manager of a factory.  It gives out the commands.  Without it, we wouldn’t be able to do anything.   The brain is the most vital for our physical being.

The heart is also important  physically because it pumps blood through our bodies.  If our hearts stop pumping, we stop moving, and the whole factory shuts down.  Emotionally, we need our hearts as well.  Love comes from the heart.  Sometimes love is the only reason we get up in the morning, the only reason we keep going.   For without love, there is no life. 

Though without legs, we have no destination. A life without a destination is a life without a point. There is no stopping point if there is no starting point.  If you don’t have legs, you can’t go anywhere.  We need our legs to keep the factory running.

All three of these body parts are important, and none of them more than another.  The brain cannot do anything without the heart, and the legs can’t do anything without the brain.  Everything in the human body depends on another thing in order to function.  The ability to depend on others is what makes us human.  We have to realize that before we go around saying who’s the most important.

Quote

"I'm sick of following my dreams. I'm just going to ask them where they're going and hook up with them later."-Mitch Hedberg

The author of this quote was trying to say that he didn't like the phrase "follow your dreams" because,according to the original quote, you would never catch up to your dreams.  He changed the typical phrase so that the message is different.  In his version of the phrase, his message humorously says that you should catch up with your dreams.   

I completely agree with this quote. His modern touch on an old phrase is excellent and I love the humor in it.

I can connect to this because I too do not like the phrase "follow your dreams".  Instead I say "run along with them".  I'm glad someone else had the same point of view as me.

You might think that I hate you, that I'm full of spite, but really I'm grateful 'cause what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I may be dented and all cut up, but never completely broken. Always able to repair, indestructible.   I don't care what you think, this is me, this is my life so just stop with all your bashes and blows.  I'm done being your punching bag.  You need to realize that the person you're hurting the most is yourself.  I'm sorry there's no one there to patch you up, but that's because you chased them all away.  You were so blind.  I pity you. Just don't expect me to help you.  Watch out, the punching bag is punching back.

A Grimm Point of View

I'm stuck in a fairytale with no happy ending.
Cinderella's has to do her chores.
Sleeping Beauty has to lay there, forever waiting.
Snow White has to flee from the Queen.
Ariel has to talk without a voice.
But I constantly have to deal with you, the reader.  You're always babbling on about how my stories are so unrealistic.  Well, you wanna know why?  It's because I never get an "all ends well" day, so the least I can do is give that to my characters. 

I bet you're already thinking but no, the fairytales are written by the Brothers Grimm, not a little girl.  Well, you judgemental know-it-all reader, you are wrong.  I wrote all the stories.  My brothers just didn't think it was right to have a girl writer.  They thought I would bring shame upon the family name.  So, they took the credit.  I told everyone that I wrote the stories, but no one would believe a little girl over two full grown men.  They sold hundreds of books filled with my stories, and do you know what they did when the readers wanted more?  They came crawling back to me and begged me to write more stories.  Right now I'm considering whether to make some sort of deal with them or to just laugh in their faces and refuse.

I got it!  I'll tell them that as long as they admit to everyone that it was their little sister that wrote the stories, I'll write another book full of fairytales.  Of course, I'll also get half of the income.  Oh yeah! I'm going to be the richest kid in town, or maybe even the world.

Now you're probably thinking, but why is your life so unhappy?   That's because I only have a few more months to live.  A couple months ago, I was diagnosed with a disease that spreads across the body and slowly shuts it down.  It's already spread all the way up my legs.  I can't walk.  The doctor says I will lose the use of my hands in a couple weeks.  That means no writing.  Writing is my life, so if my writing goes, it makes sense that my life goes as well.

I better start writing, while I still can.

Angels and Demons

Angel wings
Demon fire
Rule the world
Never tire

Kill the living 
Save the dead
Always late
Never ahead

Set fire to the shadows
Snuff out the light
Good and Evil
A never-ending fight

Man Story

Oh my God.  She's so hot.  She's a librarian, but the nerdy thing is so cool.  I'm twenty-two and I've finally found love.  The guys don't know though.  I would never hear the end of it if they found out that me, an unemotional hot shot biker dude, has a crush on the local librarian.  Her name is Marge.  Johnny and Marge, sounds pretty good, doesn't it?  The problem is, she doesn't like "trouble makers", and me having tattoos up and down my arms with a Harley, yeah, I should just get a tat on my forehead that says "trouble". 

I'm going to finally ask her out.  Here I go.  "Hey babe, you wanna go out?"  She's turning around and... Oh My God!  I asked out the wrong librarian!  I forgot, the old librarian works on Tuesdays, today is Tuesday!  I just asked out a grandma!  How did I not notice the gray hair?  I need to get out of here.  

Why wont the ******* door open?!  Okay, here we go, in the parking lot, I'm good now. WORST DAY EVER!  I'm gonna get a beer.  

I love this bar. 
Great, the only open seat is next to some chick.  "Can I sit here?"

"Yeah."

It's her!  Okay, okay, act cool. What should I say?  Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?  No, no time for a pick up line.  It's now or never.

"Aren't you the librarian?"

"Just 'cause I'm a librarian doesn't mean I don't drink."

"I'm cool with that.  Hey bartender, two beers please."

"I'm astounded.  You actually have manners."

"Just 'cause I'm a biker doesn't mean I don't say please."

She just smiled.  I made her smile.  Okay, I can do this.  For the second time today, I'm going to ask out a librarian.

"Wanna go out with me?"


"Umm, I'm married."

****!  Are you serious?  I asked out a ******* grandma for nothing?!  This is bull ****!  What the **** is up with me having bad luck?!  This day ******* sucks!

Suicidal

Author's Note:  This is not a true piece.  I am not suicidal.

I am sitting in a puddle, a puddle of disappointments, loss, and blood.
I watch as the puddle grows bigger.
It is no longer a puddle.
I am drowning in this pool.
Don't help me.
Don't pity me.
This is what I wanted. 
I'm happy now.

The Window

I am shunned.  I am a disgrace to my family.  I am the only dirty window in the entire mansion.  Just because I am a basement window, doesn't mean you shouldn't clean me.  My entire family literally looks down at me.  I am no longer allowed to call myself a part of the Glass family, but it's not because of anything that I did!  It's not my fault the stupid humans always forget about the window in the basement! 
Here I am, collecting dust mites.  Come find me.  Please! 

A Tale of Perfect Insanity

She looks right through me with hollow eyes.

She laughs and gains seven more seconds of life.  

Seven seconds taken from the life of every pure soul.

A demon in disguise.

Hiding like a coward.

Preying on the innocent.

Recruiting the dark.

Destroyed only in the fire of good and evil.

Golden hair, charcoal soul, how ironic.

I'm suffocating in this room.  I'm getting smothered by too many unimaginative minds.  Let me out of this mind prison!  I must be freed!  My death will be the downfall of all.  

The freedom bell is rung.  I am released, physically.  But still, my mind remains in that black hole.  That horrible trap.  The jail cell called: a classroom.  My demonic teacher has stolen my thoughts and my freedom.  I am forever trapped in the tight clasp of the fist of my teacher.  I will never again be free.

Trailing Traces

Traces, a hand print

cemented, permanent

A constant reminder of the past.

A gentle breeze, a whispering memory

Forever today, a predicted tomorrow

A murderous night

The moon the weapon, sharp and deadly

Mars, the planet to collect the blood

Up, the sky, always a remembrance of the hand print on the moon

You're like a rain cloud on a sunny day

You're like a blizzard in the middle of May

You're like a dangerous storm when I'm out at sea

Oh, that's just how it is between you and me

You look down on me like you're God himself, gazing at his people from the sky

You look like one of those guys that rush through life and never stop to ask why

You look , but never see

Oh, that's just how it is between you and me

You never followed, just always led

You never cried or mourned for the dead

You never stop to wait for me

Oh, that's just how it is between you and me, don't you see?

We're just a reoccurring pattern, repetitive days

We're just stupid to never change our ways

We're just a  teetering tower, waiting to fall

Because you just have to go and ruin it all

Catch Me if I Fall

Catch me if I fall,
If I fall in love
I fall into your arms
Your eyes catch my gaze
You caught me
Catch the disease before it's fatal
Save me if I'm dying
Live as if you'll die tomorrow
After today, there's always tomorrow
Today is your day
You are one of a kind
All for one and one for all
You are my world, you are my life, you are my one and only,
So catch me if I fall

The City of Sorrow

She was born on the day that all sorrows ceased, in the city where the walls reached out to the sky.  The day was called la fin de la guerre, for it was the day that the battle between the kingdoms ended.  The child was rightfully named Mira Irene.

The King, after hearing about this child for months, wanted to meet her.  His squire piped up. "But sir, your Highness, she cannot even speak yet." 

"Then let her first words be spoken in my castle.  Send a messenger to her city.  I must meet this child." The King boomed across the courtyard. 

"Your Highness, why, may I ask, is this girl so important to you?"

"She was born on they day that the five year old war ended.  Her father died in that war.  The people say that it was she who ended the war, that some great power is held inside her.   Her mother named her Mira Irene , after the Greek goddess of peace. Don't you think it the littlest bit strange that a child is born and named after peace and not even five hours after her birth, a war that has been going on for five years suddenly stops?"

"It is only a coincidence."

"I think not.  Now, send the messenger and stop questioning my commands."

"Yes, your Highness." The squire sighed.

The widow and her young child received the message and made way to the castle immediately.  The king was delighted at how fast they had arrived.  "Ah, this must be the famous Mira.  May I hold her?"

"Of course, your Highness."  The King picked up baby Mira, and held her against his shoulder, bouncing her lightly.  The bouncing, of course, caused little Mira to spittle on the King.  "Oh, I am so dreadfully sorry, your Highness."  The mother apologized as she collected the now giggling baby from the King.

"Don't be.  Her laughter is so pleasantly joyful, I'm glad I got to hear it, and better yet, be the cause of it."  Just then, Mira spoke her first word, something that she had heard the King say.

"Laughter."  She scrunched up her face as she said it, as if it tasted odd on her tongue.

The next day, the King invited them to join him for lunch.  They accepted and met at the table in the main dining room.  It could seat 20 people, so the three of them sat at the far right end, with the King, of course, at the head of the table.

"I hear the little one's birthday is coming up." The King said.

"Yes, your Highness, she will be a year old in two days."

"Well, I would like you to stay at the castle and celebrate her birthday here.  I'll throw a party for her."

"Oh, your Highness, that's too kind, you needn't make such a big deal."

"No, no.  I insist."

"Well then, we accept the offer.  Thank you your Highness."

It was a party so big the entire kingdom was invited.  There were drinks, food, games and prizes.  The ballroom was opened and music played and people danced.  Oh, and the cake, the magnificent structure of  dessert.  10 feet wide, 15 feet tall, it was modeled in the shape of a dove.  It was brought out and everyone turned to look at the display.   Since the cake was so big, everyone was able to get a slice. 

Hours later, the King chatted and joked with Mira's mother.  One of his jokes got the mother laughing so hard she had to lean against the castle wall to keep her balance.  But she tipped over the edge a bit more than she intended and her muscle control had gone from her laughing.  Her arms fell loose and she dropped what she had been holding.  They were on the highest floor of the castle, and what she had dropped over the edge was baby Mira. 

The child  tumbled through the air and her mother watched, horrified at what she had done.  A little cloud of dust came up from where the baby had hit the ground.  A scream shredded the air. 

And so, the girl who was birthed in the ashes of sorrow, died in the echos of laughter.

The Lonely Teddy Bear

She used to love me.  She played with me everyday.  We would spin in circles and then collapse on the floor.  She would cuddle me and take me everywhere.  But then she got older.  She didn't take me anywhere out of the house.  She was embarrassed that she had a "stuffed animal".  I used to be a friend, not just a stuffed piece of felt.  Now, instead of living in the arms of my best friend, I live here, under her bed, in the dark corner where the sun only shines between 1:00 and 2:00.

No, my worst fear is happening.  She found me under her bed, and now I'm in a garage sale box that is marked things that are $0.50.  So I guess years of childhood happiness is only worth 50 cents.  I fear I won't be sold, and you know what happens to things that don't get sold, they get thrown into the garbage.  I don't want my life timeline to be store self to loving arms to garage sale to trash.  But wait, there might yet be hope in my stuffy world, someone is coming over to my box.  "Look mommy, it's a teddy bear!"  Oh, I can tell it's a loving child just by the way she says teddy bear like it's the best thing in the world. "Can we get it, please, mommy, please?"

"I suppose, it's just fifty cents."

During the car ride to my new home, I am held in the arms of my new friend.  I would cry of happiness if teddy bears could.

I will always miss my old friend, but at least the hole in my heart isn't as deep, now that I am loved once more.

The Tell-Tale Heart

 The man telling this story is "mad" and a murderer.  We cannot trust the point of view of this person. We see this story out of the eyes of a crazy man, so some things do not make sense, but we are able to see the reasoning of the murder. If we were to see the story from one of the police officer's point of view, we would be able to tell if he suspected the narrator.  Our interpretation of the story would simply be an officer who goes to a house, has a pleasant chat with a man, and then discovers that the man is a murderer.

Here we are at the house that neighbor had said she heard a shriek from.  The man who answered the door was casual.  He wasn't acting guilty.  We searched the house and came up with nothing.  He had said the shriek was his own from a dream.  It's a bit unusual for a grown man to be having nightmares, but nonetheless, he does seem like a trustworthy lad.  Such a pleasant man too, and such interesting views on life.   

He's starting to get pale, but I suppose that's just from lack of sleep.  He's getting into deep topics now, the root of politics and such.  Oh, he's furious now.  Working up a sweat, pacing, shouting.  I've never had such a conversation before.  

All is well and then the good host screams a confession to a murder.  

We find a heart and dismantled limbs under the floorboards.  Who would have thought a man with fantastic manners would be so dark and murderous to kill a kind old man? 

The Real Message

"My momma always said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.""- Forest Gump

Have you ever heard that quote?  Or how about the song "Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer"? Perhaps you have seen the cartoon  Tom and Jerry.  From childhood we hear and repeat quotes and songs and watch cartoons that mean much more than what we think.

Forest Gump speaks the truth, but there is so much symbolism behind that box of chocolates. Let's start with the box itself.  Life isn't fair and square, neither is the chocolate box. Now, how about we open that chocolate box?  Well, we will find the good chocolates that everyone loves, and then there's the bad chocolates that are always left in the box and thrown in the garbage.The good chocolates represent the good situations that everyone enjoys, like going to a water park.  The bad chocolates symbolize the bad experiences like getting sick. 


For this example we don't even have to look for symbolism, it says plainly in the song that Rudolf was made fun of and everyone called him names.  That only changed when Santa made him important.  The message that song is sending across is that you should only stop bullying when the victim becomes important.  Why do we still listen to and sing this nasty song?  Singing Christmas songs is part of having the Christmas spirit.  If everyone goes around singing this song, all through December everyone is going to be promoting bullying.


In the cartoon Tom and Jerry, a cat persistently tries to capture and eat a mouse named Jerry.  This cartoon doesn't teach a lesson, but instead a quality.  That quality is determination.  This classic cartoon also displays violence as humorous, which is bad, but then again, it is just a cartoon.  Children aren't going to go running around, bashing people's heads in just because they saw a animated cat and mouse beating each other up on T.V.  Yet even the violence is more than just fighting.  If Tom tries to trap Jerry, Jerry escapes and then has a piano fall on Tom in return.  This sends out the well-known message "what comes around goes around." 

There is so much more to the world if only you open your eyes and think. Realize that even the simplest cartoon is so much more than just bright colors and a simple plot.  Everything sends a message.  Be aware of what message you send.

Response to "Joy Ride"

The poem "Joy Ride" has several metaphors.  Take,for example, the first stanza.  The entire stanza is saying that humans are like cars.  Always moving, needing to be fueled.  We sometimes get dented or and we all have our scratches and scars, but most of us can be repaired.  "You're never immune to collisions", in other words, there are no guarantees in life. "Don't be afraid to swerve and speed,drive fun, crazy & even a little wild."  Just take a chance sometimes.  You don't always have to play it safe. "It's better to get lost listening to your soul;than know where to go, but not enjoy the ride."  Sometimes you have to listen to your heart and not your head; don't take the adventure out of life, that's the fun part.  The tone was very laid back and adventurous.  The mood of this poem was, well there's no other way to describe it, the mood was fun.  That was the whole message that the author was trying to get across,have fun.

Response to "Mother to Son"

The piece "Mother to Son"  has several metaphors.  For example, the splinters.  The splinters stood for those people that annoy you and are complete pains in the foot.  Another example is "And sometimes goin' in the dark Where there ain't been no light."  This meant that there will be situations where you don't know what you're getting yourself into.  A third metaphor is "So boy, don't you turn back. Don't you set down on the steps."  This meant that you have to keep pushing yourself and continuing on in life.  You can't just give up.  You have to keep going.  The tone of this poem was loving, but firm and encouraging. The mood of this poem was very inspirational.  This mother kept going and never stopped or took a break.  Her sheer determination was what I found so inspiring.  I was impressed by how well the author was able to carry that through the piece.