The Man In Black
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
If you really knew me
If you really knew me you would know that I really don't care for school anymore. If you really knew me you would know that I regret taking AP classes. If you really knew me you'd know that I'm excited to be on my own. If you really knew me you'd know that I hate following rules. If you really knew me you'd know that everyday I sit in class, I wish I was ditching it. If you really knew me you'd know that I have a strong desire to drink coffee. If you really knew me you'd know that I wish I lived in the 80's. If you really knew me you'd know that I really don't care for money as long as I have enough for gas and to keep hunger away.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Ordinary World
The Unspoken Rule
Every day, Mr. Patterson wakes up, gets ready, kisses his wife goodbye, and drives to work. He has two young children, a steady job, and a nice, suburban home. But one day one his way to work, his world is turned upside down. Driving along the highway a black suburban pulls up along side him, and drives him off the road. After crashing into a tree, he as barely enough time to look around before a man in a suit grabs him, throws him in the car and injects him with something. He quickly passes out as they start to drive off in the opposite direction.
Who are these men in suits? Where are they going? What could they want with Mr. Patterson? Will he ever see his family again?
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Sounds in my day
The sound of an alarm clock
The sound of a light switch
The sound of running water
The sound of a closing door
The sound of footsteps
The sound of keys
The sound of a car starting
The sound of a car door shutting
The sound of birds
The sound of a school bell
The sound of teenagers talking
The sound of unzipping a backpack
The sound of teachers
The sound of writing
The sound of students in a parking lot
The sound of home
The sound of doing homework
The sound of people
The sound of cars
The sound of dogs barking
The sound of people getting ready for bed
The sound of sleep
The sound of a light switch
The sound of running water
The sound of a closing door
The sound of footsteps
The sound of keys
The sound of a car starting
The sound of a car door shutting
The sound of birds
The sound of a school bell
The sound of teenagers talking
The sound of unzipping a backpack
The sound of teachers
The sound of writing
The sound of students in a parking lot
The sound of home
The sound of doing homework
The sound of people
The sound of cars
The sound of dogs barking
The sound of people getting ready for bed
The sound of sleep
Sunday, April 1, 2012
My Favorite Movie
My favorite movie has to be "Dances with Wolves." It tells the story of a soldier who chooses to be stationed at a post in the middle of the country where there are no settlements. He does this because he wants to see the "frontier" before he dies. As he lives in the country he eventually meets up with an Indian tribe and becomes one of them. One of my favorite quotes from this movie:
"The strangeness of this life cannot be measured: in trying to produce my own death, I was elevated to the status of a living hero."
"The strangeness of this life cannot be measured: in trying to produce my own death, I was elevated to the status of a living hero."
Sunday, March 18, 2012
The Red Wheelbarrow
The Red Wheelbarrow
By William Carlos Williams
so much depends
upon a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
I don't know why I like this poem but I do, it's simple and short. So it makes it easy to read.
By William Carlos Williams
so much depends
upon a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
I don't know why I like this poem but I do, it's simple and short. So it makes it easy to read.
Jealousy
"How do you know if you are going to die?"
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence she answered,
"When you can no longer make a fist"
-Making a fist, by Naomi Shihab Nye
This poem makes me jealous, I wish I could write like that, I wish I could express in words how this writer did.
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence she answered,
"When you can no longer make a fist"
-Making a fist, by Naomi Shihab Nye
This poem makes me jealous, I wish I could write like that, I wish I could express in words how this writer did.
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