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“It's a lot easier to be lost than found. It's the reason we're always searching and rarely discovered--so many locks not enough keys.”
-Sarah Dessen

"Happiness doesn't come from doing what you like, but rather, loving what you do."
-Becca & Scott (JC & AC)


Tuesday, May 22, 2012

The Last Flower

Author's Note: As a writing prompt/ journal given to us in Language Arts, this piece is supposed about the last living flower in a flower bed, but I would love to hear other interpretations. 



I bow to the ones before me.
I bend,
Lower,
Lower,
Lower,
Until I am practically kissing the ground.
I bow to the ones who have sacrificed for me.
I bend,
Lower,
Lower,
Lower,
And drops form on my petals.
I see all of the dead.
And I reminisce as I bend,
Lower,
Lower,
Lower.
Until I become one of them.

Friday, May 18, 2012

42

Author's Note: As a challenge, Mrs. Reagles assigned us to write from the opposite gender's point of view. The man in my story is 42... good luck!
 
"No! That is not what happened!" Gina cried defensively.
"Just shut up,  Gina," I sigh "You know it's true." The conflict deepens by the minute, the anticipation to get out of this "jail-cell" doubling every second.  Her cruel words fight against my silence for over an hour until I hear "Alright guys, session's over." I take my eyes off of the paperwork that lays in front of me and my eyes shift to something else. I'm stunned. In awe. It's my divorce attorney. My divorce attorney! Her eyes--  stars given by heaven. Her face-- a flawless canvas. Hot...
I'm in love. With my divorce attorney.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Poe Piece

Author's Note: We were asked to write a creative/essay piece based on a Poe piece. This poem may seem like it is really depressing but that's what Edgar Allan Poe does. Majority of his pieces are about suicide or murder in addition to insanity...I don't feel like this piece is one of my best... if not one of my worst. :) Comment please though!

 
I walk outside and abruptly jolt to a stop.
For, it is what I see.
The flowers are snickering, the sun glaring.
God, this world hates me.
Looking around to confirm the truth,
And that's just what I mean.
People staring, their teeth clenched.
God, this universe hates me.
Their looks penetrate through me,
Until I am just too weak.
If this world hates me,
Why don't I just leave?
My kitchen turns from a lovely place,
To one that is of shame.
The knives taunt,  the glass persuade,
God, what is this game?
My friends turn from loving companions,
To those of despair.
Isolation and loneliness fill me now,
God-- why this flare?
Anger and revenge  replace my drought,
Of isolation and shame.
For now I realize it is not my fault,
God, help me win this game.

For if they are playing my game, and my rules,
 There is no need to grieve.
They will have to pay, the damage done.
God, mustn't they leave?

Monday, May 7, 2012

Optical Illusions


In fourth grade, I was handed an "optical illusion" from my teacher, followed by instructions to focus on the picture and discuss what we saw.  Concentrating on what laid in my hand, I finally decided that the picture was a portrait of a young woman with a bouquet of flowers grasped in her hands. When bringing my perception to the class though, I was stunned at others' interpretations of the piece; majority of the class saw a man holding an umbrella! One picture, two different interpretations. The same thought applies to people; one person, two sides.

I learned from Rachel Joy Scott, a victim of the Columbine High School Shootings, that first, second, and third introductions can be deceiving of who a person really is. There is no reason to be prejudiced, to "pre-judge" someone.  You don't know their story, their hurt, their pain. As a society, we tend to look at people based on first appearances; we look for the "proper" jeans, the" pretty" hair, the "skinny" girls, for "perfect," when in reality we should be looking for beauty. I am not talking about top brand make-up, or designer clothes, rather, the beauty of their soul-- the good in them.  You may think one thing looking at these “optical illusions,” but you need to find the other side, the beauty.

One of the most recent, most common, and most hurtful ways to be prejudiced towards others: stereotyping.  Society is constantly being reminded by popular TV shows, magazines, advertisements that blondes must be dumb, people with glasses must be nerds, and those who wear a suit to work every day must be rich. Take a look at Disney’s High School Musical for example. You have the tall, muscular jocks with a basketball in arm, teasing the short, nerdy geeks with their noses stuck in a book. Then you observe the queen bee, most likely a rich, popular, and spoiled blonde with her “servant” by her side, who is in charge of it all. Not only is stereotyping frequently portrayed in films though, we make references to these stereotypes daily, possibly without even knowing it. If a brunette were to miss an easy question in math, we often hear, “you’re a blonde at heart.” If a shorter boy were to be on the basketball team, we would most likely laugh, saying, “you need to grow—like three feet!”Stereotyping is really just a missed opportunity in this world, a possible friend you will never have.

Although there are many ways to be prejudice towards others, the thing that makes the most difference, is your reaction to people.  Optical illusions tug on your brain, making you question if anything was really there. The same goes for the weighing of your reactions; you question yourself.
 
A common way to play it safe and “stick to the status-quo,” is to just ignore people, ignore their beauty, and ignore the opportunity that is knocking at your door. A person might first “pre-judge” someone, and say, (as an example,) “Oh, that girl is wearing lots of eyeliner… she must be Goth.” From here, society has mainly three choices: accepting the fact that the girl could be Goth, and therefore choosing to stay away, to simply acknowledge that a person is there, with no kindness of fear that they might be “weird,” or, to realize that if this person is Goth, they might need help, or they might just need a friend in this world.  Someone who would play it safe and play it cool would be the one staying away, far away, from the person who may need the most help. This is just another example of being prejudice.

If a person is not ignoring this opportunity, they might only be fulfilling it half-way. Like I mentioned before, another popular way to react to society is simply acknowledging the victim, with lack of care, out of fear that they might soon be the victim. In general, these people tend to feel unsecure and unsure of themselves, as they are unsecure and indecisive about making new friends. These typically are the people that need friends themselves, though they might not realize it, and not take full advantage of a great opportunity.

The most compassionate way to be accepting to people, is just that: accepting people.  As in life though, the right thing tends to be the hardest.  By first appearances, yeah, who’s going to want to hang out with the new kid labeled “weird?” But, if you think about it, who are “they” to label a person like that? Who are you to believe what “they” are saying without even giving others’ a chance? By stepping out of the boundaries others set for you, you are able to help others find a light in their lives and you will find a friend as well.

How many times have you heard the crowd gossiping about the latest “laugh stock?” I have personally heard it more than twice, and always had thought, “Oh… someone else will find them… someone else can do it.”  Wait—hold up. Who again is “someone?”The answer: you. You, reading this, are the first step to creating a “chain reaction of compassion” (quoted by Rachel Joy Scott.) You, reading this, are the first step to crossing the boundary. You, reading this, are the first step to helping others cross the boundary. You, reading this, are the newly found light in someone’s life. You, reading this, are the first step to seeing both sides of these illusions. You are the person to see the both woman with flowers and the man with the umbrella.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Chest of Childhood


A chest of childhood,
Lies in my attic.
Locked up day and night,
To keep it far, far away from the heart.
But every once and a while,
My heart yearns
For that innocence,
And every once and a while,
I seek a crevice to let my heart free.
I climb up the creaking stairs of past,
Turn the knob of the barrier,
And sit.
And sit.
As I inhale the sweet scent of faded wood,
And watch the sun glittering on the floor.
The light dances on the chest,
On the lock.
And I sit.