Kristin Monteith
*** ***** Lane
******* *****, VA *****
Education:
******* High School Global Studies and World Languages
**** ********* Road
******* *****, VA *****
Phone: ***.648.5700
Fax: ***.479.5534
Anticipated graduation date: June 2011
Advance Classes:
2008-2009:
Spanish III
2007-2008:
Spanish II
Biology
Specialized Classes:
2008-2009:
Creative Writing
Global Systems
2007-2008:
Global Issues
International Careers
Languages other than English:
Spanish (III)
Japanese (I)
Honors and Awards:
2007-2008:
Accepted in to the Global Studies and World Languages Academy
School Activities:
2008-2009:
Noble Teens
2007-2008:
Literature Magazine
Community Service:
2008-2009:
******** Elementry School’s Parent’s Night Out: took care of kids
Noble Teen’s Christmas Video: wrote script and acted for troubled teens
2007-2008:
******* Public Library: checked in books
5/15/09
5/14/09
Quoting
Nelson Mandela once said, “The greatest glory in living lies not in ever failing, but rising every time you fall.” But what Mandela meant when he said that can always be misunderstood. Yet did he know that people from the twenty-first century would still be referring to his quote? I think he meant to say that no one should ever give up no matter the circumstances.
This quote says that life is not about all the mistakes people make throughout their life, if they have made any mistakes at all. According to my understanding, this quote is saying that life is about getting back up once any one has fallen, no matter the distance you fell. Even if the fall is as literal as falling off a bike or as mental as facing utter defeat, being able to get back up after whatever fall you have taken will make you even stronger in the end. So in the end, being able to get back up after a fall is the ‘greatest glory’ man can have.
Never falling is always easier than getting back up from a long fall. After every fall there is pain, hurt pride and confidence. For example when I failed a test all I wanted to do was to just wallow in my misery and self pity. Though what I wanted to do would have been easy to achieve, but knowing that I would live in this hole for the rest of my life I decided to climb back out. I may not have realized it then but I was following Mandela’s philosophy.
Nelson Mandela may not have realized how much his quote would mean to so many people in the future, but it did and always will. No matter the hurt pride or distance of the fall I, personally, will never forfeit my will to continue on my path of life.
This quote says that life is not about all the mistakes people make throughout their life, if they have made any mistakes at all. According to my understanding, this quote is saying that life is about getting back up once any one has fallen, no matter the distance you fell. Even if the fall is as literal as falling off a bike or as mental as facing utter defeat, being able to get back up after whatever fall you have taken will make you even stronger in the end. So in the end, being able to get back up after a fall is the ‘greatest glory’ man can have.
Never falling is always easier than getting back up from a long fall. After every fall there is pain, hurt pride and confidence. For example when I failed a test all I wanted to do was to just wallow in my misery and self pity. Though what I wanted to do would have been easy to achieve, but knowing that I would live in this hole for the rest of my life I decided to climb back out. I may not have realized it then but I was following Mandela’s philosophy.
Nelson Mandela may not have realized how much his quote would mean to so many people in the future, but it did and always will. No matter the hurt pride or distance of the fall I, personally, will never forfeit my will to continue on my path of life.
The Light of Hope Turning On
“It is a sin to write this.”(Chapter 1) These first few words have pulled so many readers into Anthem, only to be suddenly trapped inside Ayn Rand’s novel, too captured by her words to bother escaping. We see a world that could be ours, a world full of repression and sins that can emerge out of our world today in this small and impressionable novella. We see how far one change can go throughout the world of Anthem and in this world there are frightening sins, such as writing your own thoughts or even your own will. The thought that the world that has become could be so simply destroyed by the embellished value of ‘We’ is an overpowering thought in itself. Though the main point of this novelette is a warning against communism and the importance of individuality, though another point is made which puts this novella in a different light. Anthem shows hope more than anything else; it shows that there is hope where most would think there is none, a hope that is world changing. Ayn Rand is an author that gives us the hope of redemption, of individuality, and of learning from what could be and it is these hopes that make Anthem such an inspiring novel.
The first hope Ayn Rand gives is through redemption. Redemption of being able to fix what has happened in this novel, such as the loss of the now common light bulb. At first Equality 7-2521 stumbles upon a tunnel of the Unmentionable Times and unknowingly starts his journey to the redemption of the world that has become. At first Equality seeks redemption for the sins he thinks he has committed against his society, though it is his society that needs to be redeemed for their sins of repression and he is the one who shall bring his society to its redemption. As Anthem continues Equality is discovered missing and is whipped to divulge information. Though Equality gives nothing away to the two judges about his tunnel and ‘glass-box’ he saw it as a punishment for sins he thought he had committed. He thought it now fair to present his ‘glass-box’ to the World Council, for he had already paid his price of redemption to his society. Though his plan goes a fowl and he is rejected by the Council, he feels as if he has to run away into the Uncharted Forest of the Unmentionable Times, though it seems as if he is forced, this is the beginnings of him bringing back hope. Equality still has the hope to redeem the world even though he is away from his society, first by being reunited with Liberty 5-3000, his love, and of finding the abandoned home where he can learn of things his society never dreamed of learning because they had already forgotten it. Throughout Anthem hope of redemption is shown in ways that seem purposeless though everything serves a purpose.
The next hope that Ayn Rand displays in her novel is the hope of individuality even in a suppressive society like Equality’s. The fact that Equality shows signs of individuality throughout his childhood proves that even in a society that begins repressing individualism at birth a personality can still be prominent. “We are one in all and all in one. There are no men but only the great WE, One, invisible and forever.”(Chapter 1) Throughout childhood, the children of this society had that motto pounded into their heads and taught to think as ‘We’ rather than ‘I’ and that caused the lack of response as far as advancement and individuality goes, though there are the few who challenge the way they were raised to think, such as Saint Pyro who was burned to death and Equality who follows Saint Pyro’s example. Due to past experiences, such as with Saint Pyro, the society punishes those who differ to their pre-chosen path, causing people to recoil from the individuality that they would originally posses as a right of birth, such as when Equality yearns for the lack of understanding that his fellow brothers have and he wished he did not understand what he had done. Another example of the hope of individuality is that though Equality is taught to never favor anything or anyone he grows a favoritism of classes and jobs he wished to perform. He was able to suppress his initial teachings and act upon the initial instinct of human beings to favor one thing over another.
The last hope that Ayn Rand sends through her novella is the hope that we can prevent a society like this from ever happening. If there was no hope from saving the world from this predicted fate, no one would have dared to fight against the terrible force of ‘We’, though it clearly says in this book that people did fight against the impending doom that ‘We’ brought about. A way to prevent this horrible fate is to follow by its example, teaching children at a young age how individuality is an important quality of human beings. If we stress the greatness of individuality, what will be able to suppress it. ‘We’ was able to conquer ‘I’ because ‘I’ had lost its true meaning or had only left its negatives to be seen. Yes, individualism is a dangerous thing to tamper with and there could be many negative affects, but if ‘I’ took over just as ‘We’ did in this novel, isn’t taking the risk to find the balance between these two better than never trying to find any balance and just living with one or another? The people who had brought this fate upon the society were the ones who didn’t head the warnings of ‘We’ becoming too overpowering and had given up hope of finding the balance between ‘We’ and ‘I’. So Ayn Rand gives us the hope and warning to find the balance and not let either one control the other.
Hope shines brightly throughout Anthem. Whether through redemption, individuality, or prevention hope is a main theme in. Seeing the hope is always more difficult than finding the reasons to give up hope, which is why most would see no hope to speak of, but it was always there waiting to be revealed and to bring the world to its rightful place. If we do not venture to find the truth as Equality did, what can we ever learn? As long as we continue questioning what society says, we will never buy into such a society as in Anthem. Though I am scared to think of what kind of society ‘I’ would bring if it conquered all. Yet as long as we can find the ‘light’ that some societies may try to turn off we can still conquer such a society as Equality’s. All we have to do is turn back on the ‘light’.
The first hope Ayn Rand gives is through redemption. Redemption of being able to fix what has happened in this novel, such as the loss of the now common light bulb. At first Equality 7-2521 stumbles upon a tunnel of the Unmentionable Times and unknowingly starts his journey to the redemption of the world that has become. At first Equality seeks redemption for the sins he thinks he has committed against his society, though it is his society that needs to be redeemed for their sins of repression and he is the one who shall bring his society to its redemption. As Anthem continues Equality is discovered missing and is whipped to divulge information. Though Equality gives nothing away to the two judges about his tunnel and ‘glass-box’ he saw it as a punishment for sins he thought he had committed. He thought it now fair to present his ‘glass-box’ to the World Council, for he had already paid his price of redemption to his society. Though his plan goes a fowl and he is rejected by the Council, he feels as if he has to run away into the Uncharted Forest of the Unmentionable Times, though it seems as if he is forced, this is the beginnings of him bringing back hope. Equality still has the hope to redeem the world even though he is away from his society, first by being reunited with Liberty 5-3000, his love, and of finding the abandoned home where he can learn of things his society never dreamed of learning because they had already forgotten it. Throughout Anthem hope of redemption is shown in ways that seem purposeless though everything serves a purpose.
The next hope that Ayn Rand displays in her novel is the hope of individuality even in a suppressive society like Equality’s. The fact that Equality shows signs of individuality throughout his childhood proves that even in a society that begins repressing individualism at birth a personality can still be prominent. “We are one in all and all in one. There are no men but only the great WE, One, invisible and forever.”(Chapter 1) Throughout childhood, the children of this society had that motto pounded into their heads and taught to think as ‘We’ rather than ‘I’ and that caused the lack of response as far as advancement and individuality goes, though there are the few who challenge the way they were raised to think, such as Saint Pyro who was burned to death and Equality who follows Saint Pyro’s example. Due to past experiences, such as with Saint Pyro, the society punishes those who differ to their pre-chosen path, causing people to recoil from the individuality that they would originally posses as a right of birth, such as when Equality yearns for the lack of understanding that his fellow brothers have and he wished he did not understand what he had done. Another example of the hope of individuality is that though Equality is taught to never favor anything or anyone he grows a favoritism of classes and jobs he wished to perform. He was able to suppress his initial teachings and act upon the initial instinct of human beings to favor one thing over another.
The last hope that Ayn Rand sends through her novella is the hope that we can prevent a society like this from ever happening. If there was no hope from saving the world from this predicted fate, no one would have dared to fight against the terrible force of ‘We’, though it clearly says in this book that people did fight against the impending doom that ‘We’ brought about. A way to prevent this horrible fate is to follow by its example, teaching children at a young age how individuality is an important quality of human beings. If we stress the greatness of individuality, what will be able to suppress it. ‘We’ was able to conquer ‘I’ because ‘I’ had lost its true meaning or had only left its negatives to be seen. Yes, individualism is a dangerous thing to tamper with and there could be many negative affects, but if ‘I’ took over just as ‘We’ did in this novel, isn’t taking the risk to find the balance between these two better than never trying to find any balance and just living with one or another? The people who had brought this fate upon the society were the ones who didn’t head the warnings of ‘We’ becoming too overpowering and had given up hope of finding the balance between ‘We’ and ‘I’. So Ayn Rand gives us the hope and warning to find the balance and not let either one control the other.
Hope shines brightly throughout Anthem. Whether through redemption, individuality, or prevention hope is a main theme in. Seeing the hope is always more difficult than finding the reasons to give up hope, which is why most would see no hope to speak of, but it was always there waiting to be revealed and to bring the world to its rightful place. If we do not venture to find the truth as Equality did, what can we ever learn? As long as we continue questioning what society says, we will never buy into such a society as in Anthem. Though I am scared to think of what kind of society ‘I’ would bring if it conquered all. Yet as long as we can find the ‘light’ that some societies may try to turn off we can still conquer such a society as Equality’s. All we have to do is turn back on the ‘light’.
Thoughts of a Wanderer
Let my mind break loose, let everything go. Let my thoughts roam to the unknown and explore every darken corner. Let me critic, applauded, and rejoice. Let my mind be filled with thoughts unknown. Let me, let all, be free with no restrictions other than the boundaries of our minds. Break free of the bonds that hold us so tightly so we can wander aimlessly. Let us choice not to have a set destination or path to follow. All I want is to be free and not confined.
Thoughts roam as they will and that will never change, for no one can disapprove of thoughts they never hear. I find my mind wandering territory I could never imagine existed until I, myself, saw it with my own mind. So now that I have been down this road, or train of thought, I find myself going again and again to search through all the roads that lead off this track.
The first two roads are simplistic, one going left and one going right. So out of pure curiosity I stop and look down both roads, though I am already certain that I would take neither of these paths. The rode to the right was well traveled and looked as if half the world had tromped through it. There was a light at the end of the road that seemed to be as bright as the sun, yet seemed either fake or too real to believe in. Farther down the road to the right there were steep steps leading up into the stars and dark sky.
I then turn back to the other road to my left and see an almost equally traveled path. This path was as full of dark shadows as the other was full of light. Though this path seemed to spiral downwards far down the path. This path to the left was much like the one to the right, though they looked so different. They both seemed too real to believe in and so transparent it must be fake. As I turn back to the way I was originally going I notice two words at the bottom of each of the paths. The word in front of the right path said ‘Good’ and the word for the left said ‘Evil’. Two simplistic words for two simple paths.
I continue down the path I was on and went passed many other paths. All these paths were as simple as the first two and were labeled just as simple. All the paths always had the same two directions, one side going left the other right. There were always the two paths, never one alone. There were ‘Betrayal’, ‘Greed’, and ‘Lies’ to the left and ‘Trust’, ‘Give’, and ‘Truth’ to the right. All the paths I had passed so far were one or the other, a clear shot to wherever the path was headed, never more complex than picking one. The paths, for the most part, were clear, no obstacles to block the goal, therefore I thought the goal must not be such a grand prize. For what could you get for no more effort than picking what you want.
As I wonder down this main path, I wonder of where this path goes, for all paths must go somewhere. Unless this one path splits, it will continue on, and as it seems now, go nowhere. Then I wonder if there will ever be any other path that I would like to take, and if I would take it.
As I continue down the path searching the others, I notice that the further I got the more complex the paths are. Not just the paths to the left and right, but my path’s terrain seems rougher to. Though my path had gotten harder, I had barely noticed. I was focused on going on, continuing my journey, and would not get discouraged by something so simply fixed with some perseverance.
The words of the paths I passed became more complex and not all of them were white and black. Then I find myself stopping at a path to the right named ‘Curiosity’, the path opposite being named ‘Tempest’. The one I faced held a mysterious air that made me want to dare enter. The path seemed to go on and on with no end. I thought of going through this path, leaving the one I had been traveling behind. But then I looked back to the way I had been going, at all the other options I would pass and all the difficulties I would have to pass to see those other choices. I turned back to face my path and realized I had been facing to the left, facing the ‘Tempest’, only thinking that the path was ‘Curiosity’. I looked at the real path to the right and saw it was named ‘Refusal’. I smiled to myself, now know I can refuse being tempted, and continued down the path I was on, wondering if I would always be on this path.
The paths became more frequent as I traveled on. There became a time where there was not a rode on each side. The first rode that did not have another was named ‘Rebellion’. The rode was on the right, but rather than going straight and up it curved until it was parallel to my path was. But then it went off to the right again and continue so far that my eyes could not see. The path was covered with obstacles that went with the word and I was tempted to stray from my path and face the challenges that came with ‘Rebellion’. I shock my head and turned around to see if I could still see the ‘Tempest’ in the distance. I could barely see, but I knew that it was there waiting for me to give in. I looked back at the ‘Rebellion’ and smiled sadly, even though I would like to go I would rather continue down my path. So I continued back down my path wishing I could travel both.
Another path caught my interest as I headed down my own. ‘Thought’. It seemed to be full of twist, turns, and complexities. I tried to follow its path with my eyes, not daring to step any closer to the path. As it swirled to the left, I examined all the different obstacles that lined the path and thought how a person could ever make it to the end. To find an answer I thought more of the word, and saw that it was more complex than I could imagine. This kind of thought, so deep and full of philosophy, could never be simple and risk free. I stepped closer to the path and was overwhelmed by the sense of responsibility, complication, and pressure. I immediately stepped back for fear of not being able to handle the pressure the air around the path. This path was not for me, for though I love all the many thoughts that exist I could not comprehend the thoughts this path lead to. Rather than ‘Thought’ it should have been named ‘Challenge’, for all the thoughts the path lead to challenged everything the common mind was built up of.
As I continue on my rode passing all the options I could take, ignoring each one of them, until I see something in the far off distance. I paused for a second unsure of my decision to move on or quickly chose a different path. The paths around me still seemed like nothing and I saw none that I would ever pick. I know that everything comes to an end eventually, but an end seemed to soon to be. I walked on mindlessly, hoping a path that I could go down would show. None did. But I knew that the path I was on was my own and it was where I should.
I reach the end of my path, never turning, and am disappointed. My journey is over and I am left with just the word at the end of my path. I turn back around and look at all the obstacles I had passed and all the other paths I refused to take and realize that the word I had found was right. I turned back to the word and bent down so I could run my hands over the letters. The word was carved in the ground with handwriting that fascinated me as much as the word did. ‘Wanderer’. Before this journey, I would have never considered the word to have much importance, but now at the end of my journey I treasure the word as if it were my own. I stand back up to look beyond the end and then carefully stepped over it. I shall continue to wander and wonder where I shall go.
Let me wander, let me roam. Do not hold me to one single path, let the options continue. Though I know I will not pick just one path and will keep wondering, let me have the option of choosing. Let me be free to pick if I change my mind, though I know I will not. Though I am fated to stay on one path and never turn, let me feel as though I have the option to change my fate. So I can feel free. If it is my will to be free and is my own idea to be free.
Thoughts roam as they will and that will never change, for no one can disapprove of thoughts they never hear. I find my mind wandering territory I could never imagine existed until I, myself, saw it with my own mind. So now that I have been down this road, or train of thought, I find myself going again and again to search through all the roads that lead off this track.
The first two roads are simplistic, one going left and one going right. So out of pure curiosity I stop and look down both roads, though I am already certain that I would take neither of these paths. The rode to the right was well traveled and looked as if half the world had tromped through it. There was a light at the end of the road that seemed to be as bright as the sun, yet seemed either fake or too real to believe in. Farther down the road to the right there were steep steps leading up into the stars and dark sky.
I then turn back to the other road to my left and see an almost equally traveled path. This path was as full of dark shadows as the other was full of light. Though this path seemed to spiral downwards far down the path. This path to the left was much like the one to the right, though they looked so different. They both seemed too real to believe in and so transparent it must be fake. As I turn back to the way I was originally going I notice two words at the bottom of each of the paths. The word in front of the right path said ‘Good’ and the word for the left said ‘Evil’. Two simplistic words for two simple paths.
I continue down the path I was on and went passed many other paths. All these paths were as simple as the first two and were labeled just as simple. All the paths always had the same two directions, one side going left the other right. There were always the two paths, never one alone. There were ‘Betrayal’, ‘Greed’, and ‘Lies’ to the left and ‘Trust’, ‘Give’, and ‘Truth’ to the right. All the paths I had passed so far were one or the other, a clear shot to wherever the path was headed, never more complex than picking one. The paths, for the most part, were clear, no obstacles to block the goal, therefore I thought the goal must not be such a grand prize. For what could you get for no more effort than picking what you want.
As I wonder down this main path, I wonder of where this path goes, for all paths must go somewhere. Unless this one path splits, it will continue on, and as it seems now, go nowhere. Then I wonder if there will ever be any other path that I would like to take, and if I would take it.
As I continue down the path searching the others, I notice that the further I got the more complex the paths are. Not just the paths to the left and right, but my path’s terrain seems rougher to. Though my path had gotten harder, I had barely noticed. I was focused on going on, continuing my journey, and would not get discouraged by something so simply fixed with some perseverance.
The words of the paths I passed became more complex and not all of them were white and black. Then I find myself stopping at a path to the right named ‘Curiosity’, the path opposite being named ‘Tempest’. The one I faced held a mysterious air that made me want to dare enter. The path seemed to go on and on with no end. I thought of going through this path, leaving the one I had been traveling behind. But then I looked back to the way I had been going, at all the other options I would pass and all the difficulties I would have to pass to see those other choices. I turned back to face my path and realized I had been facing to the left, facing the ‘Tempest’, only thinking that the path was ‘Curiosity’. I looked at the real path to the right and saw it was named ‘Refusal’. I smiled to myself, now know I can refuse being tempted, and continued down the path I was on, wondering if I would always be on this path.
The paths became more frequent as I traveled on. There became a time where there was not a rode on each side. The first rode that did not have another was named ‘Rebellion’. The rode was on the right, but rather than going straight and up it curved until it was parallel to my path was. But then it went off to the right again and continue so far that my eyes could not see. The path was covered with obstacles that went with the word and I was tempted to stray from my path and face the challenges that came with ‘Rebellion’. I shock my head and turned around to see if I could still see the ‘Tempest’ in the distance. I could barely see, but I knew that it was there waiting for me to give in. I looked back at the ‘Rebellion’ and smiled sadly, even though I would like to go I would rather continue down my path. So I continued back down my path wishing I could travel both.
Another path caught my interest as I headed down my own. ‘Thought’. It seemed to be full of twist, turns, and complexities. I tried to follow its path with my eyes, not daring to step any closer to the path. As it swirled to the left, I examined all the different obstacles that lined the path and thought how a person could ever make it to the end. To find an answer I thought more of the word, and saw that it was more complex than I could imagine. This kind of thought, so deep and full of philosophy, could never be simple and risk free. I stepped closer to the path and was overwhelmed by the sense of responsibility, complication, and pressure. I immediately stepped back for fear of not being able to handle the pressure the air around the path. This path was not for me, for though I love all the many thoughts that exist I could not comprehend the thoughts this path lead to. Rather than ‘Thought’ it should have been named ‘Challenge’, for all the thoughts the path lead to challenged everything the common mind was built up of.
As I continue on my rode passing all the options I could take, ignoring each one of them, until I see something in the far off distance. I paused for a second unsure of my decision to move on or quickly chose a different path. The paths around me still seemed like nothing and I saw none that I would ever pick. I know that everything comes to an end eventually, but an end seemed to soon to be. I walked on mindlessly, hoping a path that I could go down would show. None did. But I knew that the path I was on was my own and it was where I should.
I reach the end of my path, never turning, and am disappointed. My journey is over and I am left with just the word at the end of my path. I turn back around and look at all the obstacles I had passed and all the other paths I refused to take and realize that the word I had found was right. I turned back to the word and bent down so I could run my hands over the letters. The word was carved in the ground with handwriting that fascinated me as much as the word did. ‘Wanderer’. Before this journey, I would have never considered the word to have much importance, but now at the end of my journey I treasure the word as if it were my own. I stand back up to look beyond the end and then carefully stepped over it. I shall continue to wander and wonder where I shall go.
Let me wander, let me roam. Do not hold me to one single path, let the options continue. Though I know I will not pick just one path and will keep wondering, let me have the option of choosing. Let me be free to pick if I change my mind, though I know I will not. Though I am fated to stay on one path and never turn, let me feel as though I have the option to change my fate. So I can feel free. If it is my will to be free and is my own idea to be free.
Death Is...
Death is like a door, it can be the ending or the beginning. If you have some thought of an after life, then the door labeled death is unlocked and you only have the choice to open it. And yet if you believe this is the only life you get the door would be locked or never even seen. Putting it this way death is simply an open and closed door, that is religiously. Either you die and move on or you die and that's it.
Death as an emotional thing is a lot more to handle though and much harder to simplify than the religious aspect. The emotions that come with death are varied and never the same. There's the rage, depression, and nothingness that can only be put in some vague category that never fully describes a persons feelings. No words can describe how one feels after a death, words can only compare and barely breach the surface or only describe one specific set of feeling.
Death as an emotional thing is a lot more to handle though and much harder to simplify than the religious aspect. The emotions that come with death are varied and never the same. There's the rage, depression, and nothingness that can only be put in some vague category that never fully describes a persons feelings. No words can describe how one feels after a death, words can only compare and barely breach the surface or only describe one specific set of feeling.
Paradox Love
“Take the pain out of love then love won’t exist,” written by ‘The Academy is…’ in their song called “Everything We Had”. This phrase is saying that because love is pain and if we take away the pain then there will be no love. It also is saying that we cannot have love without the pain that comes with it. Thinking this way this phrase must be a contradiction, because love is considered a good emotion and that if the pain were taken out there would only be good left. Due to this thinking, love still would be able to exist, making the phrase a contradiction.
The paradox in this phrase is simple, that love, in this case is like many other things, a coin. Coins are always two sided and without one side, you cannot have the other. If we follow this concept, the phrase is in no way a contradiction and is a paradox, for if we take the pain, or the back of the coin, out of love, we cannot have the other side, for what can exist without half it self. This phrase is mostly implying that love is a risk and there is always the chance that you will get hurt, which in many cases is a huge lesson for students in high school, not just love with a boy/girlfriend but also with their friends and family.
This paradox, to me, is an example of life, how nothing can be one sided when there is something to gain and lose. Knowing that there is always a risk in falling in love and then being able to still live with it is something very brave, though it would not be seen as such by some one who never thought of the risk. Because I am an open person and though I know it’s a risk I still continue to be that kind of person makes this phrase from one of my favorite bands really hit the mark.
The paradox in this phrase is simple, that love, in this case is like many other things, a coin. Coins are always two sided and without one side, you cannot have the other. If we follow this concept, the phrase is in no way a contradiction and is a paradox, for if we take the pain, or the back of the coin, out of love, we cannot have the other side, for what can exist without half it self. This phrase is mostly implying that love is a risk and there is always the chance that you will get hurt, which in many cases is a huge lesson for students in high school, not just love with a boy/girlfriend but also with their friends and family.
This paradox, to me, is an example of life, how nothing can be one sided when there is something to gain and lose. Knowing that there is always a risk in falling in love and then being able to still live with it is something very brave, though it would not be seen as such by some one who never thought of the risk. Because I am an open person and though I know it’s a risk I still continue to be that kind of person makes this phrase from one of my favorite bands really hit the mark.
Good Night
I drop down on my own soft bed that gives way with a plop. I bury my head into my smooth pillow that was some-what damp from my wet hair. I situate myself back around so that I was wrapped up in my sky blue comforter leaning against my mound of pillows that ranged from dark snow flacked fleece to blue, green, and white stripes to a pillow with no cover at all. My room was filled with the scent of lavender drifting from the small reed diffuser that sat on my paper crowded desk. I turned my attention to the small grey TV and pushed the small red button on the black remote. As the TV flickered on I was glad to hear the rough voice and tapping of wood of my favorite TV show drift to me from the speakers. The rush of hospital sounds from the show allowed my to once again enjoy the comfort and homeyness of my bed, mine and no one else's. The rough voice continued to prod my ears only stopping to pop in a small white pill while leaning against his famous flame painted cane. And then a commercial. I fumbled around to get out of my thin padded comforter that I had cocooned myself in and grabbed the dark blue cup full of my one and only life source, my mom's home made sweet tea. I relished in the sweetness of the tea that sent a rush through my teeth as I let myself relax and be truly comforted.
To Clear a Mountain
I sat in dismay upon my carpeted bedroom floor looking up grimly at my mountainous desk. I vainly hoped that the evil little gremlins, who had once stolen my Ipod and flash drive, would magically show their hidden faces and 'steal' my mountain of junk that had accumulated upon my desk. Unfortunately it was my theory that the gremlins had taken up home within my junk mountain and therefor would not bother helping me clear their home. So with a sigh I push away my childish ideals and lean forward just enough so that my fingers just tap the grey power button of my stereo that had now taken up residency under my desk.
As the stereo began to 'read' whatever CD I had played last I analyzed the smaller mountain that had begun to form on top of my stereo. This mountain was much less intimidating than the one upon my desk, more of a hill or mound rather than a real mountain that reached the clouds. As I began to go over my strategy for conquering the stereo mountain my music finally began to play it's soothing melodies. The music filled the air with soft beats of a drum, strums of a guitar, taps of piano keys, and a soothing voice that told stories in a melancholy tune.
I pulled myself under my desk and to the stereo, tactfully avoiding hitting my head on the wood of the desk. I pulled the chaotic mess into my lap, hoping the sound wouldn't cause an avalanche from the desk mountain now above and cave me in.
With the mini mountain now in my lap, somehow managing to fit without over flowing over on the floor, I began to sort through all my empty and broken CD cases, the CDs themselves now safe in my soon to be exploding CD case, that had also been stolen by the Gremlins. I picked out all the different CD cases and put them in a separate somewhat smaller pile to my right to later be thrown into the blue recycling bin.
As I continue to shift through the mound I throw away old school papers and and am left with more solid and over a pound items. On top of my soon to be gone pile was one of my many yet to be read books. The thousand page paperback book sat heavy in my lap as I flipped through the first could of pages to find my clear, almost invisible, book mark that was sitting, hidden, amongst the small print. As I began to read, yet again, I found myself once again overpowered by my lack of interest in trains to read anymore of Ayn Rand's great novel, 'Atlas Shrugged'. I slowly close the book, lost in Ayn Rand's powering words, and place it aside to later be placed on my already over crowded bookshelf and went back to my depleted mountain.
The last thing laying in my now empty lap was my black spiral notebook that had been so carelessly placed on my stereo only to be buried by a mountain. The notebook was full of similar beginnings that I was constantly re-writing. The story brought back memories of when I had written it and where I had planned to take the story. I slowly pulled out the clear, plastic drawer to my right and carefully placed the note book in the already overcrowded drawer.
With a some what boosted ego I got out from under my desk and came eye to eye with the foot of the most horrid mountain I could ever face. Books were scattered between school papers and journals and more papers. Towers of stacked 'things' seemed to touch my white ceiling and stood tall over me from the ground. The papers seemed to cover my desk like grass covers the Earth or like lava flowing from a volcano.
As the mountain seemed to grow my confidence seemed to shrink, or to be more precise my laziness grew. My goal had truly only been to 'face' a mountain, so what was the problem if the mountain I actually did face was smaller than what I may have originally intended? I would just save the real mountain for another day, and maybe then I would get to use a bull dosser on it.
As the stereo began to 'read' whatever CD I had played last I analyzed the smaller mountain that had begun to form on top of my stereo. This mountain was much less intimidating than the one upon my desk, more of a hill or mound rather than a real mountain that reached the clouds. As I began to go over my strategy for conquering the stereo mountain my music finally began to play it's soothing melodies. The music filled the air with soft beats of a drum, strums of a guitar, taps of piano keys, and a soothing voice that told stories in a melancholy tune.
I pulled myself under my desk and to the stereo, tactfully avoiding hitting my head on the wood of the desk. I pulled the chaotic mess into my lap, hoping the sound wouldn't cause an avalanche from the desk mountain now above and cave me in.
With the mini mountain now in my lap, somehow managing to fit without over flowing over on the floor, I began to sort through all my empty and broken CD cases, the CDs themselves now safe in my soon to be exploding CD case, that had also been stolen by the Gremlins. I picked out all the different CD cases and put them in a separate somewhat smaller pile to my right to later be thrown into the blue recycling bin.
As I continue to shift through the mound I throw away old school papers and and am left with more solid and over a pound items. On top of my soon to be gone pile was one of my many yet to be read books. The thousand page paperback book sat heavy in my lap as I flipped through the first could of pages to find my clear, almost invisible, book mark that was sitting, hidden, amongst the small print. As I began to read, yet again, I found myself once again overpowered by my lack of interest in trains to read anymore of Ayn Rand's great novel, 'Atlas Shrugged'. I slowly close the book, lost in Ayn Rand's powering words, and place it aside to later be placed on my already over crowded bookshelf and went back to my depleted mountain.
The last thing laying in my now empty lap was my black spiral notebook that had been so carelessly placed on my stereo only to be buried by a mountain. The notebook was full of similar beginnings that I was constantly re-writing. The story brought back memories of when I had written it and where I had planned to take the story. I slowly pulled out the clear, plastic drawer to my right and carefully placed the note book in the already overcrowded drawer.
With a some what boosted ego I got out from under my desk and came eye to eye with the foot of the most horrid mountain I could ever face. Books were scattered between school papers and journals and more papers. Towers of stacked 'things' seemed to touch my white ceiling and stood tall over me from the ground. The papers seemed to cover my desk like grass covers the Earth or like lava flowing from a volcano.
As the mountain seemed to grow my confidence seemed to shrink, or to be more precise my laziness grew. My goal had truly only been to 'face' a mountain, so what was the problem if the mountain I actually did face was smaller than what I may have originally intended? I would just save the real mountain for another day, and maybe then I would get to use a bull dosser on it.
5/13/09
Blink
Working on any class project can go two ways, either things go by slowly and tortuously or go by in the blink of an eye. This was one of those projects that went both ways. Some papers were easy to write and flew off the tongue as swiftly and gently as water flows down a waterfall. Yet with other required writing the words seemed forced and unappealing. While putting the whole thing together I enjoyed the ability to express myself and the whole process didn't feel as forced as other things have been.
Enjoying myself is probably the most important thing that I could do with my portfolio. Now it shall forever be imprinted on the web, there for me to never forget.
I named my whole portfolio Thinking to Write because no matter what I am writing I think about it first. Especially with required writing I make sure I feel what I'm writing. The title came to me on a whim, blown to by the air and into my head.
My favorite writing in Thinking to Write is Thoughts of a Wanderer. Mainly because it was more or less written on a whim. I feel as if it is a personal essay that truly describes me even if it is in my own fictional world. When a writing assignment comes along that is as easy to write as my personal essay I relish in my work. Thoughts of a Wanderer is different from all the other essays because it sounds more like my raw thoughts rather than my thoughts after being processed or put through someone else.
Of all my pieces I think that all of them could use a good revision. I have written stories a million times and the next time I look at them they go from clean typed paper to typed paper with cross outs and extra notes. As a writer I don't think you can ever completely describe a person or character or scene enough, and not adding extra stuff is like House, from House MD, from solve a puzzle.
If anything is noticed in this portfolio I think it should be the fun I had with it. Making a blog can be extremely frustrating or extremely fun, depending on your relationship with with machines. Making a blog is one of the things that I have always had fun with because its like your own website you can control for free.
The writing I would read to my fellow classmates would be Thoughts of a Wanderer because it is the one I am most proud of and would be able to read with care and without stopping and laughing about how ridiculous I sound.
Enjoying myself is probably the most important thing that I could do with my portfolio. Now it shall forever be imprinted on the web, there for me to never forget.
I named my whole portfolio Thinking to Write because no matter what I am writing I think about it first. Especially with required writing I make sure I feel what I'm writing. The title came to me on a whim, blown to by the air and into my head.
My favorite writing in Thinking to Write is Thoughts of a Wanderer. Mainly because it was more or less written on a whim. I feel as if it is a personal essay that truly describes me even if it is in my own fictional world. When a writing assignment comes along that is as easy to write as my personal essay I relish in my work. Thoughts of a Wanderer is different from all the other essays because it sounds more like my raw thoughts rather than my thoughts after being processed or put through someone else.
Of all my pieces I think that all of them could use a good revision. I have written stories a million times and the next time I look at them they go from clean typed paper to typed paper with cross outs and extra notes. As a writer I don't think you can ever completely describe a person or character or scene enough, and not adding extra stuff is like House, from House MD, from solve a puzzle.
If anything is noticed in this portfolio I think it should be the fun I had with it. Making a blog can be extremely frustrating or extremely fun, depending on your relationship with with machines. Making a blog is one of the things that I have always had fun with because its like your own website you can control for free.
The writing I would read to my fellow classmates would be Thoughts of a Wanderer because it is the one I am most proud of and would be able to read with care and without stopping and laughing about how ridiculous I sound.
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