Final Reflection

1. a few things that i enjoyed doing this quater were the window poem, writing poems about make believe people with other peoples ideas in class, the i am poems and learning about how to express ourselves though writing. i enjoyed the i am peom because it was fun and easy to do. it helps us reflect on ourselves and try to describe what you see and what other people might see.
2.i have read this quater:
50 shades of grey: poorly written and very choppy in flow
cats i am poem: it was very descriptive and i thought it captured her personality very well
bradons poems: they are very creative and he seems to write in one distinct voice. i wish he would post on blogger more.
3. after setting up my blog waiting for help and fixing everything to how i wanted it i learned alot. i realised that writing can be fun and even help expand our way of thinking. i came up with a name for my blog by realising how fast time flys. even in this class. which has gone by really fast, i have realised that it does indeed become yesterday before we know it. i dont think anyone really read my blog, but that is okay. i didnt put it up here for other people i put it up here not only for a grade but for myself to see and admire. to see how much ive grown. if i could have anyone see it though id probably have my boyfriend see it. to have him realise how much i do care and how much i speak about him in my writing. i may actually use this blog in the future it is very fun to post on and to read other peoples post. perhaps ill post on it this summer talking about my trip to france.
4. for me journaling was easy. sitting down and writing what the teacher said, a piece of cake. fopr me direct assignments come easy and fast but when i have to free write. thats were i get stuck. ium not so good with drawling or writing something new. sure im creative i can give things a certain twist but i never was really good at being completely original i take things from things i watch or see. i like to twist things, blend them, melt them togewther into a new piece. you could say i like to recycle.alot of things in my journal are just tat. recycled. things i've heard or felt in the past. things i think or thought or what i believe other people are thinking. i dont think i really want anyone to read my journal. i have no desire to share it with anyone. i would like to keep journaling though i dont think ill ever find time for it. i do want to keep up with my thoughts. though i hate reading about some of the things i wrote. i feel like they were lies some how because my feelings change over time and i feel i should blend them into my current thinking which i know isnt right.
5.an entry i believe is notable is "hurt" a poem i wrote on my own;
he's angry
no one understands what he thinking
his mother cant understand his obsession

the black slick metal,solid, and sure,
reminds him,free's him,

he wants to be alone with it,
with his obsession.
he wants to be alone,
with himself.

aorund her though,
he keeps the safety button on,
never shooting his emotions,
never aiming his thoughts,

this is why he is angry,
this is why he is frustrated
this is why he misfires,
and this is why he breaks her heart.

6.She grew up on the side of the road where the wild flowers grow. her long dark hair flowed gracefully down her back and tickled the back of her legs. sun kissed her cheeks when she layed alone in the field. staring hopelessly at the never ending light blue sky. the wind wirled around her covering her with the sent of sweet grass. stains covered her baby pink dress, grounding her. this was the place she spent most of her time. trying to remember herself. to find herself. just as the sun touched the horizon giving it one last hug goodbye. she rolled over onto her stomach and closed her eyes. stretching out her arms she embrassed the ground and gave the field a hug goodnight. she rose from her spot in the field and it playfully licked her feet as she ran inside her humble farm house. she grew old here in the house by the field. she wrote here, endless romance novels and poems. she never loved here though, no man could ever replace her love for that field and open sky, no man could incase her imagination when all she ever wanted to do was fly. She would die here. under the deep never ending sky. with her glasses hanging loosly from a himp chain around her neck. her dark hair pinned up tight and falling into her face. her pink stained dress stained and tangled around her legs. with the field kissing her with ever breeze and holding her as she would leave. there she lay still and cold as the sun held her close and said goodnight. the field then took her. kept her and loved her into it. never letting her beautiful body disinigrate. they took her body and soul and named her mother. she loved the earth mor ethan the world could ever know and fell inlove that day....she walked in the field.

7.some creative writing i plan to do in the future is free write poems and fiction stories. i get alot of peace out of creative writing i find it calming just to tap on a keyboard and allow my thoughts to flow. i ten to not get distracted this way. This writing is different in the way that it doesnt need a direct outline. i dont have to write a certain way or say certain things like in a research paper. it allows me freedom and lets me think.
8.i really did enjoy reading poems from everyone i think they are one of the best ways to express yourselves and i think everyones i am poems really did the job. i think everyone in this class has great potential to write and should continue to do so. wether they try very little or try really hard in this class i think everyone has the writing ability.
9.
I love you much (Parker)
More than the moon loves the sky,
the dog loves its bone,
and the cat loves warm milk.
if you love me
hold me like a butterfly, warm and close,
kiss me, soft and sweet, like summer,
and keep me never, leave,
dream,
of me,-
----as i, dream,
of you

Dan in real life

3 tips i would give parents is one space is key. teenagers hate to be smothered and constantly worried over. a too strict of a parent can actually have the opposite affect. Two strict but not prison guard. give them some freedom let them know you trust them. saying your disappointed in them bothers them more than you might think. 3 loving but not smothering. let them know you love them but never make them feel as though they HAVE to love you back. allow them to want to do things with the family instead of being forced to do so.

i think you can know you love someone in three days’ think love is not just butterflies, or time, or even how long you've known someone. i believe that we are born for someone. i think that god has planned out a person for us to be with and that it is our journey to find them. i think that when someone does find that one person it can either take them awhile to realize it or they can figure it out rather quickly.

no i am not a good bowler. i think i was one when i was younger because i did it alot and we always had the bumpers up but now a days i believe i am terrible. by the end of the bowling i am usually doing silly dance moves up to the throwing of the ball. in the end though bowling tends to be very fun and entertaining when done with a bunch of good friends. i think bowling dates are even fun though i am really terrible. i think its cute when guys try to help you be better and to even possibly kind rub it in that your winning just to mess with them.

for someone to be a "hottie" to me they have to have the personality. if they just have the looks then i think they are alright. for me they have to have a good personality if im going to stay with them for a long time. alot of the time for me i like someone because they have a pretty face but they end up being pretty dumb. in reality not all the "pretty faced guys" are really that attractive to me. i like a guy who can have an intelligent conversation with me and not be afraid or intimidated because i am very book smart. to be a "hottie" i do like them to have strong arms, good hair and abs. but doesn’t every girl?

Two pictures

I am...
sore calased hands dirty from work,
seven kidsa all poor, and sad as i,
the same seaon all year,
tired,sadbroken,
years of labor in a week,
broken shoes and aching feet,
learned by my peers and learning others,
short dry hair oiled with sweat,
a long working skirt that stops at the ankles,
starved for knowledge,
plump with food,
alone when surrounded,
a holy bible on sunday,
muddy fields and ripe apples,
a bird always flying south.

Berlin wall

to be divided
seperate, dislocated, from ordinaray,
changed, split, torn away from yesterday.
to see it break,
burn, fall, into ashes,
changed, combined, reunited with yesterday,
joy happiness, renewal overwelms you,
it brings you back to yourself again,
but also to new possibilites,
to break it,
is the best day of my life.

Preferences in Movies

My favorite movie is tangled by disney because it is so funny and romantic at the same time.


Movies i dont usually care for are ones were the main character dies in the end. i think it ruins the whole story and doesn;t give the watcher any hope for them. i think the best part of a movie is cheering on the main character.

I usually watch movies about 10-12 times a month. most of the time it is at home but when i can i like to go to the threater and watch it on the big screen.


When i watch a movie i need silence. i also need a warm blanket and yummy food like popcorn and sourpatch kids. i love also having rootbeer when i watch movies just because its my favorite.

This survery really says i dont need someone to watch a movie with i can watch it on my own in my own room its just more exciting to watch it with other people. i also think it says that i love snacking when watching movies which is not a good habit.

if my life was made into a movie i think it would be very dramatic and that it wouldnt get very good reviews. i think someones life has to be pretty interesting to make a good movie.

This is a solider

this is a solider,

young and brave,

ready for war and all its caous

curious and scared for the battlefield

strong and sturdy for the ones at home,

this is pride,

staring death in the face and taunting it,

daringly prepared for what lies ahead,

the softest bit of a smirk on his lips 

Loving him...

she cries desperately,
trying to make him see.
he doesnt.
she holds on tightly trying to pull through,
he lets go,

she begs, she pleads,
he ignores her,
everyday she trys hard for him
he hates it

everyday she trys to embrace him
he pushes her away

days in and out he breaks her heart,
still she tries

never letting go,
holding on tight
begging, pleading, praying,
for a way to say goodbye....

...but she loves him

Hurt

Hes' angry,
no one understands his thinking,
his mother can't understand his obsession,

the black slick metal, solid, and sure,
reminds him, free's him,

He wants to be alone with it,
his obsession,
he wants to be alone,
with himself.

This thing, dark and dangerous,
describes him,
through this he speaks, he screams,

around her though,
he keeps the safety button on,
never shooting his emotions,
never aiming his thoughts,

this is why he is angry,
this is why he is frustrated,
this is why he misfires,
and this is why he breaks her heart,

Window Poem

Rows and rows of houses,
sitting neatly side by side,
short percisely cut trees,
standing awkwardly,
in flat open yards,

a long road that runs,

into a another,

street of houses,

shes late,

walking her dog

up the hill today,

the sun plays,
at the horizon kissing it,
as it passes higher,

a tall tree,

stands proudly,

away from these houses,

and guards them,

long dark branchs
lay out across the sky,

sweet bushes tucked in tightly,

holding the houses together,

yards filled with toys,
showing the presence of children
rocking chairs on back decks,

desplaying the arrival of elders.

The field

She grew up on the side of the road where the wild flowers grow. her long dark hair flowed gracefully down her back and tickled the back of her legs. sun kissed her cheeks when she layed alone in the field. staring hopelessly at the never ending light blue sky. the wind wirled around her covering her with the sent of sweet grass. stains covered her baby pink dress, grounding her. this was the place she spent most of her time. trying to remember herself. to find herself. just as the sun touched the horizon giving it one last hug goodbye. she rolled over onto her stomach and closed her eyes. stretching out her arms she embrassed the ground and gave the field a hug goodnight. she rose from her spot in the field and it playfully licked her feet as she ran inside her humble farm house. she grew old here in the house by the field. she wrote here, endless romance novels and poems. she never loved here though, no man could ever replace her love for that field and open sky, no man could incase her imagination when all she ever wanted to do was fly. She would die here. under the deep never ending sky. with her glasses hanging loosly from a himp chain around her neck. her dark hair pinned up tight and falling into her face. her pink stained dress stained and tangled around her legs. with the field kissing her with ever breeze and holding her as she would leave. there she lay still and cold as the sun held her close and said goodnight. the field then took her. kept her and loved her into it. never letting her beautiful body disinigrate. they took her body and soul and named her mother. she loved the earth mor ethan the world could ever know and fell inlove that day....she walked in the field.





the field

She grew up
 on the side of the road
where the wild flowers grow.
 her long dark hair flowed
gracefully down her back
and tickled the back of her legs.

 sun kissed her cheeks
 when she layed alone in the field.
staring hopelessly
at the never ending light blue sky.
the wind wirled around her
covering her with the sent of sweet grass.
 stains covered her baby pink dress,
grounding her.

 this was the place
she spent most of her time.
trying to remember herself.
 to find herself.

just as the sun touched the horizon
giving it one last hug goodbye.
she rolled over onto her stomach
 and closed her eyes.

stretching out her arms
she embrassed the ground
and gave the field a hug goodnight.
she rose from her spot in the field
 and it playfully licked her feet
 as she ran inside her humble farm house.

 she grew old here in the house by the field.
 she wrote here, endless romance novels and poems.
 she never loved here though,
 no man could ever replace her love
for that field and open sky, no man
 could incase her imagination
when all she ever wanted to do was fly.

 She would die here.
under the deep never ending sky.
with her glasses hanging loosly
from a himp chain around her neck.
her dark hair pinned up tight
and falling into her face.
 her pink stained dress stained
and tangled around her legs.

with the field kissing her with ever breeze
 and holding her as she would leave.
 there she lay still and cold
as the sun held her close and said goodnight.

 the field then took her.
 kept her and loved her into it.
never letting her beautiful body disinigrate
. they took her body and soul
and named her mother.

she loved the earth
more than the world
could ever know and fell inlove
 that day with the field.

Purple rows

Purple is the color of royalty. perhaps that is why the king ordered all the flowers in the land to be purple. or maybe it was because of the admireration the purple color caused. did he want all the kingdoms to loath their own and yearn for ours?

the king thirsted for this, he longed to have the best kingdom in all the land. he ordered that all the flowers be ripped from the ground and purple carnashions be planted in their place. very few purple flowers exsisted in the kingdom until this day. now hundreds of flowers are kept in rows and rows lined perfectly paralell to the boarders of the kindom. the line for the boarding kingdoms are now drawn with purple flowers. rows and rows of them. yet with all the "royalty" it brings us the birds hate the flowers. bees ignore them and they die off every year. soon we shall be the kingdom with nothing but purple soil.

Idioms i Find amusing/ Idiom poem

A blessing in disguise
a dime a dozen
a slap on the wrist
a toss-up

________________________________

He was a blessing in disguise,
a dime a dozen,
he was always against the clock,
and would give an arm and a leg for his love.

i know i shouldn't beat a dead horse,
but his whole life was a toss-up,
he would bend over backwards,
but never bite his tounge,

with blood thicker than water,
he was a dead ringer to a god,
i know this seems like a cock and bull story,
but boy was he a doozy!

--------------------------------------------

e. e. cummings

I love you much (Parker)
More than the moon loves the sky,
the dog loves its bone,
and the cat loves warm milk.
if you love me
hold me like a butterfly, warm and close,
kiss me, soft and sweet, like summer,
and keep me never, leave,
dream,
of me,-
----as i, dream,
of you

My Eulogy

"She was young and spirited. She tried hard at everything she did, and was creative. She loved to sing, and act. People loved spending time with her, and she will be missed."

The coffin closes,

eyes shut never to be opened again,

6 feet down, she escapes,

6 feet up, people break,

the book is closed, people disperce,

one mother stands,

her daughter under her foot.

three creative poems

melissa

shy, loud, honest, hardworking,

i am a sibling of scott deal,

my bestfriend is a lover of books, animals, and spending time together,

i feel hungry, tired, and confussed,

my sibling needs a real job,

i give insight through art,

my parents fear household drainage, bad health and bad friends,

i would like to see you in bed,

my favorite place to be is in my bed staring at my ceiling,

mathis

Paige

tall, blonde, loud, energetic,

i am a sibling of mitch smith

my bestfriend is a lover of drama, swimming, and rap

i feel happy, sore, and skinny,

my sibling needs a job

i give good hugs, and presents,

my parents fear the apocolypse, obama and gun control

i would like to be out of school

my favorite place to be is the lake

smith

Parker

tall, strong, skinny, tan

i am a sibling of jordan mathis

my best friend is a lover of crossfit, airsoft, and dirtbikes

i feel happy, tired and bored

my sibling is crazy

i give good kisses hugs and presents

my parents fear obama, gun control and gas prices

i would like to be home in bed

my favorite place to be is on the loop (my dirtbike trail)

mathis

Responce to the play

I enjoy things that are different and out of the ordinary. i think the riot in that musical was unnessisary. i think many people are very narrow minded and need to open up to new ideas, thoughts and feelings. i think people can learn more from countercultural things. Different things than we are used to cause us to think more and process the information differently. i think that with new things comes new ideas. if we all stayed with stuff we already knew then nothing would ever be created.

Ask a teacher

What music or songs reminds you of your childhood?
Jody Bilyeu said " music from Disney's Bambi reminds me of my childhood, particularly "April showers"-the clarinet part at the beginning.
I said: "Country songs remind me of my childhood. i grew up with that style of music."

Whos is your favorite singer or group or song and why?
Jody Bilyeu said: : i don't have favorites very often, but i do like Lucinda Williams very much. I think she's a beautiful, authentic singer and that she writes and chooses great, very real songs."
I said: "my favorite song at the momment is "put your records on". it helps me to think and to just let go of my everyday life."

what music reminds you of someone you love? your child? your spouse? parents?
Jody Bilyeu said: " Adele reminds me of Ruby, my little girl. She wants to be Adele"
i said: " the song  " i love you 5" by never shout never really reminds me of my boyfriend parker. It makes me feel very happy."

Do you go to concerts? Which concerts are memorable to you? why?
Jody bilyeu said: "i do go to concerts. i remember best the concerts i enjoy with good friends."
i said: " no, i've never really gone to a concert before to watch a band play"

What radio stations do you normally listen to in your car? do you sing along?
Steve Steibhaus said: " i normally listen to ESPN and WYND, but yes i usually do sing along."
i said: " i listen to alot of radio stations such as ; 95.5 and 92.9. i also love to sing along to songs on the radio."

which music or artist was "controversal" or "offensive" to some when you were growing up? is any music offensive to you now?
Steve Steinhaus said: "heavy metal and grudge music was very offensive when i was growing up and it is still offensive to me now."
i said: " rap was very offensive when i was growing up but i never really disliked it."

Sweet Quotes

Music and Writing

If i listen to an up beat song it tends to make me happier. yet when I'm sad i only want to listen to sad music. i think music can really affect how we feel and vise verse ( how we feel can affect the music we choose to listen to). My taste in music has broadened over the years. i think I've become more open minded on the kind of music i want to listen to. i STILL hate old rock music though I've come to tolerate some songs. without music i think the world would be a very dull place. people would have one less way to express themselves. there wouldn't be humming or lullaby's. it would be so boring! without music my life would be harder. i use music to heal and i think it really does help. i think music helps us deal with and understand our problems. i think its also kind of our wake up call when we need it. i think music can relate to anyone and help everyone and thats most likely one of the reasons most people enjoy music. Music does something for me that others cant and that is make me feel calm. i get scared often and when i do i tend to sing. singing helps keep my mind off of it and helps me to feel more safe. i would love to sing perfessionally but i am very stage fright and cant afford singing lessons anymore. which is disappointing i would love to get back on a stage again. me and my friends have very different tastes in music and i think this is because we come from very different backgrounds. i think how you grew up really changes ur taste in music. for instance if you grew up with a metal head then you would most likely listen to that same kind of music. i grew up with country music lovers and i think that gave me a chance to really appriciate other kinds of music as well.

Famous lines from a famous book

"I write this sitting in the kitchen sink"
this line is from the novel " I capture the Castle" which was published in 1998 by the author Dodie Smith who lived from 1896 to 1990. This author is also known for other works including " The hundred and one Dalmatians" and "the Starlight Barking".

I capture the castle is about a seventeen year old girl named Cassandra. she lives in poverty inside the castle walls and the book goes through her, writing in her diary, many interesting funny entries which talk about her first true love and how things change within the walls.

What many critics didn't like about the book is that it was more for the younger adults rather than the older. the speaker in the story is too young to realize the trouble shes in and it often made the older readers worry for her and sometimes even fall out of the story.

Personally i would like to read this book just because I'm really into the old time stories and castles. i love reading about someones life in a castle and often find myself writing things about medieval times and dragons. i may not like it though because of what many reviewers said, she is too young to understand the trouble she gets into.

"Columbus too thought he was a flop, probably, when they sent him back in chains. which didn't prove there was no America."

This line is fromt he novel "The Adventures of Augie March", which was publiched in the year 1953 by the author Saul Bellow who lived from 1915 to 2005. This author is also known for other works, including "Herzog" and "The Actual".

The book "The Adventures of Augie March" is about a young boy who grows up in the great depression. this book follows him from a child to manhood. it also explains many of the stuggles he faced and his working life.

What many critics like about the book most is how it ended. they really enjoyed how it did not really have a definite ending. with him finding himself or not finding himself but really left both options open and plausable. This left the readers wondering and kept them thinking about the book.

I personally dont think i would want to read this book. i do not really enjoy reading books from a guys point of view. i have a harder time trying to relate to the story when there is a male speaker. I do believe though that it would be a great book choice for a young man interested in history.

the pearl man

He was born in the pink pearl inside my necklace. he was small and fragile with lips soft and supple. He broke the pearl, hatching from my necklace and layed naked on my breast. his hair, long and gold, covered his small pale body. Being the size of my thumb he crawled from my chest between two large mountains and fell into a dark whole in the middle of open land. i found him there that morning. a small golden creature stuck inside my belly button. at first it scared me. the creature so strange and mysterious. but as i plucked him from the whole he turned out to be rather beautiful. i held him then, gently in my hand. he seemed warn out from a long night of struggle trying to free himself from the depths of my belly button.his eyes were shut lightly. his lashes played sweetly at his cheeks and his lips were barely parted. i caressed the small man in my hand and played with his long of human like hair. he was like a very small man and i couldn't have come up with a man better looking than the one asleep on my hand. i rolled him over in my hand gently to wake him. his eyes opened ubruptly and he shot to his feet. "who are you" his words were angelic and soft. "the owner of the pearl" the little man then kneeled with his head to his knee and gestured widely " i am at your service my lady". the little man, born from the pearl my grandmother had given me. Now pledged his alligence to me. when i was little my grandmother used to tell be stories of the man born from a pearl. she said once" when the little man aries from his shell, it is time; he will save you from hell". after 12 years of war and violence finally the man has been born. now he stands in my hand proud and strong to protect me from the demons. outside they waited for me. to need food, to need light, to need anything outside of these four walls. everyday they waited to kill me, and now today i have my warior now i have my savior, my life line, my way out.

            He jumped out of my palm and onto my bed asking for commands. “ what shall you have me do my lady?”. “ I want you to save me” I explained “im trapped in this small no window room and can’t leave without utter parel” the man then jumped from my bed and ran to the locked door. “ then release me, my lady and I shall slay the demons and give you freedom”. The door was bolted 5 times and chained twice. I haven’t unlocked it since I was 10 and still to this day never understand why  the little man did it.  He cut all the locks free and ran through the now open door into the darkness. Demons screams could be heard through the door and I felt alone. The demons had grown on me. Brought me comfort in knowing I wasn’t alone. That’s when I found out they were my friends. They challenged me to surivie to be different to become someone stronger. And now. They were gone, along with my little man and pearl necklace.

a passage from the hunger games

"To the everlasting credit of the people of district 12, not one person claps. Not even the ones holding the betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring. Possibly because they knew me from the hob, or knew my father, or have encountered Prim, who no one can help loving. So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.
Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of district 12 as a place that cares about me. But a shift has occurred since I stepped up to take Prim's place, and now it seems I have become someone precious. At first one, then another, then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me. It is and old and rarely used gesture of our district, and occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love."

This passage is meaning full because this is right when Katniss gets on stage. this is after she volunteers as tribute and when you realize she just laid down her life for her sister. This is possibly one of the most touching moments when the people of district 12 solute her.  this is also important to me because it really puts a lot of background meaning to the story. this also foreshadows how district 12 will treat her during the games.

Writers as readers

When I read I just need a comfy place that I can sit for awhile. If I get stuck on a very uncomfortable place then I find it harder to read and concentrate on the story. I usually don’t eat when I read, I find it actually distracts me. I tend to avoid all the people all noise and all food when reading. In a way it’s a good dieting thing ;)

Romance really interests me because its so complicated and can, at times, be a mystery. I love the suspense that romance has and I also love that most writers tend to add in action in romance novels to keep it suspenseful.

My writing style is most like Diana Gabaldon. I do sometimes purposely imitate her and at other times I try to avoid werewolves and vampires. I really have no interest in the mainstream themes like that. I really have more interest in fairies. I think they are way more mystical and interesting than “Edward Cullen”.

One of my best memories is crying at the end of the book I was reading and looking at the clock and realizing it was 5 am. There is nothing better than knowing you had the strength to push through your tiredness to finish a great book. I for the life of me cannot remember which book this was because I did this many times. All I will remember though is that it was my first all nighters with a book involved.

My first reading teacher was Mrs.W. I never actually learned to read though until the end of first grade. I used to fake read and just glance at books pages and flip them now and then during reading time. I fell in love with reading my 8^th grade year after reading “Out Lander” which was a book my mom said I couldn’t read because I didn’t have the reading level for it. I took this as a challenge, did it, and loved it. Since then I love reading.

I want to always remember....

I want to always remember Parker Mathis. Our first kiss in the hotel of terror behind a curtain, in the dark; possibly the sweetest, awkward, kiss, fumbling in the dark trying to find each others’ faces. Our first date, me parker, Jordan and Bri at china king, and then they came back to my house. He kissed me in the office then. Bri left her keys in Jordan’s car and I had to drive with her all the way back to Ozark to get them. Their mom was NOT happy about that. Our first Christmas, he got me a pillow pet, necklace and candy. Our second anniversary he got me a ring which made me cry for joy. The first time he said he has fallen in love with me. When we wrestled and I kicked one of his brackets loose. The first time he let me barrow his jacket. The first time he started my car for me in the cold. His growth sprit and the first time his voice cracked; we were playing gestures with his mom and brother. We laughed so hard at him! He keeps growing taller and we’re constantly comparing hand sizes and our height difference. I never want to forget why I love him.

A dreamers Story

     

    One reoccuring dream i have is one where my boyfriend leaves me. he laughs when is say i love him and even goes so far as to insult me and put me down. this dream is also the worst dream ive had. i tend to wake up scared that he really has left me and he has to reassure me that he hasnt.
        the best dream ive ever had happend resently. in my dream my mom promised me i could have my cat again he just had to live in her ink work shop. this made me happy because resently outside of the drea world i had my cat of 6 years given away to a different family. its also the best dream because it allowed me to be happy for awhile. even for a short while to have my cat back made me very happy.
  I think real life worries hopes and fears cause dreams. i think our brain creates dreas out of what we want most and what we fear the most. i fear rejection and heart break the most which is why i have such sad dreams. i also get very stressed easily and when i do the dreams of sadness tend to occur more often. i think everythign people say or do can affect how we think and see things and therefore affects our dreams.
       the books ive read have never really talked about dreaming. except one which was very short and not too descriptive. a book i have read which was created because of a dream was twilight and it just amazes me that she could have dreampt that whole story and all the drama of it.
      I think dreams are not very symbolic but more of a wake up call. that you need to either calm down and relax or maybe your letting life go by without really trying at anything. i personally think that when i have a sad dream that my relationship or whatever its about is going okay.
    Im not quite sure about astratravel. i have no real strong belief of disbelief in it because i haven't read or heard enough about it. in all honesty i think it may just be a dream inside a dream.
    as far as dreams go my mind tends to make them very dramatic and drawn out. i have the ability to fall back into an old dream and continue it even if i wake up and then go back to sleep. unfortunately that means nightmares may continue too. which has happend quite a few times.

Maya Angelou

          I think talking about bad dreams does give them power. as well as bad things like drama. many times drama gets power when people talk about it. Like drama dreams can get power from talking about them. talking about them requires your brain to remember the dream and further torture you with the memory of it. so i completely understand why Maya said she didn't wanna talk about her bad dreams.
          I love to play "words with friends" to occupy my "little mind" just like Maya played solitaire to occupy her "little mind". my biggest distractions when i need to get work done is actually myself. i think too much on what i need to get done the next day or what I'm really worried about. i also tend to day dream in the middle of my work instead of doing something you it may actually be far from the fact of what really happened.productive. another thing i do to occupy my little mind is play word search. i love to beat my old times and try and find words quicker. i also love doing puzzles and can usually do them rather quickly.
            I believe you can still learn after 25 it just becomes harder for the brain to pick up on things like it did when you were younger. your brain eventually turns down the signal to learn and adapt. when your younger you tend to pick up on things quicker because that is when your brain is growing the most. at 25 it is said to have completed growing. i also believe you are more intelligent when you are older because you can rationalize things easier.
            Maya said the reason the caged bird sings is because it wants out. its yelling for help. i understand what she is saying when she says its screaming for help not singing for our enjoyment. birds tend to get nervous and jittery when they are kept in a cage for too long. that is because birds were born to fly not sit and sing for us. us as humans are also born to "fly" we need to experience new things understand new concepts and come to realize our true selves before we can finally stop "singing".
           I think Maya means when she says" there's a world of difference between truth and fact" is that what you believe is the truth and the fact is what really did happen. i agree with this in terms of rumors. say one girl says that she did something wrong when in all reality she did not but her friend believes it to be the truth. hence the world of difference though it may be true to

I can't Ever save Her

         I can't ever save her.
she's constantly drug in by him. His voice, over powering, and smooth like molasces.
He keeps her locked away kept a secret from the world in  that dark, cold, house of his.
The house left in crowded woods hides her. HIdes the pain.
 I tried once, to help her, to get her help. She refused.
 He is like an evil soul, downing her, barrying her.
She's been held hostage by him for 12 years now and it's gotten worse.
Everything you try to do to keep her away she just goes back to him.
Heroine is his name; he is dark, and absorbs light so you can never get a good look, and you can never get away. 

Going through changes

When do we change so much?

At what point do we stop being children and become adults? We all know about adolescence and physical changes but what is really happening in that time? Why are we so different today then we were yesterday? Just one day can change us so much and shape us completely different.

            Why do we stop thinking like we used to and change our point of view completely one day? When do we exactly decide to be rational thinkers? Many of us, all of us, are changing every day. Becoming something, someone, new. Every day I see people changing. Everything. Changing. Is this what you call time? Does time change us? Or do other people change us? Do we all really have to change? Is that part of our growth? Will it push us all together in the end or pull us apart. What happens when you love someone now but they change to someone different tomorrow. What then? Is change still a good thing? Or is it in reality…scary. Young girls changing into mothers. A family of five suddenly becoming a family of one because of a sudden accident. When does it all change? Our hair. Smiles. Likes. Dislikes. Does anyone really know the exact moment we become something, someone, different?

I am...

I am…

…Two fevered secures and scared forehead,

     …Bruised Knees and cut elbows from falling down too much,

         …Straight teethe and blonde hair from years of braces and hair dye,

             …Those sad lonely moments from years of struggling with depression

                    …a cherry red 2001 Volkswagen beetle with hello kitty floor mats and a failing door                                                           handle from a fallout summer love,

                       …Sweet and sour chicken from china king where they know my order,

                             … long romance novels on a rainy day,

                                …someone who hates the snow and winter because of the chapped lips and, icy roads,

                                  …fake nails and pretty dresses,

                             …a hopeless lover who tries too hard to be perfect,

                       …a crazy actress and shy timid singer,

                  …a warm Xbox on late summer nights from playing too much for too long,

             …hot sugar cookies from cooking explorations with parker,

         …the chicken over taco’s any day girl,

     …the girly chick music you hear on the radio every day,

    …an Indian mural painted on Cherokees’ gym wall,

..Years of various claw marks from different cats,