Exaggerated college application

Every day I decide the weather. Every day I have tea with god.  Every day I meet with the deceased. Every day I am worshipped.

I save a minimum of 10 puppies per hour. I have given myself brain surgery multiple times. I gave US president Barack Obama his authority. I have won the last three arguments with my mother. I exhale oxygen. I taught my English teacher how to punctuate. When I was four years old, I put Chuck Norris in the hospital. I am older than Jeanne Louise Calment. Last month I beat Hank Chien’s record in Donkey Kong. I taught my dad his first word. I conqured the Titan IQ test and finshed with an unbelievable unbeatable score. I dont urinate.

I wrote the first 10 languages. I am faster than Usain Bolt. I murdered Hitler.  My peers envy me.  My parents wish to clone me.  My siblings adore me. My brilliance has made me famous. My brilliance has made me the most successful female of the decade.  My brilliance has enlightened the lives of hospital patients. I don’t sleep.

I make Alzheimer victims remember. I can make cupid fall in love. My existence cures cancer. My existence prevents war. My existence is the reason behind world peace. I save lives. My second cousin is Buddha. I bake cakes ten times better than Buddy Valastro. I’ve won a taste test against Gordon Ramsey. I purchased Dragon's Den.
 
I have done amazing things and become an increible individual but have not gone to college.

                                                                                                            The unavoidable

My thoughts begin to fill my head, a bathtub overflowing from the faucet I call my brain, trying my hardest not to forget a single lesson I was taught over the last 3 months. Shaking from the inner crevices of my torso; my extremities losing all sense of warmth they once possessed. The voices of my peers become murmurs; blurred and distant, as though I forget the English language. I try to curl my lips into a simple yet forced smile as my English teacher walks past me, trying to convince not only him but also myself, that I am ready. There is a great possibility that I did hear it, but missed to interpret the announcement over the PA system, although I gather it was time to motion my way towards the awfully uninviting Hell’s gates. Classmates unsurely look at each other and pick up their textbooks for the final time. We exchange glances ten times over before the bravest of them all takes the first step into the corral, our gymnasium. The air is much cooler than usual, bitter and sharp yet unexpectedly refreshing. As I struggle to find my name, I start to feel my senses heighten. I see the faint words through the flipped over booklet. I smell pen ink and the tangy essence of an energy drink from the boy sitting across from me as I inhale deeply trying to stay relaxed. I taste the bitterness of the vomit I try to choke down for the third time. I hear someone scrambling through their pencil case, trying to find the brand new, unopened white eraser they had kept all year until this very moment. I feel the warmth of the air of whoever was breathing heavily behind me and the hairs on my neck stand up as shocking shivers slide down my spine. The uneven wooden desk was cool and smooth with a single gash where someone must have impaled a pen. My legs were crossed and my posture was impeccable. The strongest feeling of all was the anxious nervousness that enlightened every single nerve. I feel queasy, as if the words spilling out of the supervising teacher intoxicated my organs. I prepared the best I possibly could; day and night for weeks but this exam would determine which school if any school I would get in to and the next 80 minutes would set out the path for my future that is what I feared most. I became too dependent on excuses, excuses which could not be used on this day. I came to realization that there was no second chance, there was no re-do, and there was no getting out of this one. Completing this final exam was unavoidable.

                                                                                                        

Poetry beyond words

In the poem “To this day” by Shane Koyczan, he describes his encounters with bullying as a child. He explains that “we are not what we are called”, that we are not defined but what other people say. He concluded stating that “they were wrong”, that the people who made fun of him and all the other children who unfortunately had to face this horrific lifestyle as they grew up. They soon started to believe that “[they] were not beautiful”. But as they grew older, they began to believe that “they were wrong”. Shane uses several examples of similes, metaphors and analogy’s such as “kids used to say that she looks like a wrong answer someone tried to erase but couldn’t quite get the job done”.  The way his passion and true feelings erupts when he speaks about his past, which makes this poem truly touching and inspiring. This poem emits a feeling of darkness and sadness, but also inspires and makes you realize that people do not define your worth. I really enjoyed this poem, as I do with the majority of Shane’s work,  is how passionate he is, and how he speaks with feelings of anger and sadness almost as if writing this poem brought back memories of how he felt at this time. I also related strongly, because everybody has gone through tough times and been told or called things that make them question who they really are.  This poem is a great example of how everybody needs to watch what they say because something you said to someone three years ago may stick with them until “to this day”.

In the poem “what do teachers make?” by Taylor Mali, he is asked as a teacher, what he makes. Of course, the person asking meant how much money, but Taylor twisted it around and told him all the things he makes his students do such as “spell definitely beautiful, over and over so they will never again spell those two words wrong again”. The message being portrayed from this poem is that “teachers make a difference”, they make a difference in students’ lives and teach them life lessons they will take with them for the rest of their lives such as to “apologized and mean it”.  He proposes that if "somebody ever tries to judge you by what you make, give them this." It does not matter how much money you make,  if you can affect somebody’s life in the best way possible, that is what matters. "Teachers make a goddman difference! Now what about you?" is my favourite line because of the brief amount of words it contains but the impact it has, is tremendous. His point of view really made me consider what the important factors are in life. Society paints this image in our heads that people who are most famous or make more money in a year, are the most important. The valuable moments come from the heart not from a dollar bill. Those who donate their time and love, make a larger impact than those who just give away cash. For example, a homemade card means so much more than a dollar store one that has ten other replicas. " I make parents see their children for who they are, and what they can be."

In the poem “instructions for a bad day” by Shane Koyczan, a story is told about how to deal with bad days.  Bad days are inevitable, but you can and will get through them. That “every bad day has an end.” The line that says, “They will tell you; you can stack misery, you can pack disappear you can even wear your sorrow – but come tomorrow you must change your clothes” is an exampled of a metaphor as it compares changing into fresh clothes to beginning a brand new day. Remember the times you could have pressed quit – but you hit continue is another metaphor comparing a movie in which you can pause and push play to your everyday life. Like I said in my previous explanations of a one of Shane’s poems, after listening to his voice and the way he expresses his feelings throughout the entire story, I feel very moved and motivated. I was first shown this poem last year in one of my Monday morning leadership classes, and it has stuck with me ever since. I went home and made all my family members listen to it, that’s how much I loved it. It happened to be on one of my bad days as well so it related very closely me. I go through several days in which I have learned from this, that you have a choice on whether to make it a good day or bad day just by changing your frame of mind. If it happens to be a bad day, know that it is not the end of the world, that “by tomorrow, today will have ended.”

Homework Blues



       As I shuffled into the classroom, I knew that Mr. Van Camp would never believe me. I looked at my scuffed shoes and mumbled, "My homework is not done, Sir. I do have a good excuse though."
       " This is not the first time your homework has not been completed. Perhaps," Mr. Van Camp suggested, "it's time to speak with your parents."
       "Please, you have no idea what will happen to me if you phone my home," I moaned. It looked as if he was going to fall for my story.
      "Well, let's hear your excuse. It better be good."

      “So you see Mr. Van Camp,” I began. “I had a very interesting weekend.”

     He stared at me, very unimpressed. “Yes Sam, I understand that, but that is not an excuse.”

 We both stood there for moment, in awkward silence. I was embarrassed and he was unhappy. I was conflicted on whether or not to spill the information I was planning to keep to myself; whether or not to share my secret.

    “What exactly happened, during this interesting weekend?” he asked, waiting intensively for my response.

     “Um…well...uh...” I stuttered, getting more and more nervous. “I can’t tell you because…of some very important reason.” At this point I didn’t even believe myself.

     “Sam, you are aware that I am not convinced correct?”

I stood there panicking as my heart started racing faster and faster. I began to sweat. It felt as though the walls were closing in on me.  I finally decided to tell the truth; it seemed like the only logical answer.

     “Okay, I have to be honest with you, Mr. VC,” I spoke under my breath. “This is very difficult for me to tell you, and besides you probably won’t believe me anyhow, so just call my parents and they will explain everything exactly the way it all happened.”

       

Lying again are we?

            
               Have you ever been lied to repeatedly? If you are one of those unfortunate people who have, then you know how Gabriella feels. In the short story "Bluffing" by Gail Helgason, a young couple goes for a hike up in the forest, and come face to face with a bear. During this encounter, Liam flees the scene and ends up in the hospital as a result of a terrible attack. Gabriella is stuck questioning the truth about what really happened on that very unlucky day. The real question: is Liam lying to Gabriella? Yes, I strongly believe he is.  Even in the beginning of this, he seems very dishonest and controlling over his girlfriend Gabriella, forcing her to follow his rules, when she is sitting in the hospital pondering "the scent [reminding] her of the home-made cleaning solution she prepared at Liam's insistence." The entire vibe that is illuminated from his existence protrudes negativity. He avoids the truth just to get what he wants; lying to the other hikers at the lake, “Might not be a good idea.  We’re turning back ourselves, came across an elk carcass…they usually come back to the kill, you know.”  They told those hikers that with a straight face, when in fact, neither Gabriella nor her boyfriend ever saw a dead body.  Liam seems to be very non-observant to how his lady really feels. He basically tears her heart apart when he tells her, “Clive and [him] worked it out…[they’ve] got just enough to get by for three months…so [they’re] gunna head down south for the winter.” The main purpose of this mountainous adventure, was the hope that Gabriella would gain up enough courage to talk to him about the possible thought of “signing a one year lease” with her, so the mere thought of him leaving, was enough to send her over the edge, pushing her farther and farther as she ran into the bush, stopping just as the eyes of the grizzly bear caught sight of her.  The reasoning behind her troubled mind would be Liam’s persistent need to avoid the truth. So you tell me, would he lie about being her saviour?

It is on the inside that counts

     Explaining what somebody looks like, is not complicated; but more the idea of describing the image that your eyes develop in your own words, and in your own way that seems to be the challenge. What an image may look like to one, may not be the same picture the person sitting next to you sees. To me, this lady seems quite aged, with a wrinkled face like ancient bed sheets that crave the touch of a good iron. Her wiry hair is turning grayer as the days pass by.  Her glistening jewelry however, brings back the youthfulness to the surface of her appearance. Her confidence is booming as she presents herself so proudly, with her sweet sunhat propped perfectly upon her head.  It would shock me though, if she cared about her health because her yellowed finger tips and the way that single cigarette lays perfectly between her fingers makes me wonder if she has had this nasty habit for forever and day.