I remember being a very sassy‚ rebellious‚ careless‚ and pot-headed fifteen year old girl‚ who had the external facade that “I do not care about other people’s opinions of me‚ if they don’t like me they can go fuck themselves.” However‚ internally I wanted to cry when people did not like me and ask why are people so judgmental? As if I would get the answer to this question‚ but at that time‚ I had given up on living up to people’s expectations such as my parents‚ teachers‚ and friends because people
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Madly in love with a nickel in my hand‚ it reflected light like a shining star before 6 o’clock in the morning. To me‚ the nickel represented the joy of hope. As I began to walk home‚ beside the slimy lake‚ there was a log with six or seven toads. They were the largest toads I had ever seen. I came to take a closer look. I noticed the spotted white and blue pattern on their backs‚ which probably meant that they are venomous. And although I always carry a switchblade with me‚ like a swarm of swifty
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In my English 102 class‚ my professor inquired us to write a story concerning Halloween. When being asked this question‚ a story popped into my head about the time Halloween was ruined for me. Halloween has always been my favorite holiday when I think back to my childhood. Halloween makes me think of a lot of great memories‚ hayrides‚ trick-or-treating‚ and dressing up. As a child‚ I loved the feeling of being able to dress up and get candy‚ but that has been distorted. As a child‚ I have always
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Creativity continues to be a difficult word for me to define succinctly. Yet throughout my journey of self-reflection and self-realization‚ incited by Dr. Johnson’s course‚ Leadership & Innovation‚ I notice that I am doggedly pursuing mastery of the creative energy within me. In this pursuit‚ I have learned that truly embracing and knowing and utilizing my own creativity requires a fearlessness‚ free of self-conscious worry and self-judgment. There’s a quote---whose source has been debated (Henry
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“To those who fought and won and those who lost‚ To those who are a still fighting and our valiant allies” “I...uh have a condition called trichotillomania” I had no idea what trichotillomania was but it sounded pretty fucking serious. Devon‚ Sorry‚ I really am. I know this is hard and you will be disappointed in me but please know there is nothing that could’ve been done to save me. I was far too broken to be fixed. I fought for a long time‚ I fought for 34 years‚ beautiful years
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The bright blue background and High Mountain tops over 10 feet taller than me standing at 5’8’’. The slightly chilly breeze that lightly brushes my skin leaving small goose bumps throughout the surface of my whole body. The sound of the waterfall and view of the lake so translucent I can see the yellow fish all the way to the bottom. The trees singing in the background mimicking the echo of the water. The dirt soft and warm in-between my fingers from the pulsating raises of the sun. The rays drift
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I always knew this notion existed. I always tried to ignore it. Whenever someone in my social circle made an intolerant remark‚ I would force myself to calm down reaffirming myself that it’s their ignorance talking‚ that they are just being immature or that they do not understand how pernicious their statements are. Those brief aggressions‚ that resentful mindset‚ I came to a point in which I couldn’t take it anymore. I could not just dismiss it again. At some point‚ I realized I was sick and tired
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When I was 4 years old‚ I started playing T-Ball and I became obsessed with the sport. I played every summer from 4 years old until I started playing school ball. I loved the sport so much‚ I played travel ball every summer and fall. My goal was to play college baseball after graduating high school. I quit all other sports so I could train year around on baseball. My senior year I was chosen to take part in the Under Armour Baseball Tournament in Bradenton‚ Florida. I got to stay and train
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I couldn’t believe what had happened to it‚ I was so mad. It was one of my favorite toys of all time and to see it in its condition made me sad. My dad used to be a P.E. teacher. One day he brought a bunch of his sports equipment home in a big blue bag. My sisters and I loved it when he brought his sports equipment home because we would always play with the tennis rackets‚ footballs‚ and everything else inside of the bag. There was a really nice red ball in the bag. It looked like a medium sized
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My sister Valerie was the firstborn. We call her "Kitty" because of her obsession for bringing home stray cats. She has dark brown hair that she usually keeps cut just above her shoulders. She bosses us younger kids around and snitches on us if we’re bad‚ so we never rely on her for keeping secrets. Fourteen months after Kitty arrived‚ my brother Nicholas was born. His nickname is Nickels because he always has coins jingling in his pants pocket. His brown hair had a slight wave to it‚ and
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