Conquest Of The Useless By Werner Herzog

The familiar aroma of coffee fills the air as I enter the not so common area. I feel very bewildered in the labyrinth of hallways searching for my classroom just like I had stepped into corn maze as a child. At last, I locate the secluded room tucked away inside the massive building. Even though the number on the door matches the number on my schedule I am still second guessing if I am in the right place. The door opened up as students poured out. Finally, I took my seat at the back, trying my hardest to sit down unnoticed. My hands were shaking as I wrote the class name at the top of my paper. After what seemed like ages the professor proceeded to

The last thing she could remember was, walking outside to get some fresh air, but a snap of a twig, had made her feel suspicious. When she had turned around, she was afraid of what she might see, but that was the opposite of what she felt when she saw Cam Wallace.

I encountered a peculiar individual on the sidewalks this evening. I can recall that “ The girl stopped and looked as if she might pull back in surprise (Page 4)”. Nervousness shook my body as this mysterious girl applied a sense of mystery to herself. She asked me a variety of questions that i firmly responded too as I soon realized that she was our new neighbor. She was an odd one, she even described herself as crazy, the young ones these days.

An idea was tracing through the back of her mind, and so she thought to try and best and quickly she could manifest how she felt. Several minutes minutes of failure of preforming such mental acrobatics propelled Katie towards the decisive choice of going to her closet. As she opened the mirror door, Katie gazed into her own ocean green eyes, and revealing a bounty of tired clothing nobody really wore. Her slender arm reached a slender hand to grasp an engraved brown leather booklet.

Girls perch on the tables like exotic birds gossiping and giggling, a football fly’s above their heads between two jocks in varsity jackets parading their toned muscles. Groups of high schoolers sit around the room laughing. Weekend has arrived and the hallways of the school were filled with tons of kids ready to go home. Every ear filled with the sound of multiple conversations going off at once, lockers opening and closing, music blasting without. I had managed to push past the constant stream of children and to the school field. The grass was damp and covered in a thin layer of frost. As I walked my footprints were embedded, leaving a piece of me in the cold ground. I saw my friends faraway chattering and fooling around. I was stuck in the wrong crowd; they are nothing like me but somehow I am still friends with them. I slowly made my way up to my “so called friends”.

“My dream is to travel the world,” says Anna when asked her about her hopes and dreams. She’s a learner at heart, but also a busybody. She likes to move, learn, and understand different culture. While seeming like a slightly childish dream, ANna has been all over, from Georgia, to Mississippi, all the way to London, England. She does not just like traveling in the literal sense, but also through books. Anna’s aspiration to travel fuels her dislike of being back in beautiful, but familiar Lookout Mountain,

Sophie walked along the narrow, cracked path in the woods. It seemed as if no one had visited here for a long time, but that wasn’t true. She loved these long, calm walks that she took every week. Something in the atmosphere made her relax; perhaps it was the lulling, beautiful music that the birds made, or the wildlife chattering everywhere. She could gather her thoughts without having to listen to all the other kids whispering about her behind her back. Sophie knew what was said about her: that she was unnaturally good at climbing and swimming. There were girls who called her weirdos for her desire to lay in the sun for hours and to take nature hikes. It was disheartening to hear such negative comments about her every day; there wasn’t anywhere that she went that she would be accepted. The only place that Sophie truly felt at home was in the forest surrounded by all the sweet animals that came out of their shyness whenever she was around and visited her. She loved the feel of their fur and skin; Sophie was definitely an animal person and hated anyone who abused them.

I woke up in a cold sweat. My brother at my side still shaking me yelling “Emily we are going to be late!” I gave him an evil eye and rolled out of bed. I got dressed and ready and got on the bus. My best friend was there reading, like always. “Hey Wendy, what are you reading this time?” I said as I sat down “The Starving Maze” She said proudly. Like most fangirls, she has a crush on a make believe character that is played by someone that lives in Europe, or California, or Canada. In the book she has a crush on ‘Went’ which is short for ‘Wenton’. Anyway, she wishes she could meet this person and marry him. Remember that he is fake, I hope. At school everyone was looking sad, with no joy at all, even though it was the last day of school. I was

He went through the day in a daze. Not even listening to what his friends had to say. The only memory he had of that day was getting an A on his project. Even then he didn’t have enough energy to express his delight. Well, that and Mr.Monkey reminding the class that there was a geography test tomorrow. With that, his eyes flew open. He groaned and moaned all the way back home.

The leaf litter underneath crunched and crackled as Colette approached the border. She ducked beneath the lowest branches of the trees, maneuvered around the shrubbery that blocked her path. She closed her eyes when she felt the gust of cold air. Her feet dug into the soil, gaining small footholds as she carefully navigated through tricky foliage. Stray beams of moonlight dappled her shirt, and the eerie silence kept her focused—alert. She could hardly hear her own breath, but that was largely out of her own volition. She chose to hold her breath, exhaling slowly as her eyes scanned what had been in front of her.

Danni contemplated turning around and going only god knows where but before Danni could decide she was yanked out of her thoughts by an abnormally loud horn blaring from a car. Sighing she jerked her bike forward and away from the packed Diner. Danni's figure biked down a wide road, not quite leisurely, for her large backpack hanging off of her back had started to dig into their shoulders, but happy. The girl was happy because of the easy escape, she had left the commotion of the town many times. The girl smiled there was the worn path down to the center of her small town, snaking through the trees to meet the rocky dirt roads. Danni had always loved the buzz of the new, the thrill of the unknown, the seeking of new answers that push her limits.

“Paths of Glory” is the critically acclaimed 1957 feature film, which was directed by Stanley Kubrick. The movie was produced by James B. Harris, and based on the book “Paths of Glory,” by Humphrey Cobb. Leading the cast were Kirk Douglas, Ralph Meeker, Adolphe Menjou, George Macready, Wayne Morris and Richard Anderson. It was released on Christmas Day.

Eliza ran as hard as she could. She could not be late to school again. She had overslept at least three times in the past week as well as a few dozes in the middle of class. She thought back to the dreams she had been having during her midday snoozes and sighed. In them, she had been walking through a forest, near trees that seemed to stretch as tall as the sky. There were two other people with her too, they looked at her with expectation and question, which confused her even more. They were strange folk, they had pointed ears, elegant faces that seemed to shine with starlight, and long, flowing blond hair. Eliza stared at them with amazement, just beginning to make herself feel comfortable. Then, all of a sudden they sprinted away… Eliza had

wind slowly whistling across the oak trees. “Mom, they all think that I’m a demented freak! What’s the point of going to school if I can’t even focus!?” Ellie forced a yell, but you could tell that her voice was weak from all the previous crying, and her eyes were dark and sunken in from all the sleep-deprived nights. But if I were you, I wouldn’t dare call her an insomniac, even if you find it to be true, because she always desperately tries to convince herself that she’s normal.

She walks to her bus stop and waits silently, watching the cars go by, She takes a few steps back from the road and keeps herself at a safe distance . Finally the bus arrives , she gets on the bus and sits in the back seat by herself , where she stares out of the window . She soon arrives at her school. Before her first class begins she spends time with her friends.