Chapter One
Lies, that’s all I hear; that’s all I know in this life. All these deceptions swarm around my cranium. They swirl around and leap inside my ears and get stuck in the back of my head. Always replaying, like a broken record, pounding the back of my brain wanting attention. Like a little kid tugging on the hem of his mom’s lilac shirt, while they walk through the grocery store, craving for just one glance his way. Always replaying, never-ending. Everyday, I hear the taunting, I hear the laughing. It’s so deafening that I can’t hear myself think. It has taken away all feeling from my body, but yet I feel everything. I feel all the agony they have caused, all the sorrow they have brought upon me, yet I can’t feel the tears that fall
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I will never be able to become an ambassador. I will never be able to keep peace with everyone, even if that’s what I want, it will never happen. I don’t know why my brain keeps thinking I will be able to do anything, maybe it’s just that broken record replaying in my brain telling me I will never amount to anything, but then my heart tells my brain “nonsense you can do anything you set your mind to” and then for a split second I actually …show more content…
I snap out of my daze and look at Richard. He is smiling at me with a malevolent smirk. I rub my cheek and stare at him, trying my hardest to keep the tears from welling up in my eyes. My mom is still making breakfast and doesn’t even notice that he hit me, again. She was right there this time too, I always tell her he hits me but she never listens. Why can’t she just listen to me? All she cares about is getting married so she can get Richard’s money. She doesn’t even care about her child’s well being. My mother turns around and looks at me with a loving smile and I notice she has earphones in. No wonder she didn’t hear the smack, of course there is an obstacle to keep her from noticing his
The single story is about how a people stereotypes one another based on what they learned through books, media, people, and other sources. For example, Chimamnda announced how she viewed Mexicans as immigrants and them trying to get through the borders, but the moment she stepped foot into Mexico the perspective she got from other sources changed everything. She was ashamed of herself because when she visit the view was completely different because what she saw was happiness, love, and fun. The single story is an image that is created based upon information that was given, but not on your own perspective. In other words, it is the truth to the reality. For example, when people hear of Niagara everyone think of land, poor, Africa, homeless,
The next article I examined was from NBC News, this article toyed with pathos right from the get go. The headline is “Trump Critics Dismiss New Immigration Order as Repackaged ‘Muslim Ban’” (Arkin). That plays with emotion by adding the idea of “Muslim Ban” because everybody has his or her own feelings and ideas within the connotation of that word. It also becomes a factor, because that is what the first immigration ban was dubbed before it was repealed, which shows an immediate sign of a more democratic bias. The article will go onto to convey ideas that makes the idea that this ban is a bad thing, and has religious prejudice within the order. The logos of the article is true, but gives a left-wing approach to the situation, which could affect
A large portion of the world’s older generation possesses the mindset that smartphones are decreasing our intelligence. This view has been held for years and is understandable, but Daniel T. Willingham presents a different idea in his article “Smartphones Don’t Make Us Dump”. Daniel T. Willingham is a professor of psychology at the University of Virginia and is the author of Raising Kids Who Read: What Parents and Teachers Can Do. He gears his article towards the parents of the future generations; correcting their misconceptions and inserting a proper one using logos.
The danger of a single story is that they let the powerful downgrade the weaker because they create stereotypes, they can hurt the people, and no one gets represented from the culture.
With the roadblocks in Callie's adoption it's been a long couple of months, but she was finally getting adopted tomorrow. The whole family couldn't wait for her to officially be a Adams-Foster.
“Elders, this is a scan of Katherine Ayla Regan’s brain when she arrived here yesterday. I’d like you to note the unusual activity in the parietal lobe. She tapped the screen, and the parietal lobe became greater. Kat looked at the screen confused. A weird pink light was pulsing across the lobe.
Lux stands there motionless. Mallory and Anastasia run over embracing her. Walking her over to the couch to sit down.
IMMORTALITY [...] " when adonis first spots her lounging against the love seat hair the color of spilt wine tossed against white leather limbs stretched out like it's her home he knows she isn't human. not simply because her catlike eyes shift around the room with a century's worth of precision. but because as soon as his eyes touch her he feels his heart begin to hyperventilate like she's there ready to asphyxiate him. there isn't a lowly human in the world who could evoke such a reaction from a GOD like he.
A young girl walks through the halls of her high school, clutching a book to her stomach as if it were a shield, her hair falling in her face blocking most of her vision except what was in front of her. She kept her head down. She climbs the stairs one by one, the world turns into a blur as she sees her tormentor standing at the top of the staircase. It’s already too late to turn around and go back, they’ve already seen her. Hands grab at her book, and she is pulled away from the swarm of students. Without warning she is shoved, tumbling backwards. Her head meets a metal bar, her wrist gets caught in the railing, the weight of her body tugging on it until it snaps out of place. She slides down the rest of the steps, pain erupting her. Something skids
2006: A group of smiling faces greeted back at me, like the pretty, welcoming American Girls at New York I dragged my mom to see with me. “Yes!, did you see that? I got sweet, one point for me!” I exclaimed with my tiny fist pumping up and down and my butt wiggling from the excitement I could not contain inside of me. As the condensation from the fresh rain beaded up on the surface of my water, forming lopsided smiles droopy eyes, I blew hard and long; I consumed the biggest puff I could huff and puff, enough to blow down the three little pigs’ brick house. I slashed one tick mark and smiled proudly when there were no tick marks on the other side. The seven-year old me cackled softly as I sneakily slashed one more tick mark. A single sweet
Death and dying is a common thing that is feared by people universally. As we age, it is important to look at death as something that is acceptable, and we need to reflect on our life and find forgiveness, as well as assess our spiritual health. I talked with my elder, Donna, about the importance of reflecting back on her life. Overall, I found that Donna was in a good place when it came to her aging process and looking at death and dying.
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie says that a single story, “Show a people as one thing, as only one thing, over and over again, and that is what they become.” With the view that a single story is a representation of a culture, it is important to realize that a single story has been applied to all cultures.
The indie film that takes in journey filled with unexpectable incidents. When i watch this movie I’m most amazed by the writing, characters development, acting, and the well-done surrealism inside ‘The Dude’s mind.
The topic that I chose to research about was Leonardo DaVinci and his works. I was an art major and I like learning about art history. From the first article that I found, it talked about DaVinci didn't really have help of those around him and how he was more a 'solo' act I guess you could say. He was said to be ahead of his time and that because of that he wasn't influenced by other people's work ("Who").
A tsunami of emotions bashes into me. Anger, betrayal, panic, twisting tighter and tighter, knotting in my chest. I hear voices. I they’re asking me questions, but I can’t understand the words. I am