Dialectical Journal Analysis

Thank you the M-1 Marvels for allowing me to be apart of the huddle this week!

I believe that at the end of chapter 1 in the book we are meant to feel that Cole is a very mean person. Also that he thinks he is better than everyone and he is superior, the evidence to show this is on page 4 when it states “Still standing on the dock in front of everyone, Cole smirked as he undressed.” This piece of evidence shows that cole thinks he is better than the people because he is smirking as he undresses in front of them. Another piece of evidence to show that cole thinks he is better than everyone is on page 5 and it says “Nothing could be farther from the truth. To cole this was another big game.” This clearly is showing that cole thinks he is better than everyone he takes everything as a game he doesn’t really realize what is

41. “Our dilemma is that we see happiness only in the future” 42. “Harmony and happiness are powerful weapons against the war” 43. “Happiness is the feeling of being alive” 44. “Every new day is achance to discover a happier you” 45.

Paul says that every man should trust his luck because chance is all they have. Paul says “ It is just as much a matter of chance that [ he is] still alive as that [he] might have been hit” (49). He also says that “ No soldier outlives a thousand chances” (49). Paul is saying that all the soldiers can trust is their chance and luck.

There was many people who joined the war, some of them were forced to go, and some of them were being choose to go. The author says: “…some of them excited by the adventure, some of them afraid, some of them exhausted from the long night march, some of them looking forward to reaching the sea, where they would be safe.” The author uses the images of the sea to build to peaceful picture on their mind. There was major difference between two characters that are Toby and Paul. Toby is used to wars and everyone knows him, and he has a nickname that is called: "Buffalo", and some of them were calling him "Buff". Paul is new to a war, and he is afraid and no one knows him and he doesn't have a nickname.

S1 Now what you said you get 20% that's $560 less the $75 you're back to $485 so you’re sometimes making a couple thousand dollars in a week?

There is brown, wooden jewelry box on my bookshelf. Inside are the various accessories I like to collect, including necklaces. On the day of my baptism, I received a necklace. This cross, carved from ivory, gives me a sense a protection. Sometimes I remove it to wear a more fashion forward necklace but whenever the feeling of danger arises, I quickly seek to wear my necklace. At night, images of my grandmother’s failing health and death flood my mind. To suppress the tears, to clear my mind, I grasp the necklace and stroke the necklace as I beg God for piece of mind. When I feel lonely, this necklace comforts

A bus pulls up to a gravelly parking lot, no buildings in sight except a small building with a sign with a very unusual name, “Icthus”. Icthus is a Christian summer camp I go to every summer, and its is one of my favorite places in the wold. Whenever I walk around camp it fill my head with some of my happiest memories. First, I enter the Ichtus Worship Building, I can still hear the sound of praise to The Lord, a very familiar sound to me. After a little bit of walking, I come up to the kitchen, just by looking at it I get hungry for the buttery and soft mashed potatoes. Around a mile away from the kitchen is the fire pit, where night worship meets. I can almost smell the burned wood in the fire and feel the comforting warmth of the fire.

I open my eyes. My head is buzzing, my eyelids feel as if they weigh a thousand pounds; every inch of my limp body aches with an unbearable pain. My surroundings are hectic; acrid fumes are filling the air and blue and red neon lights pierce my eyes. Unfamiliar faces gather around my body talking a million miles an hour, but I can hardly decipher what they’re saying. Someone kneels beside me and faintly whispers, “sometimes you have to go through Hell to get to heaven.” I shut my weary eyes, unaware that they would never open again.

I pushed myself off the cold ground, stubbing to my feet. Only to fall back down. Griping a nearby tree and lifted me to my feet "stefan! Please answer me!'' I cried out. But no one answered me. All I found by Stefan was his sack, near where I wake up. Early inside the sack was a bloody chain, when small feathers and a small piece of skin hung off it. When shaking hands, I reached out to pick it up. As my hand lightly mean it, I hot burn feeling engulfed my hand, with a short gasp and tear filled eyes I freed my hand back.

I couldn’t take any more of this, I’m so overcome by fear that I’m ready to give up. But the couch where I’m sitting on would expose me to more, and that demon wouldn’t let make this call so easily. I get up and try to navigate towards the small closet where we put our spare supplies of cleaning utensils and where I would refuge from her anger, confined in that dark damp, unbearable closet. But it was the only option left for any privacy, and where I wouldn’t so easily be ambushed by attacks. I get up and crawl on all fours afraid if another rough hand would tug at the collar of my shirt. It was next to impossible to make out anything in the dark, I rely on my memory of the layout of the supply closet. I feel the corners of the wall until I touched the cool doorknob, I twist the handle and close the door behind me and hide behind a small beam. This should give me cover for the time being.

What sounds like the voices of civilians. They sound like they are talking in my ear and I can’t get them away. It is so disappointing because for the slightest amount of time I actually believe that somebody has come to save me. But then my wishful thinking disappears and I come back to reality and realize nobody is coming and nobody ever will. So I pray to god that these voices are trying to tell me something. Instructions on how to escape or something. I listen closely and write down the voices in the dirt with a stick. The things they say, whatever they are, are people’s names, dates, places, and times. I have no memory of how I got here so maybe this is about my life. Maybe one day everything will click, but probably

After my first day here the men had sat me on a crusty old mattress in a corner and had tied me to a pipe by the mattress. Once every day they would give me a slice of bread and a little cup of water. Quickly my health deteriorated and I shed pounds left and right. With little word of what was going on outside of this death hole my hope for my future also left me. One night as I lay on the bed something caught the small light of the lamp in the corner. It twinkled and a small, sharp nail lay right beside the bed. As I looked around the room and down the dark hallway there was no sign of the men so I scooted myself over the edge and used my feet to kick it towards me. Somehow I grabbed it and slowly started to cut the bands from my wrist. An hour later I cut through the last part of the rope and I took off running down the damp dark hallway as my legs started to give out. It was pitch black and the hallway seemed to go on forever. I heard the men yelling a ways back behind me, realizing I had escaped. I kept running and soon a light in the distance appeared. The end had come. I ran into the

As I laid there, staring into the blinding white light illuminated by the shattered windows, tranquil winds began whispering into my frail ears. With all my strength, I thrust myself up from the comfort of my bed and carefully shifted my legs towards the dilapidated door. I slowly gaze through the millions of derelict hospital beds, however, life is nowhere to be found... Sentiments of abandonment raced through my conscience as every muscle in my body began contracting. My mind entered a state of anguish as my body began taking control. I pounced myself towards the slippery, icy slabs of marble with great alacrity as I lunged towards the wooden door. Without hesitation, I grasp the asperities of the wooden handle and shove the door open. However, I only unlocked the gates to hell... Syringes congested with concoctions of blood scattered lifelessly on the rugged floors as vines began forming a twisted maze on the walls, engulfing the room with their life-absorbing tentacles. A pungent, dank odour crept into my sinuses as the abhorrent chemicals trickled down my desiccated taste buds, inducing a nauseating pain in my stomach. Anxiety consumed me as I dashed through the eerie hallway, seeking the serene sunlight emitted from the door. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally escaped the diabolical, dilapidated abyss. However, what I perceive is inconceivable…

Anger and panic swirls in the pit of my stomach, I start to bang against the wooden door, “Hello! Is anyone there! Let me out!” I don’t know how long I bang and yell, it feels like ages, I don’t stop until my voice is hoarse and my hands throbbing like my head. “Please.” I whimper stumbling back and falling to my knees clasping my hands above me my cross gripped tightly in my hands leaving an imprint in my hands. I begin to recite verses of the bible, praying for the Lord to free me from my prison.