Life Is Full of Fake People and Everyone Is Not Being Real

Stephanie Ericsson, through personal anecdotes in her essay “The Ways We Lie,” reveals that no matter how big or how small, a lie is a lie. Throughout the essay, she defines the different ways people lie and explains to the reader the significance of the lies they tell. At the same time, she gives examples in which she lies because she believes that “we lie. We all do.” This keeps the readers from thinking she is criticizing everyone, but herself. As she sees it, we need to take in consideration the consequences of the lies we tell before telling the bank “my deposit is in the mail” when it isn’t. Such use of personal anecdotes support the theme and strengthen the essay because they establish pathos which move the audience to realize the impact

I’ve always been a very shy person who doesn’t like much attention brought to myself. I’m assuming this is why a family member decided I would be his target. Carl was roughly five-six years older than me, and one would think, he should have known better. It started when I was five, at least that’s the age I can remember. It wasn’t until I had gotten older to really understand what was going on. Carl would always say to me “Don’t tell, he’ll get in trouble”, or don’t tell, because my mom would get mad at me”. This lasted until I was around 10, at that point I started to feel uncomfortable, and weird. I had finally matured enough to understand that I didn’t like what was going on. I still didn’t completely understand the gist of it, but I knew

I have only talked to this person about two times since being here at college. It was a Tuesday morning, around 7:45 a.m. We were in the elevator, going from the fourth floor to the first. I was nervous getting on the elevator, knowing I was about to do it. I stood right by this person, since there were five others, all around the age of nineteen, with us. As I started to ask how their morning was, I leaned in to talk to them. This person actually pulled their head back away from mine as they started to talk. I noticed their eyes got wider and they were hesitant to answer me back. During our conversation, I felt embarrassed because I could tell I made them uncomfortable. After we got to the first floor, I walked fast to leave this person. I was that self-conscious, I wanted to leave immediately. Breaking a social norm with an acquaintance is an awkward situation for both people.

I felt scared when I was standing up to him because he was a bully and he was the one bothering me for the whole school year and I decided it had to stop. The only thing that I was thinking was I couldn’t let him bother me anymore and, I couldn’t take anymore of it. I was thinking if he was with his friends when I'm on my way to class he and his friends might beat me up. When I was

During my early years I was bullied in and out of school. My first experience with bullying started when I was in daycare. A girl named Kelly started bullying me. Every time I saw her she would talk about either my hair or my clothes or the way I looked. One day, my brother and Kelly’s sister were watching Kelly and I. Kelly’s aunt had told her to leave me alone. And after her aunt left the room, Kelly started pushing me to see what I would do and after a while I got really angry, so I punched her in the face. As her aunt came back in the room, she saw Kelly on the floor with me standing over her. Kelly’s Aunt then said, “Did I not tell you to leave her alone.” After that experience I knew that I had the

It was early in my first semester on a Friday, when I first chose to spend a weekend partying with friends outside of Binghamton University's swim team. After a grueling practice, there was a discussion in the locker room about party plans for that night and for the night after. As a shy and modest freshman, I kept my thoughts to myself. Meanwhile, the upper classmen were brainstorming ideas for a party theme. As the team was changing, the brainstorming continued and I unexpectedly got a text message from a Calculus classmate who I met earlier that week. He was inviting me to a social festivity with him and other new classmates of mine that night. At the very moment I finished reading that text, one of the captains shouted, "Hey Artie! You're coming with us, right?" There was an everlasting pause from the moment he said "right?" with inquiry in his voice, making it clear that he was expecting an answer. The demanding question caught me off guard, and I stood there gaping while I was still holding my phone which was still opened to the text message that I just received. There was an awkward pause before I came up with an answer. It took three "Mississippi seconds" of weird silence for everyone in the locker room to look up and stare at me while waiting for a response. For those three long seconds I was unsure of what to say and how to express my true interests. I felt

Journal: I was always the innocent one. These two girls always wanted me to be on one of their side and against the other. There friendship was on and off. One girl would pull me away from the other. It was like their friendship was a competition. They were each other's rivals. Yet they are still friends up to this day.

She called out numbers. We got in groups. He was in my group. I studied him and liked what I saw, but even then I didn't feel the attraction. Strange.

Friendships is a poem by Erica Fryberg that can relate to almost anybody who has experienced real and fake friendships, as it is about the speaker’s perspective on friendships, and the difference between having real and fake friends, forced friendships and real friendships. Through a comparison of friendships and furniture, the poet uses a humorous tone to describe friendships, making the speaker relatable. I particularly enjoyed this, as on a personal level I was able to relate to this, as a student at a school where teachers attempted to force unnatural relationships multiple times. Overall, this poem was an engaging poem, which, through language and poetic devices, clearly described the difference between real and fake friendships.

    A week before the second district game and my family and I were eating at five guys at Tiffany Springs. We had just sat down with our food when a guy came in that was dressed in his 2017 senior hoodie and sweatpants. He was waiting for his food when I got up to refill my drink, He asked if I went to Smithville because he saw I was wearing a smithville sweatshirt.

has bullied me for years, for what reason? I start to look at all my bad features,

After all he was a complete stranger. I was fourteen and I felt like my life had been altered without my permission. I saw him once more after this initial meeting. We went to White Castle with my other siblings. As a child I struggled with my weight. I remember not ordering a lot of food. I didn’t want him to think I was fat. I made sure to be polite and engaging. I wanted him to accept me. I wanted him to like me. I talked about school. But I made sure not to brag about my good grades. He asked me about boys and although at the time there was a boy I liked, I didn’t dare tell him that. He laughed at my vague response and said he didn’t want to have to hurt some knucklehead boy. In that moment I felt safe, protected. It felt so good.

When I was in third grade there was this kid named Andrew. He is a very important person in my memories because he was my bully. It wasn’t the kind of bullying situation that you could fix by telling a parent because he was in my dad’s car. Yes he was a person in my dad’s carpool and there was nothing i could do about it. At school there was an assembly that talked about the types of bullies. They were verbal, assault, exclusion, and cyber. He would do all of those things to me. He would call me fat, ugly, and swear words that i can’t say/write. He was also at my school and we had recess together. When i would go outside he would track me down and he would push me and throw basket balls and soccer balls at me.

I am always dreading to go to school because of Bartholomew Raider. He was my personal bully. He would follow me and be breathing down my back the whole day. Bartholomew would trip me, throw my books on the ground, slam my head on the lockers, and would tease me about not doing my homework even though he would not do his homework if you paid him one-hundred dollars. Bartholomew was at least six feet tall and weighed at least 180 pounds. Bartholomew also had bad grades in all of his classes. I have talked to my counselor and my Mother about this situation but they both say they can’t prove he is guilty of bullying me at school. One day Bartholomew took it too far, he grabbed my arm so hard it felt like he was going to rip it off and he spun

He would have his fair share with other girls and would degrade me. The name calling then turned into screaming arguments, leaving me in tears. If I did not do what he wanted, he would make sure to make my life a living hell. I began to lose many great friendships because I was not allowed to hangout with anyone. He would keep tabs on me all of the time. I was not allowed to drink alcohol, go to parties, hangout with my family, or have any guy friends.