Personal Narrative Analysis

The pixies leader looked at the quartz and garnets with interest. He flew closer and picked up a medium size quartz crystal and bit into to to check whether is was real or not. Once he was satisfied he agreed.

I found this week’s reading in the course text on custom fitting shotguns to be quite interesting because I’ve almost always had a shotgun in my home, but I’ve never done any work to customize the scatter guns I’ve owned… I think That’ll be changing pretty soon. Prior to getting into shotguns in this course I never had an idea as to how some custom work could enhance the performance of a shotgun. I knew there was a ton of work that could be done, but because I was never really into wing shooting or whatnot I never saw how it might help me out.

I moved to the United States with my mom and younger brother when I was 10. My dad was already living in New York at the time so we moved to stay together, leaving everything behind. My most prized possession was a bag of marbles I gave to my friend; I thought I could get it back when I returned.

I think today went really well! I had the same patient as last week so I think that after last week and not knowing what to expect today I was much more confident and comfortable with the process. I was way more comfortable with giving the medications and how to document on her MAR. One positive learning experience from today was in the post discussion I learned a lot about different types of laxatives and how they differ. Additionally, I learned why a lot of geriatrics are put on a laxatives.

An interminable space of swaying drowsiness, stirring, floating, quiet and murkiness were wrapping me few moments ago. “What is happening to me?”, I pondered noiselessly while stunned by my abruptly tilting universe. I attempted to respond with any movement just to give a sign of life, a shout for assistance however I essentially proved unable.

As foretold, my mental visual sense began to adapt to the subtle wavelengths of this sphere and I able to capture my surroundings. I began to take notice of the incredible Godhead within my being as the lights reached their zenith of brightness.

Summer is supposed to be the time to relax, but I cannot necessarily say that is how I spent mine. From the beginning to the end I felt as though I was never home. Between the team camps I attended to the vacations I went on, my suitcase was always full. Yet it was busy, I cannot say it was a bad summer.

It took two weeks to make a decision. I would give one up. Keep the other. At first it seemed easy, just don't get attached. The last week has proven this difficult, because no matter how hard I tried, the thought of my life now consisted of two babies. I tried hard to keep them out of my head, I know I'd never go through with it if I didn't. Of course I always wanted kids, and any other situation this would be my dream, but the fear of hurting them overpowered that and instead of bonding I spent 6 months obsessively trying to forget there were two. I went to my appointments, knew they were both healthy, I knew they were both girls and now I knew, days from giving birth that giving her up was going to be the hardest thing I could think of,

As I stood up from my seat, I felt blood rushing through my veins; felt the temperature rising in my cheeks; felt the piercing gaze of the upperclassmen looking at me - the nervous, timid freshman walking down the aisle to the front of the theater.

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon at my baseball tournament in Evanston, when I heard my coach say "Joey can you come over here for second" in a very uneasy tone. It was shortly after that when me and my teammates realized what had happened. My friends mom got into a horrific car accident that morning. Apparently she was on her phone and ended up slamming into a semi-truck in front of her on I-55. It all seemed so unreal because that morning we drove Joey to the game because his mom was running errands. Fortunately, she was lucky enough to survive the bad accident and only have few temporary injuries.This Crash hit my one of my best friends really hard. It was hard for him to imagine what would happen next, if his mom would ever be the same. This then fell onto my plate as I felt so bad for Joey. I told everyone I knew about her experiences and didn't want anyone else’s family to go through. This all happened because of a simple distraction. What was even worse in my mind was that It's such an easy problem to solve as so many car companies have bluetooth phone capabilities so you can talk on the phone while keeping your eyes on the road in important situations instead of texting.

Glancing at the keys and nodding, he set the metronome and tapped his foot getting the beat physically and let his fingers glide over the keys. Letting the music seep into him as he had played the complex piece over and over again demanding himself to be perfect. Striking each key was perfectly timed and showed the emotion he had made it sound sharp and crisp. Steve kept nodding as he then glanced downward he saw the ivory keys along with his fingers coated in a rich scarlet hue. His fingers bleeding. The pain shot through his fingers as the heat engulfed the slender fingers . It was the fire again! Attempting to put the fire out that now chewed at not only his fingers but the piano as well it only ended with the man sitting up in a blind

I entered this crazy world on June 10th 2001 with a full head of hair and screaming as loud as I could with only one sister always wondering what I was. Apparently some weird alien thing that just appeared in her life at the age of two. Over the years I learned that I was in love with animals. I had 2 cats and a bearded dragon named Kristna ,who would constantly chase me around my sister's room while my sister just laughed. My sister and I were always very different. I was always into hair and makeup she was more into dinosaurs and cars but somehow we always made it work. Whether it was “doing the dinosaurs hair or having my barbies get run over by her race cars we always seemed to have the best of times. We grew up always playing together

Think about your favorite place, everyone has one. Whether it’s sitting in your bedroom covered in blankets, in the woods on a hike, or with all your friends at a party, everyone has a place that they go whenever the opportunity presents itself. For me, now, it’s downtown Chicago. If you would’ve asked me that question a few years ago, it would’ve probably been somewhere close to home. That was before I realized how much I loved traveling, and how much I loved being places that were different from what I was used to. But if I wouldn’t have traveled like I have, I would’ve never known.

People everywhere have this theory that the bad guys are easy to spot. Antagonists are typically ugly, insane, and powerful, among other qualities. They are also most commonly male and, most importantly, they know what they are doing. I'm here to tell you that this isn't always true. Kids believe from a young age that bullies from school are 'bad', and that parents and friends are 'good'. But growing up has led me to realize something: most of the time, parents are not the heroes we make them out to be. They can, in fact, be the direct cause of playground bullies. And friends can come and go like dandelion seeds in the wind.

Nevertheless, the comforting white clouds began to stretch and darken swirling themselves into a silvery metallic vortex. Majestic and alive a giant eye looked down upon me, with a menacing gleam, like it wanted to toy with me then changed its mind due to mere insignificance within its domain, and more important business for itself. My tiny body amid this vast strange universe, staring at the gunmetal clouds, overcome with motion sickness that I had never experienced before. Otherworldly, the impossible spinning waves tunneled through my cells, and with it this time – the smell of death. It hit like a copper truck slamming into me creating a hole to dump its load of rotten eggs, human waste, cheap perfume, and rotting meat forcing my cells to explode from the inside out. It ignited a force of nausea in me so strong my head jerked and I blew out blood, vomit, and a silvery black ooze into my regulator. I kept purging the exhaust valve of excess blood, vomit, and liquid metal. The distinct smell of death became a taste I couldn’t expel. An unholy taste of metallic death. The opposite spinning double waves kept moving through me, shattering my core with its opposing directions.