Personal Narrative: My Informed Conscience

Her father’s words echoed through her head as one might hear a reverberation throughout the Taj Mahal. Continuous. Chilling. Having no control to distill the wavelengths until they mellowed out on their own accord. She tried to anatomize the depth of his phrase, more than dutifully needed but Davina needed to know why. Why did she need to keep an open mind and more importantly, who the hell was about to come bursting through that door. But then again, did it really matter in the first place. When she thought about it, the brunette could have laughed at the idea. That an unattributed, faceless figure had her panties in a bunch. Surely Dominic wouldn’t think to waste her time with venial diversions,

I think that is an excellent thought, Lindsey. When I first read this that is what I thought as well. Whenever Ada begins to let Susan love her, and whenever Susan starts to show more affection Ada lashes out. I think that Ada lashes out because she feels like she is not deserving of love, and she is not deserving of nice things. This just tears me up inside when a person does not feel like they are worth being loved. The amount of damage that Ada has suffered is almost irreversible now and I think Susan is starting to realize that this will not be an easy fix. I am honestly surprised at how normal Jamie is because even though he was not the one who was abused, he witnessed the abuse. I am glad that he has not lost his trust in people. This

Put the gun down! Put the gun down! Pow Pow Pow. The gun shots cracked into the air as loud as thunder. One after another. We live day by day not knowing our end. In the blink of an eye our lives can be changed forever. Its life, yet even in knowing this we never expect tragedy to find us. We never expect it to affect our lives and the people we know and love. I’m going to share with you the day tragedy found my life.

Although I have not thought about how I would stage a play I will give myself a chance to thinking thoroughly about how I would want an audience to receive a piece of work written by the four playwrights we have read this semester. Drawing on Wilson’s famous speech, I have an idea about what I would want. The Ground on Which I Stand is one that acknowledges the amazing playwrights we were able to read this semester. I appreciate what they have given to the world through the stage and in print. There have been plays that I resonated with me and some that were harder to grasp. Many of these playwrights talk about connections and family which is a way that I have connected with the characters. I wouldn't use many of the playwrights as influences

I like to beat the rush for lines and do not prefer being late, but

Reflect on a time when you challenged a belief or idea. What prompted you to act? Would you make the same decision again?

Thanks for the conversations! I really like what we have here. Well, I'm sure you know my writing style at this point and if its at least before 1 AM, don't be afraid to message me if you need to reach out to someone. I definitely would be here for you, if you let me. Try and keep an open mind, I've learned that talking to someone helps gradually. In the moment, eveyrhting they say can seem as if they're playing devils advocate as well as being unsensical and rude. It's up to you to listen and comprehend, just as it is up to you who you talk to. I hope you find the help or a someone that can provide the support you need in those times of need. Housing at SJSU is going through a transition as a new building opens here is another coming to a

I sat down with my boy on the recliner he hopped up as I read the paper back to him. This seemed Like a cozy get up for a boy to grow up in, but as I began to read my mind was adrift into other things. I had to split sometime soon but I couldn’t help think “what awaits me there?” I thought of a time when I lived in the city, New Orleans. Late one night while I was a private dick I lit my cigarette and began listening to the smooth jazz of the night. The cool wind of the night brushed my face and wavered my smoke as I pulled my hat down I noticed some grifter out of the corner of my eye. I kept walking. The sly grifter moved along the shadows.

The second I walked into middle school, I knew what I wanted to do, and how I intended to do it. Growing up, I was always taught to value education since nobody in my family had gone to college. Questions about college were frequently met with blank stares and dismissive shrugs. It was regarded as unchartered territory, and I planned to conquer it. My earliest memory of my grandmother was when I was 8 years old. Yearning for something to do, I resolved to learn Farsi, and began nagging my grandmother to teach me it. However, growing up in Iran, she never learnt how to read or write, and so she couldn't write my name, or even teach me the alphabet. My 8-year-old mind couldn't grasp the idea that my grandmother was illiterate. I went to school every day, learned how to write

In that moment I realized the world isn’t all friendship and giggles. I never expected to see or hear someone so cruel before in my life, I thought it only ever happened in the telenovelas my mom and watched after she picked me up from elementary school. I could see Skylar, the new student in my kindergarten class, talking with an upperclassman behind the tall metal slide. I barely heard the introductions, but I could clearly hear when the upperclassman laughed. He laughed at the name that the boy was given. I didn’t expect what came out of my mouth, and they certainly didn’t either.

Two years after we had signed the gas lease my father stopped farming. The cows and the pigs were sold to the Baker’s farm on the other side of Iberdeen. So were his two tractors along with most of the other equipment that had taken up real estate on our land. Now our house sat on almost three hundred acres of dirt, grass, hay, fieldstone, history.

When I was five I played outside with all of my neighbor friends, since nobody had homework.

From a very young age I was brought up around religion. I would go to Sunday school every day, church camps and I also never attended a public school, all private religious school. But I began to become confused very quickly as the actions of my parents began to prove otherwise.

I barely slept, ate on the run, and by the time the week drew to a close, I had accumulated close to twenty thousand dollars due to perseverance, and resiliency. Also, with Tyche on my side, I was able to rent an economical two bedroom apartment with plenty of sunlight, four blocks from ‘Ink it Baby’, and secured a job waiting tables at Harry’s Diner, two blocks from my abode.

When I was little the world looked so colorful and everything had a surprise ending that made you hold onto your seat. Growing up made me realize how twisted the world can be, so many people believe in corruption. I walk on a road that's not even on the map, a road that is similar to me. It leads to somewhere unexpected, but having to get there isn't worth the walk.