Death. It’s a concept man I'm telling you. God, death is literally the worst. Death. Jesus there it is again, I can’t go a couple goddamn seconds without the word death reappearing in my stream of consciousness. If you really think hard enough, or fuck it, just not think at all, you can come to realize that death is just an everyday thing. It’s common among our everyday life, hell just Sunday a bunch of faggots were executed and poof, they’re gone. Forever gone, with only a fallen body left to defend any blip of existence. I pondered this, I don’t want to be another dead body just sitting there, rotting. Christ, just the thought of me rotting sickens me, seriously just burn me or some shit but don’t let me rot, I’m not an apple.
2). He goes on to say, “As Indian children, we were expected to fail in the non-Indian world” (1998, p. 2). As others were revered in the community and pitied outside of it for failing, he persevered, refusing to fail. This intestinal fortitude would shape him into the man he was to become.
Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.
When I was extended seven feet above the ground, I knew we had succeeded. My two bases were in front of me and my backspot was behind me. I heard the familiar counts of my backspot “one, two, three, four”, I bounced and pushed myself up into my bases waiting hands, “five, six, seven, eight”, I straightened as my bases lifted me up to chest level. I locked my knees and stayed tight. I put on a smile and looked ahead. I felt my backspot release her hold on my ankles. I heard her voice once again, “extension, one, two, three, four”, I brought my hands down to my sides and focused on staying tight as I slowly rose, “five, six, seven, eight. I was all the way up. Then a few moments later I heard the counts as they brought me to chest level then back down to the ground. We had done it, we had hit the stunt and did an extension.
Five months later David get a call from the hospital to tell him his results an he came back positive he drop the phone an cried he was in rage he put a hole in the wall at his house broke his television. He pray to god an ask him questions why me I haven't done nothing wrong but be good to her an make her life easy in this world. Then the test result for his child it was positive that it was his baby he was happy about that couldn't wait to see his health child of his Kelly calls him an ask forgiveness he tells her right now I can't talk to you disgust me at this time. But he told her the results for their child was his he ask why you put me through all of this only thing I wanted to do is to love you be
“Casey, your group needs to do the stunt one more time!” coach said imprudently. It happened March 26, 2015; it was at the end of a two hour practice. During the summer months in South Georgia, it is utterly hot and humid, especially in our cheer gym (a warehouse with no air conditioner); it only has two heavy-duty fans and a roll-up door. With this in mind, my group became slightly irritated. Everyone was exhausted; nevertheless we still had to do the stunt anyway.
Throughout the conversation, Susan did not inform me that the home was still in First Look and not open to investors at this time. Susan did not highlight any features of the home, nor did she talk about the neighborhood or the surrounding area. When asked, Susan paused to reference the property file and stated, "In looking at the pictures it appears that it needs interior paint, carpet, appliances, and a few windows, which the previous seller must have taken." She stated, "I don't know why they have to remove things from the homes." I asked, "Do you have offers?" She paused to check the property file and answered, "No offers." I asked, "Is the property behind the home farmland?" She paused to reference the property file and replied, "It appears
I didn’t learn how to read until 2ed grade.Beacuse parents divorced my dad would take me to school some days and my mom would take me others. Little did I know my mom would drink and get high after I went to bed at night. In the morning she would sleep in with a hangover so I got dressed and ready on my own. She would not wake till 11:00 so I would play dolls and watch cartoons all morning. Because of this, I missed about 30% of grades K-3. In 3ed grade me and my dad and stepmom learned of my moms addiction. I stopped seeing my mom for a long time. During that time I discovered the joy of reading. I started later than the others so I ended up at a low reading level but once I learned to read, well, I never stopped.Stories are
Culture shapes our identity and influences our behaviors. Living in California has been an open-minded journey for me because of diverse cultures, lifestyles, and people’s thought. Although, I learned to adopt the positive of a new culture and abandon the negative ones. It seemed like I could easily lose my cultural identity while I am accepting a new culture. However, After I took the class I even feel a greater appreciation on my own race, ethnicity and culture. I think my identity will never change. I will always consider myself as a Chinese because my own culture has shaped me into who I am no matter where I live and whom I married to.
Life really doesn't like to tell you what's ahead; sometimes it's nice and gives you a little hint, sometimes life replays itself so at least there's some familiarity in it, but most of the time my life seems out of my control. As a fifteen year old many people would hear me say this and scoff saying I don't have 'real' problems, or I don't know what the 'real' world is like. On one hand they're right, I shouldn't know what the 'real' world is like, most fifteen year olds are thinking about what picture they Instagram is a 'real' world problem. But being the not-so-average teenager, I do know what this so called 'real' world is.
Pulling into the parking lot was a lot more nerve racking than I thought. I could feel my body shaking from head to toe; trying to remind myself to take deep breaths. This was the first time I wasn’t playing in the game, and I had anxiety just like every spectator had for my team. Everyone, including me, was rooting for us to win, and I didn’t want to disappoint. It had to be 90 degrees that day, because I could feel the sweat dripping down my face as if I had just run a marathon. My nerves didn’t help either, because it just made me sweat even more. When I grabbed the handle to open the door, my hand almost slid off because they were so sweaty. My friend’s dad grabbed it, and opened it for me. After I walked in I was handed a yellow and black brochure that said “Seton Academy” in big bold black letters. I found my name listed inside next to all the 8th graders on my team. It was St. Agnes vs. Marsh, and it was going to be an exhilarating game. We had worked hard all season to stay undefeated, which led us to the opportunity to play in the championship that day. I walked into the gym which was about 10 degrees hotter than outside, because of the extra bodies stacked closely together, and that’s when it started.
i apologized about this , I didn't realize it was that many hours he, but I know there would be some over time this week we had couple of incident , the day we had to do Eric and ken write-up I had him site in both , also the Sunday training added to it , he also went over Tuesday when we did the Ops meeting , this is not the norm I will keep the hours in check
Something Out of Nothing…. I always thought that something was missing in my life, especially in my youth. However, I would never take the time to find out what it was. I guess you could say that I was distracted by outside opinions which I allowed to root inside me. As a child, my self-esteem was basically none existent and I stuttered badly. I can remember being laughed at in class when being called on to read and even seeing the teacher holding back her laughter. The thing that hurt the most was when the teacher told me that I wasn’t going to amount to much when I grow up. Not knowing at that time how to use to those words as fuel to push me to prove her wrong, instead I allowed it to hinder me and to fester in my mind. I was enrolled in remedial classes