Personal Narrative: Smoke On The Horizon Of Life

you shoveled it in, and you shoveled it out. You spread it with your fork, and you'd go up this and back this. Up that, and back this and up that, and back this until you get the ground covered. Now, they take a tractor with four or five plows on the back, and plowed it ten miles an hour. At that time, you would have one plow to lay the ground over and plow it. It took three horses. You'd make two rounds and then the rest the horses for five minutes. Then you'd make two more rounds. That would only move you over about ten inches each round. Now, they do 20 acres a day, easy. It's a different world.

I think that my family realized that I had crossed the threshold between childhoods when I began to form my own opinions. This first took hold when I took part in poverty stimulation at my local shelter. I was giving a character and a story behind the card I was given; the story made me become emotionally attached to this name I had been assigned and the family in which I came from. The experience made me question the prejudice of the society I was living in. How many times had I avoided eye contact with the people on the side of the road begging for money? I began a long journey of soul searching and questioning the beliefs my parents had raised me on. My thoughts were continually brought back to a book by C.S Lewis, it was called Out of the Silent Planet; a character named Weston believed that individual human lives don’t matter, they must be sacrificed to save mankind.

Please, oh please let the words come. I sit, and stare, and type, and I backspace. No one will like it. My work is crap. Crap, crap, crap. I crumple my paper watch it fall. The clock taunts with its ticking reminding me of all I want to forget. It creates a beat; a song. Poetic chords and dismal notes ring in my ears. But no, this is thought I should avoid. I am great- better than great. People will love this. Oh please, please, please let them love this. Will my legacy amount to nothing more than abysmal hope? This is the last time I think of it. Oh please don’t let me think of it. The blank page stares at me and I begin to write. One word, then another, then another, and another. You will never know what comes out onto the page until it is

You know that moment when you’re trying to reach the toilet paper but can't quite, then fall and kill yourself on a pumpkin? Yeah I know that feeling… it’s not good. It all started one very normalish day at 1065 Fitzgerald Ave.

I have been in the Marine Corps for roughly three and a half years and throughout that time I have done many things. Most of the things that I have done were with Combat Logistics Battalion 26. For three years, I worked with that unit through work ups and a deployment and I have seen and done many unique things. However, nothing I did with CLB 26 felt fulfilling, but that all changed when I changed units to CLB 8.

Walking away from everything you once knew and starting over is never a picnic. Leaving Iraq, and moving to America has impacted my life more than anything. I was only 4 years old at that time, and the only English I spoke was “excuse me, water please.” My family and I did not know it then, but our lives were going to change; we would become “Americanized”. Learning English was one of the massive changes that occurred, the way I dressed (culture), and even the way I had power to go to school and educate myself.

This little scene was written as a response to a fanfic meme where NN wished for a scene with the Master, River Song and spanking and FF River Song and something kinky. In effect this is a missing scene from Sliding Down the Razorblades of Life and follows directly after the second chapter, Mid-Term. However, you don’t have to read the fic, just keep in mind that the Master has just told River that if she slaps him one more time she will get a good spanking. Guess what her response to that is?

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

Go back to a time, when smart phones, and laptop were as thick history textbooks. To a time when a whole gallon of gas cost a little more than a dollar. The year is 1998 and in this year I was born. I was given to a very loving mother and father, that with their extraordinary love gave me the unextraordinary name of David. I grew up in the wonderful city of El Paso, Texas.

I sat there with my legs crossed for hours. The tingly numbness rose up from my toes to the top of my spine. Hours of nothingness. Hours of staring at a blank sheet of paper. Hours of complete and utter silence. Then, it began. My pencil, which was previously silent, began to speak. The shapes flowed out no real meaning. No sense just movement. I began to move my pencil with brisk movements. Soft and then brisk once more. Switching the colors once, twice, and then again. Shading, blending, redrawing, and repeat. Over and over again as the colors flowed out and told me something that I wasn't expecting, completion.

Our story begins as I am picked up from GMB. Keep in mind that in order to be hired by them you need to be in physical shape and no disabilities of any kind. So you're basically their toy. For example an assassination of someone very important.You are used to do their dirty work and in return you get nothing. Alright so as soon as I step out of my house i'm rushed by men in black suits. I am already well aware that it was GMB coming at me so as I am a highly trained for situation like this I fought back hoping I would make it out alive but as i'm thinking this I get hit in the back of the head and i'm out.

Six consecutive second place, Science Fair trophies sit in the deepest, darkest, most isolated place in my house... my closet. Upon entering the closet, I’m automatically overwhelmed with a horrifying stench, a mixture of plastic, metal, and disappointment, also known as second place. Once the scent enters the nasal cavity, it immediately calls war upon the cerebellum, attacking strongly and injuring the motor cortex, thus creating a chill to run through my body, leaving me powerless and without words. After the chill, next follows the noise. Mockingly congratulates me, whispering “great job, you almost had it,” oh the humanity; “second place” repeatedly echoes in my ear until I escape the closet.

I enjoy writing and editing, and I like The Wake’s unblinking eye. In all seriousness though, writing is a passion of mine, and there’s nothing more satisfying than making the writing as clean as possible. It is for these basic but essential reasons that I am applying for the Managing Editor and Copy Editor positions.

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

I am so humbled to have been a part of such a huge production and event this past weekend in West Palm Beach, FL. I Co Produced the first ever A Concert for Humanity benefit concert, benefiting the amazing charity Wells of Life. Did you know? every 21 seconds a child dies from drinking contaminated water. The Incredible team and I put together a concert to bring awareness to this and I have to say, we kicked ass. We got the Grammy Nominated NEEDTOBREATHE to fly out and put on the concert of a lifetime. 5 (short) weeks of hard work, planning, studying and preparing we were able to bring it all together. There were many highlights of my weekend, talking with the creators of Wells Of Life, meeting to many selfless people, hanging with the band,