Personal Narrative: Stay At Open Gate

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 never thought I would be labeled an outsider, a misfit even. As I trudged my way through the halls of my small town high school, I would endure the gazing pairs of eyes, that belonged to my peers, followed by whispering and often times some laughter. I always used zone out during those repetitive speeches and commercials about the effects of gossiping and rumors; never did I imagine that one day I would be on the receiving end of of the everyday potshot. Growing up I was always the center of attention, the one everyone yearned to be friends with, never was I the antisocial child in the corner with nowhere to turn… not until high school. They say high school changes you. They say high school accounts for some of the greatest years of

Ever since I was little, I felt like an outsider. I would like them but not so typical boy things and be more interested in doing my mom’s hair or play in her make up. At that age, I did not know what it was and kids would not understand it either. When I was in the sixth grade I realized what it was, what made me feel different from everyone else. That is when I accepted the fact I was gay and came out to my parents. In addition, when I came out I got pushed into being outsider, not really knowing where I belong. Most of the kids that age did not know how to deal with something different so it was hard for me to find somewhere to go. I was encompassed in between two groups, the boys and the girls. I adore doing things typically a girl to do

Hi iam Edgardo Flores i was born in casa grande, az not that far away from our state capital,Phoenix, Az.theres nothing better to do in a hot summer than going out with the friends to a lake and have a blast riding jet skis boats and my favorite, swimming!My activites of the day are shooting,riding horses,and my favorite one is quad riding.Thats right! ive been doing these fun exciting hobbies since i was 9 years old.pretty young huh?

Get me out of here. I know something is about to happen, I feel it in my gut. It's a setup for failure, really. A party at an estranged house on the edge of the city full of nothing but intoxicated and incapacitated teens. Something is bound to go down. I started to think of ways to get out without just bluntly saying it.

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

A time someone used “get-my-way” tricks would be when my friend, Payton would help me, but that always came at a price. For example, Payton would offer me rides to school without me asking then when she wanted something she would remind me that she gives me rides to school then making me feel obligated to help her out. While, I never asked her for rides to school she manipulated me into feeling like I owed her something. Every time Payton would do this I knew what she was doing, but I also hated riding the bus so I would help her out even though she thought she was manipulating me. Now looking at the situation it would have been smarter to not help her out because I constantly felt like I owed her something when I knew I didn’t owe her anything.

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 chose to break the norm of either smiling at strangers or giving them a neutral look when you make eye contact. I decided to give every stranger I passed a confused look like they had just spoken to me in another language. I must admit, this made me feel a bit goofy. I was on the fence as to whether or not to do this in the first place but I decided I just had to. The responses I received were quite comical. A few people asked if I was alright, and one person even asked if I had a problem with them.

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

If I'm in...I'll be All-In. While I'll be the first of family and friends to attend the University of Colorado, Boulder and unsure of the challenges within the campus community, I know myself. I am at my best when I fully commit.

For the last six years, I have been given the opportunity to competitively show jump. Competing has taught me a variety of lessons, including how to manage my commitments. Five times a week, I spend three hours at the barn, and throughout the year I spend various weekends competing. Though I wouldn’t rather be doing anything else, it doesn’t leave me with much spare time at the end of the night. Throughout the years, I have learned how to manage my social life, school work, and riding. I quickly realized that even though coming home from the barn at eight p.m and playing rock band until two a.m is way more exciting than doing homework for the rest of the night, that plan of action wasn’t going to do me any good. As a result of my past mistakes

If I were to be able to take, one book, one food item, and one famous person, dead or alive, with me on a deserted island; I would take Where The Sidewalk Ends, by Shel Silverstein, a GIANT bag of broccoli, and Ben Domian, an Air Force Reserve Survivalist. I would guess that this deserted Island would have trees with fruit in them or coconut trees. I would also assume that the person I had chosen to bring with me, they would have the same three options, except they would have to choose me to go with them since they were already chosen. That being said, they would be able to bring food as well to sustain themselves and a book for entertainment. If we were to combine our resources, we would be able to survive until help comes. Compiling our resources could also mean that when we finish our book we could switch and read each other's books.

Let me start this story off with a question. Have you ever entered a room with some undoubtful reason, then completely forget why you are there in the first place? There's more to it, and I think I might have cracked the code with an explanation like no other, proven by the human eye itself. Have you ever felt an itch on your body, as if something was crawling under your skin, but find nothing after searching? Well, I am starting to figure it out, last question. Have you ever became extremely disoriented and felt as if the entire world was slipping beneath your feet? Well, enough with the questions, lets get started with the story itself.

On June 4, I died. Well, metaphorically speaking. Let me rephrase that— I was reborn.