Personal Narrative: Take Down VBS

It was record breaking temperatures on this July 4th day. Red, white, and blue filling up the stands. Fans and umbrellas protecting spectators from the heat of the sun. It was about game time and I was getting ready to take the field for the last home game. Butterflies in my stomach, but I had to tell myself “it’s just another game”. Even though in my heart I knew it was not just another game.

Bare with me for another blog post about volleyball. This weekend was the Badger Region Volleyball Tournament, which my team participated in. When I walked into the building, the memories flooded in with scenes from the elevator adventures, cheese fries, and design your own sweatshirts. The first day, my team didn't play up our full potential, with my team only winning one out of three matches; which meant that we didn't place in any of the brackets, meaning zero chance of receiving a medal. However, at the end of the second match, I got switched from being middle all-around to libero ( a position where you only play back row on offense and defense). I guess it's an honor, but it puts a lot of pressure on me by labeling me as the best passer

When I was in 6th grade I tried out for O.V.A. (volleyball) for the first time. From doing it I learned that when you put your heart into something you will accomplish it.

On a three-one pitch to lead off the third inning I received a fastball right down the middle of the plate. After making solid contact with my bat, the ball turned right back around heading for the left field fence and cleared it by twenty feet. This resulted in my first home run of the season and possibly the farthest ball I ever hit. Although I enjoy many other hobbies, baseball outshines them all.

The reason i started painting and drawing in the first place is i found that i am truly happiest when creating. I thoroughly enjoy the struggle of drawing and painting scenes or ideas created through imagination. Creating art was never about money to me, it was about seeking happiness and a sense of purpose.

What ferocious brute inhibits rage within oneself? Temper is such a malicious tumor that grows inside. Its wicked intents serve to destroy and it makes me wonder, does abhorrence live within the core or is it a virus that strikes like cancer? When tempers flare and irritate the soul, death chews on what has yet to rot and sucks on the sweet juice. It leaves the dry and blistered remains, waiting patiently for the distraught spirit to come to its own terms.

There once was a story told of a girl who was so call it the “Perfect Debater.” She was fierce, confident, knowledgeable, and she understood how to get people to listen. But in life, no one is actually that perfect. Her only downfall was that she was ruthless and she defended her territory at all cost, her opponent never got to mumble a single word. As I learned in the leadership program, we call this person “The Competing One.” These are the individuals who only pursue their own concerns at their opponent expense, using whatever power seemed appropriate. Well then there’s me, I fall in with the competing ones, the one who is said to be self-absorbed and sometimes ruthless.

After I told rowdy that “I'm sick of indian guys who treat white women like bowling trophies”.Get a life.I kinda felt bad for what I said but then again i didn't because he was a trader and i felt as if he left me for white pride.maybe I was just racist and couldn't accept that my best friend was going to do great things is his life now that he had a chance.later that day i decided to email Junior back and kinda talk to him about women.”Hey asshole , i didn't mean to insult you..but dude really what do you really like about her and how did you attract her.junior replied and said.

One should stay within its limits since I also know, how to fire. One should stay within its limits since I also know, how to fire.

"Are you sure?" These were the words the 8 year old version of me first heard after coming home from my grandparent's house. When I was younger, I spent most of my time with my father's parents. Both of mine worked, and we needed someone to babysit. Whether it be in politics or behavior, they are the epitome of being conservative; however, My mother is quite a bit more liberal. I grew up listening to the likes of Bill O'Reilly and Glenn Beck at my grandparents, and I would often come home to repeat their extremely conservative message. "Are you sure?" were always the words my mother would say to me. These words usually defeated an 8 year old me, but it is now the cue to start a friendly debate. I have grown to be much more like her since I

Within the databases of Norton Headquarters, a single text file is kept with considerable security. A humiliating incident in which a virus completely annihilated it’s host computer while under Norton’s protection, and only was prevented from spreading by the host’s destruction. Other than the CEO of Norton Enterprises, the only other being that is informed about the situation is the victim; me, Ace.

I was all bruised up and I had my broken glasses in my hand some blood on my nose I was kind of crying but trying to keep inside of me and we were looking at eachother like if we were friends I was really confused like what is happening and my comes and she smiles and says if i'm ok I realized i wasn't in trouble.

Overall, that week did not turn out how I wanted it to. I missed my junior year of tennis sectionals, that I had spent all season preparing for, and homecoming was approaching. The thought of missing sectionals and homecoming devastated me. This lead to multiple grumpy mornings, afternoons and evenings.

I wrote the worst book ever when the world was crashing and more people than ever before in history were committing suicide.

I opened my eyes and smashed the snooze button that woke me up. "Another day of being fake." I said as I scooted out from my bed. I grabbed a pair of boxers and my towel and headed for the bathroom. I turned on the lights and stopped dead in my tracks as I noticed the enormous bruise that formed under my ribs. Nobody knows this, but my dad is an alcoholic and loves to beat the crap out off me, but I've grown use to it because this has been happening since my mother passed away which was when I was twelve years old.