Pinball Journal Entry

As I slowly press my foot down on the brake, my car comes to a rolling stop in front of my best friend Talia’s house. Talia sits silently beside me in the passenger seat. I turn the car off, dreading the upcoming painful goodbye. Slamming our car doors, we walk along her cracked driveway towards her front door. Somehow, it was easy for me to relate to the broken, torn up concrete. I gaze at the jagged stones sadly, knowing I wouldn’t be seeing them for months.

“Woop woop!” went the police car “Hot cheese!” I yelled as I started to back away from the store ‘God why did I do that’ I muttered to myself as I dropped the rock and ran away for the broken glass then I ran as fast as I could faster than I have ever ran. I can't go back, I can't go back I thought to myself as i was slipping through the barb wire of a field of grass, miles and miles of long uncut grass so I ran in the grass that was taller than me as I was running I found a hole, bigger than me, once again and I went for it “It'll have to do for now” I said to myself while I was crawling in the dark musty damp hole in the ground “sheesh this thing could fit a bear in it, maybe even five” suddenly a deep grunt came from behind me “Oh @#%&!”

Lady Macbeth from Shakespeare’s play Macbeth is introduced as an incredulously ambitious woman who will do whatever it takes to seize the crown for Macbeth. However, towards the end of the play she begins to feel guilty as well as paranoid as a result from her ambitious actions. For example, at the beginning of the play she lets ambition lead her actions and delves into supernatural powers to make herself cruel as well as without remorse when preparing for the murder of King Duncan: “Come you spirits … /Of direst cruelty/Make thick my blood/stop up the access and passage to remorse,”(I, v, 41-46). Lady Macbeth is aware of her morality in the beginning and understands that in order to complete this sinful deed, she must rid herself from feeling guilt. Her actions of calling upon evil spirits shows her brutality and determination of achieving more power even if it does corrupt her morality and mental state in the future. The ambition and desire for power she carries in the

It is early October, the final weekend of the mountain biking season at Northstar Ski Resort. I am waiting to load my bike onto the lift. There are long lines for everything, because the place is packed. Riders rocket down the mountain, sending cinnamon colored dust into the air. A breeze blows this across the hills. The trees are green, and the afternoon sun warms the ground. The time of day makes it a bit chilly. The metallic noise of bikes can be heard, but not always seen. The sound of both joy and pain fills the air around me. I can smell only the wonderful scents of trees and overpriced food. I suddenly feel a nudge on my shoulder.

I’d skidded to a stop, my left sneaker just barely missing the front spokes. I hadn’t touched it. I hadn’t even really breathed on it, I don’t think, yet the cycle began to teeter. Wobble. To tremble and to shake apart. One minute it was an aluminum road racer the next a heap of tiny gears and cogs littering the pavement. I’m not exactly sure why, but I think it was my fault.

I walked over to the garage with tears filling my eyes unsure if I should do it. My feet felt like they were made of concrete, each step getting heavier and heavier. The thirty second walk felt like thirty years.Stepping foot into the cement-floored garage, I saw the little white box across the room on an old crooked wooden chair. I arrived to the designation that I wished was never in my navigation system, debating if I should just make a u-turn. I knew that it would only cause me more pain so I just stared at the box. As I brushed my hand on top of the bumpy box, I hoped that nothing would be in there. I kept wishing it would all be a joke. When I lifted the cover, a sharp pain stabbed my heart. “If only it was a joke”, I thought to myself as the familiar taste of salt burnt my tongue.

I think i found my destination. Sheer magnitude of energy arose from my body. I felt unreal. Seriously. Have you ever stop and question your existence. Who am i and why am i here? Detachment and utter numbness of “reality”. This anomalous out-of-body experience rush must means this is the end me? “ Mike i have to go to the hospital i think i'm dying.” I said panicking at my inner experience. I was an onlooker of this universe - at least it seemed. “ Brenda please relax, youre not dying. and stop crying!” he said as he walked me to his car. “ come on, I am going to take you to my house.” . From this moment i knew this isn't what i wanted to

It was a bright sunny summer day when I stepped outside of my friend’s house. As I hopped on my bike and began to pedal, harder than usual, I began to groan as I peered down at my front tire and saw that it was flat. So then I jumped off my bike and grumply began to walk home. As I was walking I noticed something unusual, two men in suits, one in front and one behind me and as I began to think of a way out of this terrifying mess, a black van pulled drove up screeching against the side of the curb with its wheels and before I knew it the same men following me had put a black bag over my head and they tossed me in the van.

Recently it has occurred to me, that I am finally free from the shackles of fear and its hold on me, that this might be the end of the trail. Nonetheless, the sense that suffering is chasing me weighs down any notions of comfort or relief, frankly because my valley was once no different than the peak, just as safe and appealing. And so I moved in life, the trail never ended. The same pebbles remained unmoved, the same voices and sounds, everything was the same. Remarkably, the further I climbed, the more my perspective changed drastically, shifting my perception of moments and bonds that I developed with others into everlasting memories. Wounds seem to have healed. Gradually the valley below began resembling a gem with undeniable beauty contradicted

I slop through the mud, moving damp chunks of ash from the ground to the back of the truck. I continue this repetitive motion until it becomes innate, not slowing to consider the actions of my body. My mind drifts to thoughts of some far away place. A place I often visit to comprehend the incomprehensible, to piece together pieces that never really fit, and to explain the unexplainable. It’s a place where nothing makes sense yet everything is calm.

I was telling John to go home with me but he didn’t want to” We rode our longboards down Hayley’s bumpy and rocky road, which made it impossible to ride a longboard. When we started to get to the road that wasn’t very bumpy and rocky it was much easier for me. When I got to my street, I was going so fast. The road was smooth as the texture of silk, the air was blowing my hair as if I was riding a motorcycle. The wind must have been speaking to me at that moment which made it a magical. The sun was going downwhich made a gorgeous sunset as if it were being painted. The houses seemed as if they were flying by fast. I felt like I wasn’t the one controlling my longboard, it felt as if the longboard had a mind of its own. I was so happy at the moment, I was proud of myself for learning how to ride a longboard.

As time seemed to slow down around me, I saw things I never thought I’d see. Because of our speed, I saw how the tail end of our car would swing out far enough to hit the small hatchback, injuring the mother and teenager in the front seats. I also saw the bullet fired from the NYPD police cruiser behind us, the glass from the passenger window seemingly floating in mid-air, as it just barely missed my lifelong “friend.” But as time around me slowed, I did the worst thing possible; I thought.

As my car climbed the hill, my heart sunk into my stomach. I parked as far away from my friends as I could and quickly exited the car, not once looking at them. Now it was every man for himself. Emerging into the open air, I suddenly became aware of myself. I could feel my puffy, blood-shot eyes. My palms became slimy. My fingers clinched into a fist and my nails dug into my skin. My sight blurred and my tunnel of vision tried to focus on the front door. Every step seemed more awkward than the last. Eyes pierced me from all sides. I felt naked. My body trembled like a sheep in the midst of wolves.

Empathy is extraordinarily important for children to understand and eventually put into practice, as it exercises their ability to feel and respect the emotions of other people. Empathy also plays a big role in trust and support- both of which are very important aspects of any relationship, and is necessary for living a healthy, functional life in today’s society. In her article, Dovey describes “A 2011 study published in the Annual Review of Psychology […] showed that, when people read about an experience, they display stimulation within the same neurological regions as when they go through that experience themselves.” (Dovey par. 11). This means that when people, or in this case, children, read stories, their brains react as if they were going through the same situations and emotions that they read about. This is a great way for kids to learn about empathy, why it’s important, and how to apply it to their own lives. One may argue that, while reading may trigger empathetic feelings in the majority of people, those who enjoy reading have greater empathetic tendencies than others, making reading to teach empathy only applicable to those who like to read and have these higher-than-average tendencies. Dovey also addresses this, stating that “other studies published in 2006 and 2009 showed […] that people who read a lot of fiction [tended] to be better at empathizing with others (even after the researchers had accounted for the potential bias that people with greater empathetic

Supply chain risk management is an intersection of supply chain management and risk management. For this we need to understand the benefits and as well as the limitations of both the concepts. Supply chain risk is about any threat of interruption in the order of workings of the supply chain. This Risk is generated as result of risk ‘drivers’ that are internal or external to the company or the practitioner.