Rejection

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxp7Ir6xSYY

Lies

     Being lied to can be like a knife piercing an innocent heart. It brings pain that is unslakable, unshakable, indescribably hard to explain. similar to answering a child's questions after they ask 'why' hundreds and thousands of times. The first couple of answers can be answered quite easily, but after the twentieth or thirtieth time it gets harder and harder to take. Almost like weight of lies compressing them; pounding them down lower and lower until they finally flatten; finally realize that they cant take this anymore; finally noticing that what is happening, this time, will not break them.
But what if those lies are meant for good intentions? Where is the line between little-white lie and unnecessary? Is that line thin or thick? under what circumstances can you lie to someone, And who determines weather you can or can not?
Lying is a pretty big deal. To me, in anyone's situations, there should be a level of comfort. That level should determine everything. If I just met someone, I wouldn't tell them or give them some of the things that i would my closest friends. Example, recently I gave Michelle and certificate of something that I'm not exactly going to mention now, simply because that is irrelevant. But i would not give that certificate whose name is irrelevant to a complete stranger. Just like I'm not going to lie to someone that trust me. Of course some people may think that there should be some situations were they can lie to someone, and i agree completely. I believe that in a life or death situation, if that person's life was in danger, than they may lie to that person to protect them.
I'm not even going to explain what i think about jokes because I think that anyone can most definently lie (if they are Joking) unless the prank is going to ruin the victim's life forever and always.

High School

       Being a teenager sounds horrifying enough, but some adults may forget how many obstacles and triumphs we may come across. Some people genius enough to breeze through high school with a 3.0 GPA or even higher. Some people are considered average meaning they may slip here and there, but they know how to pick up their grades. And some people struggle to keep a 2.5. High school students can have a hard time academically for many different reasons. Home problems, Social problems, or even mental problems.
       I am academically struggling because i never studied in middle school. I never attempted to even pick up a text book unless it was for homework. All of my days of school work, i have heard you have to study, you have to study, you have to study and i never really listened. When i was coming into freshman year all of the sophomores said that not studying really hurt them. At first i didn't listen, but now I am quickly realizing, they were right. By now I am afraid that it is too late. I am all ready wounded. Now that i know i have to study, I have trouble with Studying. I don't know how to study.
       Along with the problems of high school comes the accomplishments. For three College credit i took a class called TCMN (Telecommunications) 171. There the teacher prepared us to direct your own commercial. I thought that it was going to be really easy at first,but when I seen all of the things that happen behind the scene, it was like nothing i have ever seen before. Every little thing that you see or hear is stored into a hard drive and then processed into a picture/ video. From there the item(s) are downloaded to the line up onto the switcher. There the switcher has to very timely transfer the item to on air. I was pretty freaked out. To make the whole production of a 3 min interview happen there needs to be at least ten people doing ten different things. Surprisingly I passed the class with a B+.
       No matter the person, everyone wants to be or do something. Whether its the most pathetic or world changing. For me, after I graduate, i want to go to Cedarville university or Cornerstone university and get my

Bullying

          Cyber bullying is a world-wide issue that is sweeping across the nation. Children bullying others just because of their differences. Does it make it right? Just because the computer screen hides the face of the culprit. Just because that person can not get in trouble for something that they clearly did, should still have guilt shredding that persons conscious like an alligator tearing a gazelle. And if guilt no longer lingers in your soul, I am saying that this is not the nicest way possible, that person is one messed up person. Some children go home and play around on Facebook  and they discover hatred all over their profile and if they have the power to over look the evil, then good for them because they know the difference between non-sense and truth. But if that person has problems on top of problems, on top of their dying mother and their alcoholic father who mistreats them. On top of all this, that Facebook page could be the the fire to light the fuse.
          Just because you can, does not mean that they should be able to ruin others lives. If I saw someone getting bullied, I probably would not do anything. Afterwords, I would try to comfort the victim, so that the person could feel wanted. I believe that just because someone can do something, does not mean that person should do it. This is because that person could be ripping apart someones life.

Why do people steal?

          What gives other people the right to take something that does not belong to them? The fact that people can take and keep the stolen objects is unacceptable. Imagine a bank taking a home away from someone. How could that family continue to survive on the streets? They will have to work twice a hard as for the food and shelter that they can acquire. How will that family maintain a car? Maybe they do not have a car and maybe they only work a mile away from there so called home. How will they keep a job? Without a job, society could be a harsh place to be. Who are these people? Who gave them the reason to take everything from people? Why do they continuously continue to take houses and cars away from their owners. So, the question is, how long will this non-sense last. 

Where would people want to spend the rest of your life?

        Many people thought about that one place they want to live and grow a family; and many have marched through cement to try to get there. Working long hours to keep a paycheck coming so they can get what they want, or settle for what they have. Some people from the start knows- the day they turn eighteen that they are going to one place or another. They know that, just like a child, they have to take baby steps to get to that one thing they want... the grand prize. And some people are like Pocahontas wanna be's and go where ever the wind blows. They want to see what is around the riverbend. If someone asked me where i wanted to live, i would simply say... "I'm not sure. I haven't traveled or seen all my possibilities." I would say " just .5 percent of my choices would be Mountain view, CA; Cederville, OH; Pittsburg; or Thessaloniki, Greece. My number one choice out of those would have to be Thessaloniki, Greece. I have never been there but in about 3 years im planning to visit just to see how i like it. I have seen pictures of the houses and streets of this place, but there is nothing like seeking a new adventure.

Hands by Sarah Kay

Hands

 Sarah Kay

People used to tell me that I had beautiful hands. Told me so often in fact that one day I started to believe them, until I asked my photographer father ‘hey daddy could I be a hand model? To which he said ‘No way!’. I don’t remember the reason he gave me, and I would’ve been upset but there were far too many stuffed animals to hold, too many homework assignments to write, too many boys to wave at to, many years to grow.

We used to have a game, my dad and I, about holding hands. Cause we held hands everywhere. And every time either he or I would whisper a great big number to the other, pretending that we were keeping track of how many times we had held hands. That we were sure this one had to be
8,002, 753.

Hands learn more than minds do. Hands learn how to hold other hands. How to grip pencils and mould poetry. How to tickle pianos, and dribble a basketball and grip the handles of a bicycle. How to hold old people and touch babies. I love hands like I love people. They are the maps and compasses with which we navigate our way through life. Some people read palms to tell you your future, but I read hands to tell your past. Each scar makes a story worth telling. Each callused palm, each cracked knuckle is a missed punch or years in a factory.

Now I’ve seen middle eastern hands clenched in middle eastern fists, pounding against each other like war drums. Each country sees their fists as warriors and others as enemies. Even if fists alone are only hands. But this is not about politics, no hands are not about politics.

This is a poem about love, and fingers. Fingers interlock like a beautiful zipper of prayer. One time I grabbed my dad’s hand so that our fingers interlocked perfectly. But he changed position saying “No, that hand hold is for your mum!”
Kids high-five, but grown ups shake hands.
You need a firm handshake,
but don’t hold on too tight,
but don’t let go too soon,
but don’t hold them for too long.
But hands are not about politics. When did it become so complicated? I always thought it was so simple. The other day my Dad looked at my hands as if seeing them for the first time and with laughter behind his eyelids, and with all the seriousness a man of his humour could master he said “You know you’ve got nice hands, you could’ve been a hand model!” 

And before the laughter can escape me i shake my head at him and squeeze his hand 8,002,754.