dreams- one chance

Most books have happily ever after endings. Most books just
wrap up the whole story making us happy, yet much easier for us to forget them.
Then there are those special ones that don’t end the way we want them to end. They
leave us fighting with the author about it, yet they leave us thinking.

In a book I read, called “Seventeenth summer” by Maureen Daly, Angie
falls in love with jack in the summer. She has to go to college in Chicago and
Jack has to go to Oklahoma by the end of summer.

Through the beginning of the book everything seemed great, but as it got
near the end of summer, I started thinking for and fighting with Angie. I wouldn’t
let her think about going to college and leaving Jack. I wanted her to leave everything
for her first love because it seemed as if she would have been happy for the rest
of her life with him.

Yet, before I read this book, I told my mother that no man will make me
give up college. That made her happy since she gave up college herself for my
father. She has lost an experience that she can no longer get, but she gives me
a chance to enjoy what she never did.

Angie too, promised her mother she would go to college. I think that’s
why she didn’t leave the idea. Also, maybe the love she felt was not strong enough.
It may have looked strong enough to me, yet it might have differed for her.

At first the ending made me angry for a whole week. I didn’t believe
Angie made the right choice. But, after thinking it over, I knew that she had not
made the wrong choice. She had made herself happy by going for her dreams. Dreams
that do not give a second chance and love always have second chances. She had
made her parents happy as well.

The books that end with no “happily ever after” can be more negative but actually
teach more about life. In life, we have to give up something for something
else. There’s always death and violence in between. And I believe it’s good for
teens to start learning that life won’t be easy. Life isn’t easy.

parents make mistakes too

I never thought we, the teenagers, would learn from our
parents mistakes. Not the mistakes they did in the past and tell us to not
follow, but the mistakes they are making now. In fact, it never occurred to me
that there will be a time when we will stop trying to be as beautiful, mature
and high spirited as our parents are.

In Ms.Robbins book club I read What I Saw And How I Lied by
Judy Blundell. Evie and her parents moved to Florida after her father returned
from World War 2. Evie meets Peter, who served for her father’s company in the
war, and falls for him.

Evie feels like her mother is the intruder in her
relationship with peter. But then she finds out that she herself was the
intruder.

Evie’s mother did not just make a mistake that only affected
her and her marriage but it affected her daughter. Without knowing it, she was
hurting her daughter and I don’t think those were her intentions. She created a
problem on herself but made it everyone’s problem.

I guess that’s wrong with mistakes. They hurt not just you
but everyone around you. They are things that can be stopped with just a little
will and push, but ones we do them we have no control over them anymore. Because
ones we create the mistake we cannot go back and stop them from happening.

At first Evie wanted to be just as beautiful as her mother. Her
mother was perfect in Evie’s eyes. She tried everything. She tried to be
mature, wear nice dresses, and put on makeup. She tried to have a man and be
fun, but it got her nowhere. Instead she found out that her “seems as perfect”
mother was less beautiful than she could imagine.

My mother always tells me to not do the same mistakes she
did in the past. Like become pregnant in my teens, choosing not to go to
college even though I have the opportunity etc. I know she was not perfect back
then, but I never thought that she was not perfect now.  When I asked her what mistakes she has had in
the last year, she did not hide them. Instead, she told me straightforward that
she had done many mistakes in her friendships, job and even in her marriage.

I understood that we all are still like kids no matter how
old we are. All, parents and children’s, make mistakes everyday and learn from
them. I will still be making mistakes in 30 years but not the same ones. They
will be different because we learn from our mistakes.

mothers stop being mothers

Women become mothers the minute a tiny human cell forms
inside. Mothers become lovers the minute they love their baby. Lovers
become killers the second they sign the form to have their child unwind.

Most people in the book I’m reading, unwind by Neal Shusterman
believe that it’s alright to have their child unwind, killed painlessly and
given their body parts to people who need it just because the law says it’s alright.
The law states from ages of 13 and 18 you can have your child unwind and really
your child won’t be dead because his body parts will still be working.

But I say that not even parents have that much control over
us. They can bus us around, they can scream at us but they can never choose to
have us killed or unwind. We are our owners when it comes to life and death.

And are we truly alive when our body parts are still working?
I believe that all people have a soul.  “It
is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a
man,”

It is us. The true us inside the body, the only thing no one
can reach, no one can kill. The one that is alive forever. But dead in the
world when it is separated from the body.

I believe we are really a soul taking a body and using it
till it dies and rots, or when it is killed. And we cannot be alive without
that body.

What I don’t understand and don’t want to understand is why
mothers will have their child unwind. They have passed through 9 months of pregnancy,
13 or more years of care and still that’s not enough. If the kids such a problem,
like stealing or doing drugs mothers should reason with it. They could help the
child, because as grownups mothers know how it felt to be a teen. Mothers must
work hard and never give up. That’s why mothers are called mothers because they
care for us love us and will give up their own life for us.

They are the people who put us on track. Make sure we turn
out good adults. And most importantly love us. If mothers just unwind their kid
what will be he point of being called mothers.

I am thankful that my mother didn’t just have me to have me
unwind by age 13. I am thankful that she loves me and won’t ever choose to get
me killed. And I am thankful that she gives her own life for me.

So be thankful that your mother doesn’t want you unwind.

Romeo and juliet

Even though a lot people don’t focus on the setting
it’s still one of the most important in a book, even more important in a play
or movie. And it takes a lot of time to just find the right place. Because the
setting has to be many things at once. Somewhere there is a place just fit for
that story, like Verona is to Romeo and Juliet.

Somewhere there is a place that is both sexy and
hip. That fits with the play. That says “Oh yea, all of that could happen right
here,”

It will just look unrealistic and weird if the movie
was filmed in New York or anywhere in the United States since people are not openly
armed. In Mexico there are mostly poor people and few rich and violence occurred
all the time. It all goes with the story, making it realistic and attractive to
people.

I believe that the setting has a lot to say for the
story. It could be meaningful chosen closely and carefully. Sometimes it
defines the story. Like a romantic restaurant, anything could happen there, it
defines love. It gives us a hint that there’s going to be a romantic moment and
two lovers.  Or a made up fantasy world, without
it there are no made up creatures ect.

And the setting alone could make the story more
attractive to people. I found Verona quite interesting since ill never been
there. It was special because I have never seen those buildings or beach. And I
have never seen the big statue of Jesus.

And maybe the big statue of Jesus was a part of the
plan. Since in the movie the statue was shown a lot especially when dead
happened. Maybe this was one of the reasons they picked Verona, for its
beautiful statue that makes it more interesting to the people.

The statue of Jesus had a big part in the movie. It made
me feel like it was the end of everything. It defined the story, since some
characters (Romeo, priest, ect) believed in it. And some when they ones die
they go to heaven with Jesus. It also defined the wedding. Since it was marriage
with love. And when marring through church you are marring through Jesus.

It meant everything to the story. Since Jesus
approves love, he loves us and wants us to love everyone. He’s there when were
alive. He’s there when were dead. He’s even there when we commit sins. He must
have been there to watch Romeo and Juliet’s wedding and love. He must have been
there when they both took their lives away for each other.

The setting has a meaning in a book or movie. It has
a statue or object that defines the whole story. It either defines love, death,
hate, rivalry or simply friendship.

Love makes you do anything

There are only a few fantasy books that catch my eyes. One in
a million. And those who grab my attention are most likely romance too. Lips
touch was one of those books that caught my eye and made me read it. It’s one
of those books with romance (like) and goblins and curses (hate). Yet the romance
and the theme was all I needed to continue to finish the book.

One story was on a girl that was cursed with a spell, should
not speak or will kill the ones she loves. For love she stayed mute. For her
prince she stayed mute. She stayed mute. And even though when some people and
her guy tried to make her speak she didn’t speak. It would hurt them if she didn’t
speak, it will kill them if she does.  And
I love the way she cares more about her family and friends than using the gift
she was given, a beautiful voice. I love how she chose love. Love over the
curse, the devil.

Another girl longed for something better. Some love. And when
she got it, it will kill her.  Yet she doesn’t
care about her dying, she wants that love. She wants to feel love no matter the
cost of it. And then I think about true humans in our world, how some teenage
girls or women long for a man. No matter if he loves her or not. In her mind he
loves her. In his he is using her. And women do anything to get love. Anything.

It just proves that love can do anything. Either makes us
make the wrong decision or make us stay quiet for it.  I never thought about the wrong side of love. Just
the sweet love, kiss and a happily ever after. But I know this world is full of
wrong men or woman that are liars and use others for their own selfish reasons.
And when they tell you they love you, you try to convince yourself its true
because we long for that love that we never had.  A wrong love, but still love.

I just love learning about beautiful love and the love that
we should stay away from. And the title and cover of the books read love, love,
love, and more love all over it. The book called to me. Made me read it. And I’m
happy this was one of the few lucky books read by me.

my 3 mentors

My first mentor is titled “what if he hadn’t?” by Ben
Futterman.http://benselablog.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-if-he-hadnt.html His post had questions that bought me more into it. And his first paragraph caught people by including them. Something that I should get better at, because in my posts I just talk about myself. And still he also wrote about himself. Us and him, great post. And I love how he put a certain question in my head, “what if he hadn’t?” made his own theory and I made my own too.

My second
mentor is titled “as if they have control”by Audrey Bachman http://lostinreading.blogspot.com/2010/10/ten-thousand-rupees-1-girl.html. This post if packed with so much personality and meaning, and hate. And I just love how the readers know how Audrey
is feeling. All that shame and hate is completely shown in this book. She does this with repetition. Some people don’t have the power of writing a good post that includes repition that just sounds like it on and on and never stops. But her repetition shows her rage and makes up the whole post.

My last
mentor is “fly away home” by Kai Junn Lathrop. http://mrpancakemix.blogspot.com/2010/10/fly-away-home-mr-pancake-mixs-response.html?showComment=1297207976754#c5740946060745025103His poem is so true. Seems true.
And this true makes the reader love his post. And I love how Kai uses his ideas
and opinions on people who are living in poverty. It seems so true with the
story “fly away home” backing up his opinions. A post so true and voice. It’s a
deep post.

http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/exhibitions/fred_tomaselli/

As he comes to a stop

He watches the wonders

Small shiny rocks

With treasures inside

Rows and rows of trees

The fire breaks free

And up in the sky

Is a strong sun

Lighting and burning

Till can’t look no more

And up ahead it starts to explode

Magic spreads

And he as a bird

completes the beaty of this

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

As he comes to a stop

He watches the wonders

Small shiny rocks

With treasures inside

Rows and rows of trees

The fire breaks free

And up in the sky

Is a strong sun

Lighting and burning

Till can’t look no more

And up ahead it starts to explode

Magic spreads all over

And he as a bird watches this all

All beauty of the world

i am an immmigrant!

Immigrants in Our Own Land

by Jimmy Santiago Baca

We are born with dreams in our
hearts,

looking for better days ahead.

At the gates we are given new
papers,

our old clothes are taken

and we are given overalls like
mechanics wear.

We are given shots and doctors
ask questions.

Then we gather in another room

where counselors orient us to
the new land

we will now live in. We take
tests.

Some of us were craftsmen in
the old world,

good with our hands and proud
of our work.

Others were good with their
heads.

They used common sense like
scholars

use glasses and books to reach
the world.

But most of us didn’t finish
high school.

The old men who have lived
here stare at us,

from deep disturbed eyes,
sulking, retreated.

We pass them as they stand
around idle,

leaning on shovels and rakes
or against walls.

Our expectations are high: in
the old world,

they talked about
rehabilitation,

about being able to finish
school,

and learning an extra good
trade.

But right away we are sent to
work as dishwashers,

to work in fields for three
cents an hour.

The administration says this
is temporary

So we go about our business,
blacks with blacks,

poor whites with poor whites,

chicanos and indians by
themselves.

The administration says this
is right,

no mixing of cultures, let
them stay apart,

like in the old neighborhoods
we came from.

We came here to get away from
false promises,

from dictators in our
neighborhoods,

who wore blue suits and broke
our doors down

when they wanted, arrested us
when they felt like,

swinging clubs and shooting
guns as they pleased.

But it’s no different here.
It’s all concentrated.

The doctors don’t care, our
bodies decay,

our minds deteriorate, we
learn nothing of value.

Our lives don’t get better, we
go down quick.

My cell is crisscrossed with
laundry lines,

my T-shirts, boxer shorts,
socks and pants are drying.

Just like it used to be in my
neighborhood:

from all the tenements laundry
hung window to window.

Across the way Joey is
sticking his hands

through the bars to hand
Felip� a cigarette,

men are hollering back and
forth cell to cell,

saying their sinks don’t work,

or somebody downstairs hollers
angrily

about a toilet overflowing,

or that the heaters don’t
work.

I ask Coyote next door to
shoot me over

a little more soap to finish
my laundry.

I look down and see new
immigrants coming in,

mattresses rolled up and on
their shoulders,

new haircuts and brogan boots,

looking around, each with a
dream in their heart,

thinking they’ll get a chance
to change their lives.

But in the end, some will just
sit around

talking about how good the old
world was.

Some of the younger ones will
become gangsters.

Some will die and others will
go on living

without a soul, a future, or a
reason to live.

Some will make it out of here
with hate in their eyes,

but so very few make it out of
here as human

as they came in, they leave
wondering what good they are now

as they look at their hands so
long away from their tools,

as they look at themselves, so long gone from their families,

so long gone from life itself,
so many things have changed.

 

I guess I chose this poem because it’s something I really
care about. A message that will forever stay inside of me and will follow until
I die. A word I was called since I was four, when I came to the United States. An
immigrant.

And though it hurts to be called an immigrant, I’m
proud of being an Ecuadorian. But because I was not born in this country, I will
never have the same advantage as the people who were born here.  I don’t visit my family back home and it’s
been almost ten years since ill seen my grandma. I practically don’t know how
it feels to have grandparents. To feel their love and touch. And I just watch
my brother go to Ecuador every year. And it hurts a lot to see someone I care go
to Ecuador and not take me. I know I’m jealous.

     But what really touched me in this poem is the sentence “We are born with dreams in our hearts, 

     lookingfor better days ahead. “. The poet right here is looking through the eyes of an
immigrant. Feeling what us immigrants feel. Because people want what’s best for
themselves. We are dreamers and we dream of high education, of a nice home with
a nice roof. We dream of better salaries and a light bulb. And to not walk a
large distance just to get some water. But unlike some people who aren’t
immigrants we the immigrants must work much harder. Since our descendants didn’t
leave a home behind for us or something that would make it easier to go on with
life. And since our descendants didn’t come to the United States for us.

     
we must start from scratch and cross the border.  We must leave our family and friends behind to
accomplish our dream.  We must do what’s
best for our family. We must look forward to a refrigerator full of food and
for good health. We must look forward to better days.

      what bought me and my family to New York was
me. I was sick at that time and my parents didn’t have money to pay a surgery. And
without that surgery I would have died. So my mother came to New York and
worked hard in a restaurant, slowly learning English and getting the money I needed
for the surgery. And once the surgery was over my father thought we should get
a better life. So my father left and I stayed with my grandmother. I was alone
for two years, but I got to go to school. And finally when I was four I came
here. I don’t actually remember anything and hope it stays like that. It would
be much too painful if i get a flashback.

   

      and it’s never easy for immigrants to
cross the border. My dad tried three times finally succeeding on his third try.
My uncle came to the United States too. He was young, 19 years old. When he got
here he had trauma. he had witnessed coyotes rapping women while in the border.
.They have to cross a lot of countries. They have to walk, run, sail and
finally take a plane.   And yet many don’t
succeed.

      And the
last few lines starting from “But in the end…”was surprising too. It’s all true.
The poet knew just what happens at the end. Some have some happiness. For others
it ends badly. When immigrants are finally here they end in poverty. Or hate.
Sometimes even missing the old times. When the place they came from looked much
better than the United States. But happily for me and my family all went well. We
have earned all the money we need to buy a car and during the last ten year we
had built a big house in Ecuador and a store. We even have extra money for
college and vacations. Now we are ready to move on. I am ready to meet my
family once again. And so when I graduate this year were moving back to Ecuador.

   but other people are not going back home. They
have raised children here and sometimes immigrants are afraid of their own
country. Only if they knew what it feels like to be back home. And my aunt is
one of those immigrants, who tries to talk me out of going back home, but all I
could say in my mind is “ I’m ready, I know it, Ecuador is where I belong.

laughter through those tough times

Sold
Sold
Sold into prostitution where life would never be the same. And those dreams you had will never come true. Where you will be trafficked until you aren’t worth it anymore. Until you get a disease or die.  And until your family has forgotten all about you. It’s where happiness was taken away. Where you just feel death is better than this.

And that’s what’s happening to Lakshmi when she was sold by her step father.  Sold! In the book sold by Patricia McCormick.  There are many things I would have loved to write about this book. I could have wrote something big from every paragraph she wrote because she picks such a deep and sophisticated topic that it all makes me learn life some more. And this just stood out.

“How they can eat and laugh and carry on as normal when soon the men will come  is so perplexing that, while they laugh, I fight back tears,”

I didn’t understand why trafficked women from the book will ever learn to laugh again. And act as if things are normal. Nothing is normal. That sure is true. But still these women pretend. They dream as if nothing happens during the night. Like if they are not in that place. As if they have never been touched by a men.

And while those women pretend to have a normal life, Lakshmi can’t get over that she’s trafficked. That this sweet place is not anything sweet just filth of men.  And full of people that she doesn’t understand.

But this book showed me that even though everything is a misery. If everything is hell. There’s still the option of pretending. Because nobody could live without some happiness in life. Nobody could go through this without some friends. Nobody could make it  without some hope.

And this reminds me of another book. I don’t remember its title or anything about it. But this one thing just stayed with me. That even homeless people living in poverty have happiness. They laugh with friends and talk to other people. They need happiness to go on throw this horrible time of life that would hopefully change.

Some women hope to have children because that’s the only happiness in that misery. The kids that would make women go on through this every night.  The women who would do anything for their child. And I guess that this women just want a better future for their children and not for themselves. Because a mother loves her children more than she could say.

And just family or friends make a little laughter go back in life and make you and me go on threw the tough times and fight threw them. Because without pretending we are nothing. In our dreams we are our own queens and kings. But in that place, in that trouble, wrong people see us as nothing.  When truly we are everything.

What happened the day before Chritmas till Christmas

This isn’t homework and this isn’t about reading either. I just felt like writing. I felt like putting my feeling into words that I can go back to them all over and over again. And what are better feelings, than Christmas feelings.

9: 23 pm ok it just turned 9:24 now it’s 9:27 12/24 the day before Christmas

I was away for a few minutes because my mom just came from work. And it takes about 3 minutes to hug and kiss my mother. Every Christmas we go to one of my aunt’s house to make a big party and open presets at 12 am. At 12 am we know that all family and friends are gathered around the tree and waiting for us. We know it’s time to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This year were going to celebrate at my house, which was a last minute thing because my aunt got sick and couldn’t cook dinner.

Right now I’m waiting for the whole family to come. The food is all done. I can smell the chicken and pork. There’s a lot of rice, salad and potatoes. There are a lot of things I still can’t name. All I know is that this is the picture of Christmas. And I can’t wait I’m too excited. I can’t wait for all my cousins to come so we could snuggle together.

9:48 still the same day

A few minutes ago my oldest cousin arrived. She’s in collage so don’t see her often. And I’m happy I got to finally see her and meet her new husband. Which I think he is nice and a very happy man. She’s lucky she got him. Right now I’m in my room and I know I’m wasting time not being with her, but I promised myself would do this. I will write on Christmas. Right now they’re in the leaving room eating and laughing. And right now I have to go. The bell just rang and I have to open the door.

10:26

Three of my cousins came and my aunt and uncle came too. They put the presents were my presents and my biggest cousins presents are. They’re under the big light tree. And the tree is already fully surrounded. I’m in my room writing his and changing into nice clothes. And each of my cousins is waiting outside to come inside my room.

Now I’ve changed and opened the door. My cousins (except the oldest one she’s in the living room talking to other grownups) are beside of me.  One is watching me write. And the other is playing with her little brother and my little brother. Every year it’s the same. And I like it that way. But sometimes I wish it will be another way. In my wish there’s no party and there’s mom, dad, and siblings. They sing at night and have some fun. But there’s always a tree. And instead of opening presents at 12 am they open presents when they wake up on the 25 of December. But then I love having my cousins and whole big family over.

10:34

My other part of the family arrived too (two cousins and an aunt and uncle). They bought presents too! Now they’re in my room. And we are all cramped together. But still we make the best of the room. We are playing on the computer and just listening to music and talking. We are still waiting for another aunt and uncle and three cousins. It’s hard for them to come. They live all the way in Staten Island and had to work in their restaurant. I don’t think they’ll be able to make it. Still, they won’t bring presents because of financial problems, but I still want to see them.

11:02

Now my uncle is here. He’s part of my dad’s family, his brother. I guess he’s the only person that has my father’s true blood. Everyone else is from my mom’s part of the family. He brought a present for me, my brother and father. I’m so happy I can’t wait to find out what’s in that envelope (or how much is in that envelope).

11:45

Its 15 minutes away from opening presents. I don’t think my uncle and aunt and cousins we are waiting for will come. 

12:14

I’ve already opened and handed out presents to people. I got two pajamas (what a shame, now I’m going to give one to my mother). I got a pretty white sweater. And a costly silver pen. Oh and I got 40 dollars which I will spend half of it after school starts on a wallet/case I wanted from Claire’s. And from my friends I got a four leaf clover necklace and a pocket watch and a case for my iPod.  It’s just all so nice and pretty especially the necklace which I think will give me good luck as long as I wear it.

12: 48

Everyone is drinking hot chocolate or coffee including me. We’re also eating some food along with it. Right now I’m wearing my new pajama and my necklace is around me. My eyes are already starting to close slowly. I think I won’t last till the party finishes.

1:02

My father and everyone else who had a camera just took pictures of all of us together. We were wearing Santa hats and eating candy. Then for 2 minutes my brother and little cousin sang “I wish you a merry Christmas”. Then we all clapped.

1:26

Now everyone is gone. They left like 10 minutes ago. Now I’m ready to go to bed and say bye. I’m ready for this writing piece to end. Merry Christmas!

We only got one chance for this

I finally finished reading 19 minutes by Jodi Picoult. I guess it’s been about a month since I last checked it out of Ms.Robbins library. The first week, I read halfway the next week I read a bit but it was my laziness fault that I didn’t finish it. The week after that, I put it aside because of no time. I had to finish my picture book. And now this week I managed to get back on track. And you know I’m kind of glad it’s all over. I can finally search the library for a new fresh book.  And I could learn something entirely different.

Most people will be unhappy and maybe crying when a book finishes. All the words in that book are read and there is no more left. Something terrible had to happen in that book for it to finish. I feel the same way. But yet I put that feeling away. I wrap it up real nice and open the bag with the happy feeling. I want to feel glad. Because if it were never to finish I will never begin another book. And although it’s impossible to read all the books on earth, I still want to read as many books as I can.

And maybe I didn’t read harry potter because of this. I was scared, that if I took a lot of time on reading those big gigantic books I will miss many other great books in my life. And I will never get to read those books.  And I’m still scared. But still I know one of this days I would read the whole harry potter series. I would do this before dead stops me. If we are dead we will never come back to live to resolve our problems. We only got one chance for this.

And that’s why I feel bad for taking so long on this book. It’s not I don’t love it because I do. It’s that I want to give the next book a chance too. And now I will try to get back on track because I missed a great 500 pages long book. And instead of reading two books per month I will read three books this month.

The happiness is exploding inside of me. It can’t hold much longer. I’m wishing right now that I were in a big library. Where all the books in the world are there. And I stay there for the rest of my life reading every single one of them. I’m happy after I finish a book, when finally say “oh my god this is the greatest book in the world” close it, and move on to the next one. I do this again and again as a cycle. And the only thing that could stop this cycle is dead.

my inspiration.

There’s a book that I call my inspiration. And if you look inside the book, pages are taped together. Pages are half torn. And the cover and back is ripped a bit. But still this book called lone eagle by Danielle steel is my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It’s my inspiration for reading, for life. And writing. It’s the best booked ill yet touched, felt, read and cried over. It’s the book that inspires me to go on with life and to never give up. It’s the book I have to search forever at the bottom of my book shelf, but it’s all worth it when I’m done.

One night my dad came home with three books. One of them was this book. He found them on a box outside a house. They were given away. I read lone eagle.  I was desperate to read for I had not read since school ended. And I never imagined this being a miracle. Of this old book to be gold for my eyes. And I thank that person for giving it away instead of throwing it out. I thank my dad for picking this one from all the books there were on that box.  And I thank the writer for writing the greatest book of all times.

A Writer has to have an inspiration. Someone or something that makes us write. That makes us love it. That makes us see the true art behind writing. Who is there every time we need help. And this book always helps me. I get new ideas, new stories, new craft moves from this book. From the wonderful words in the leaves. I need this to continue on writing. To continue writing as I do.

And apart from teaching me new love, the impossible and possible, like other books. This book and I got connected. It was like love at first sight. Love at the eagle. Lonely but still an eagle. That shiny gold eagle that calls me to the pages. The eagle that is the only one. The only kind. And I am the only one. The only one to write this. The only one who could write like this. But still I try to write like the author. And in so many ways I wished I was him. That I had his writing. That I had his passion and words.

Even though this book is only worth 26.95 dollars its worth a million dollars to me. No a million dollars for each page, no, each word. To my eyes it’s a miracle sent from god. A sign that I could become a writer. A sign that I need to work hard for what I love. And it can’t get no better with an inspiration to follow you thought your carrier.

To be called a monster

There’s one boy. That right when you see him you despise him. He’s a murder, he killed your son. You criticize him before letting him tell his whole story. Without getting that he’s been hurt and killed in other ways. That it was your sons own fault that he’s in hell now. You should first know his black and dangerous story and what made him become a murder. What made him kill people? What made him the same from other murderers?


And as people only see it he’s a dangerous monster. A monster from the book 19 minutes by Jodi Picoult. A monster named peter. Known for killing ten students and injuring a lot when he bought a pistol to school. A monster that must be killed. Not just locked away.

To be a monster is to be a cruel and wicked. It is cruel to take someone’s life away. But there’s no pain. Peter was killed by the boy he killed. He was hurt. There was a lot of pain. And the only way he found out was to get rid of the bullies. To get rid of that monster. To not get rid of himself like others will do. And I guess it turned to a game. A game full of blackness the only targets are everyone. For they are all your enemies. They are all in the bully’s side. There is no one to trust.

I believe that no one is a monster. Not unless it’s in a movie. That no one could be considered both cruel and wicked. Not even that person who you think hurts you terribly. Who mistreats. Who rapes you day after day. Not even the men who killed one thousand people. Or that woman that took my pop away. That woman who killed him and left a whole. I just think their picking sides. Sides to be with the devil or the monster. They’re picking bad over good.  They’re picking what parents showed them to pick.

Every murderer has a background. A reason. They know they were hurt once and they want to get revenge. To show them what it feels to die. The only way is dead. Which is not even close, to show the hurt. Not enough. So they mistreat them before dead comes. They hurt, spit and kick the bully. And the bully knows he’s going to die and he prays and begs. The killer has fun watching him finally feeling like the bully and later the gun is shot.

But I would rather that bully be alive. To tell him my hurt. To cry with him. To put some sense in him. To make him hurt in another way. To not make this a game because it never is.

If I didn’t know peter better. I would have judged him like any other person. I would have probably called him a monster and every wicked thing I can think about. I would have probably killed him if he murdered one of my children. But I know everything. Who hurt him and how he was killed. I would probably not think he is nice but I would never call him a monster.

Unseen

 A fat girl is listening to your conversation. She’s only five feet away. But you don’t notice her despite her big size. She’s hidden, she’s invisible. She’s Meghan Ball. She is the girl from Valley Regional High from the book looks by Madeleine George.

When unseen Meghan is less likely to be hurt. So there are no friends who may dump her later for their reputation. There are no boys bothering her and making her life miserable. There are no teachers who bother her with grades and homework. And there is no one who would notice and then make fun of her because of her big size. She would only have herself.

What first began as a happy girl who had her best friend, Cara, turned to a sad girl.  But that girl didn’t turn sad from one day to the other and without something for the cause of it.

It’s a real meanness for a girl to dump her best friend to make a better reputation. To choose a guy over her long best friend. To make up excuses to her every time. And after, to not even say a simple hello after seeing her in the hall.  And everything ends right there. The girl forgets her ex best friend. But the girl that was dumped will never forget her, no matter what.

It was done and it hurt. You don’t want to be hurt again.  The only thing you think of is being unseen.  There’s a shield protecting you from anyone. Not letting them get in. but it’s not strong enough. The little actions come through. Those little pieces make you hurt. But the shield is covering you and they can’t see you’re hurt.  

They know that you won’t stand up for yourself, that you are hidden only shielded by a thin shield. A broken shield. They take advantage of this. They hurt you in any possible way. You can see them through the holes but they can’t so they keep mistreating you. You don’t do anything; no one else does anything because you are unseen to them.

There’s someone you want to be with. You know she’s right for you. You watch her every day through the broken pieces of your shield. But you have to be seen to know her for she doesn’t see you. You put that shield under your bed and go confront her. You know her. You go back home and take the shield from under the bed. You ask her to share it. You both become invisible.

You both are unseen but happy. You have someone to share that shield with. But once in a while you have to shove that shield under your bed and be seen. It hurts more to be unseen than to be seen. Cause you have once been unseen and maybe you liked it or not but once in a while  its good. even thought that last time was a bad time, remember the ups.

looking at the cover and getting the plot

It’s almost impossible to get the plot of the story just by looking at its cover. Not looking on the blurb or the first page of the book. But from the picture you could get a whole lot. So the book that I could catch it from, is looks. The cover has a big O and a small O in the title looks. Inside the big O is an obese and big girl while in the small O there is a really skinny girl. There’s a reflection of both the girls.

I took some of my knowledge from people. This time obese people. I think the girl will feel insecure about her body and hide behind her layer of fats.  Took this from some books I read by Sarah Dessen about finding friends and getting confidence and sticking up for herself. This book could be a lot like the book I’m just going to start to read.  The two girls in the front could stick together and defeat whoever and whatever that stands from their happiness.

People hurt other people and bully them for being too skinny or too fat. And because the cover shows two opposite girls still they might have something in common. This book may revolve around one subject bullying and sticking up to it with the help of a friend. And already I know that I will be seeing a lot of depth and emotion in this book. Having to learn about a subject I love.

I can’t really say how it feels for people to criticize you for being too fat or too skinny because I have never been one or the other. But I feel like I’m the character, skin and bones or layers of fat, just by looking at the book, and better when ill finally read the book. I’m excited o come with a solution and make a new friend in the book. So the minute I finish this book I’m going to get real lost in the book.

What I didn’t notice before but just 10 seconds before I started writing this paragraph was the skinny’s girl hand gesture. She had her hands tied around her fragile body. Maybe just maybe there will be some problems with eating disorders in this book like in the book skinny. In fact this book could be of many problems revolving around one big problem.

I just hope I’m right from looking at the cover but soon about a minute I’ll find out. And maybe I’ll tell you if I was right. I might get a little piece right and the rest wrong but that’s okay because every noticer looks at things differently. next time you read a book look at the cover first and decide whether it was worth it. do it and tell me because i think its totally worth just taking a few minutes to look at the cover.

missing our youth

Auden has missed out on a few things in life. And not just things that are easy to go back and do. Getting back those days that she missed as a child is hard to get back but possible.  Through her childhood she has always been doing what she did best, studying. She was never been treated like a child but a small adult by her parents. In Along for the ride by Sarah Dessen, she decides to do something different and take back what she never got.

But looking back to the past and still the present I see how unfair it was for Auden. Missing out on sports, and learning to ride a bike. Missing out on screaming across the park and running fast. Even missing out on falling down and crying and then being caressed by her mother.  She missed out on all the fun a child should do and live without. She missed on sad times and good times. And she especially missed on friends and what goes along with it.

I blame Auden’s mother for destroying Ronnie’s childhood. I blame her father. They knew she was child, that all children should have fun and live life slowly. That each and every one of them should not worry that much in education where it comes to the point they don’t even think about friends.  That if they had their goodtime as a child, why not let her too. She was no grown up to be expected much but to love.  I hate that they gave up after their son, who turned out a total duff. But they should have not. If they thought it was too hard then why have her?

As a teenager I still feel like a kid. Needing joy from others and having joy myself. I want to go on slowly with my life not wanting to miss anything as ages go by. I want to feel the taste in my mouth.  But just recently I learned from mother that not everyone is the same or thinks the same or even think at all. People especially teenagers rush through life. Life is short, I know but we can still move through it slowly and feel the goodness of it. I would usually find a teenager who looks and acts much older than she is. That includes my cousin.

Even though she’s only seventeen she already has a 1 year old son and her boyfriend.  I remember when she was about my age, she was already dating. It’s fine by me to date, but when you take it a lot further and have a family of your own it turns out wrong. Now I see that there are no more late nights and parties. There is no more hanging around after school. She now has a child to take care of. And I doubt that without her mother she will have taken care of her baby as good as now.  She’s someone who rushed into life. Like if she does not have a good 60 more years to go. I look at her and decide I will not do the same thing she did. I will go through things slowly. But later I know she could go back and get back what she missed on what teenagers do.

I could keep pointing at people for what they did to some of us. That they treated us like adults just to make life easier for themselves. But I won’t. A child who has no choice, I understand. They are forced to and can’t stop it. But as a teenager, when we start to make our own choices, I don’t understand .we have to only point at ourselves.  We cause ourselves to rush and miss out on things that are important that we don’t find out till we realize we missed it all. But it’s never too late to go back and do things that we missed.

trust

I find myself reading his books. I’m trying to read every single book of his. First I read Dear John then the notebook and finally now I’m reading the last song by Nicholas sparks. I can truly tell that it has never been the same before. Even with Sarah Dessen, the feeling inside me never felt this well. It is because I trust Nicholas sparks. I trust him even before reading his books knowing they will all change me as a whole. Knowing they are the greatest books.

Trusting the author somehow connects with me trusting the character Ronnie. I trust that she will later trust her boyfriend that they could always be together even if they are far. I trust the author that he will leave me thinking in the end of the story. He will leave me feeling sad yet happy he had done another great novel. I trust that Ronnie will love her father more than anything and I trust her future. I trust that she will touch the piano again. And now I trust my own future and live. I trust my happiness and sadness. And I trust my best friend.

Everything depends on trusting. Either your relationship with your partner or your fate. Trust your partner, trust fate and maybe everything will go well in your relationship. Trust your mother when she tells you to not do something even if someone desperately wants you to. Do not do it. Just trust them and go back to your room. Feel mad at them if you want but listen and act. They know more than us.  Trust your future and your destiny and especially if you’re catholic like me, trust Jesus.

What is trust? Well trust is to believe in that special person who deserves it or just trusting something. A person deserves it by being by your side and never leaving. Trust the person who will save you emotionally and physically. A person who gave you what you always wanted, not just ones but all over and over again, like Nickolas sparks. He gave me joy all over and over again. Wrote a book and then wrote more with the same emotion, making me trust in him. He truly deserves my trust as a reader and writer.

First step to communicate with your readers is having their trust. We must earn it. We cannot just do anything to earn it. Nickolas sparks made me trust her. And all I could say is that she really did earn it.

Taking the wrong steps

I'm that kind of girl who believes in signs. I believe in changing faith and the cause of that. It first starts with choices then the result of that and from the result comes a change in faith. It is not unpacked till the end. Still, clues let me know what way faith was going for Naomi in Memoirs of a teenage amnesiac by Gabrielle Zevin. Naomi whole life changes when she accidentally hits her head on the steps and wakes up with amnesiac. Amnesiac is when memory is lost, which applies to Naomi.

If I had not listened to the girl who complemented this book or picked it out of Mrs. Robbins library or even the greater part, read it, I would have never written this reading response. Even though I have no idea how this book might change me and my faith I know it will, somehow. I might not notice it. But it will. It might just stay with me through my life and when the time comes it will come out.

If Naomi would have picked tails and not gone for the camera she would not had to think hard of who is her boyfriend and think hard of her mother. She would not have to feel pain again when finding out that her mom had an affair and had another child. I feel as if this change was for her and her mother to reunite. It was another chance to make things right with her mother. Naomi gets closer every time to her mother. She’s accepting her mother’s gifts, needing to talk to her and even talking to her half sister. Everything goes in small baby steps that if you don’t look hard enough it might go pass your eyes.

Feelings have also changed for Naomi. She feels as though her boyfriend is not her type and it seems that she might not fall for him again. She does not pick up that her best friend likes her more than a friend, which she might not have either before the accident. Her feelings might change towards her best friends. I would not be surprised, when they are a couple towards the end of the book. Like faith feelings also change. When feelings change faith changes. When faith changes feelings change. But there are people who don’t do anything when one of the two changes and decide to live in misery.

People feelings change through life. We know nobody is perfect. There are people who fall in and out of love and breakups happen or even affairs. Faith changes, a good thing leads to a good thing but sometimes leads to a bad thing. A bad thing always goes to the wrong direction, to the wrong faith that you never wanted. Just a simple going to the store at night can lead to the change in faith. The first minute you’re with your chips at hand the next you’re crying because you got raped. Just the simplest things could change not just faith but you as a person and a whole.

And though I never wanted to change my faith, my faith is a new one from the faith I had 2 years ago. Just the simplest goodness and pleasure can bring faith to go to the wrong stairs. They lead to hell instead of a pleasant heaven. Faith changes you, your surroundings and you’re beloved. We can’t be hard on ourselves for what happened in 9/11 or that day we failed a test. Cause a wrong thing was made by you but you just have to grab on tight and climb the right stairs with me.

love

Savannah…
Savannah…

I hear myself repeating her name with love as if I were the one deeply in love with her. In a sense I am in love with the character but still I know that I could live without her. The word death scared me; the word love made me read more. i am scared of death but now i know that love lasts forever.Dear John is filled with love, relationship, trust, and death. Nicholas sparks puts a lot of depth and emotion as if somehow this has happen to him before, a person without passing through this could not write it. Only he could. This book has simply no description just the word love. Nothing could ever be compared to savannah’s and john’s love. This love is so real that I am left thinking what I ever saw from twilight.

I never really believed in love at first sight. I thought it was just lust. Then I really saw it in my head when it happened to john. I was john at that moment. I was looking at her eyes. Seeing what I never expected to see. Not sure of what I felt just that I did not want to look away. I saw the sun, the moon, my parents, coins, the past and the present with her. I didn’t care if the world ended as long as I was with her. I let my heart lead me deeper and stop following by brain. I saw the eyes as the clue to love at first sight and not the body or the looks. In the first page she was mentioned, I instantly fell in love with her. I wanted to know more about her even though I knew love is dangerous especially in a book were there are conflicts.

She did not just break John’s heart but my heart too.At this point i thought it was to much as though she were breaking up with me to. She should have waited. Still it was too much. I couldn’t hate her. I loved her too much to hate her. I just felt sorry and kept thinking of what could have been. I saw 2 kids, a camp every summer, horses, and a big house. I saw all the love that was in the air. I saw john’s future and what I want my future to be like. I can’t hate my mother for slapping me during a discussion; I can’t hate my 5th grade best friend for betraying me. I love them and they will always be loved.

Whenever i hear my parents screaming at eachother i think that they are going to split up, but in no more than 20 minutes both of them are huddled up in the sofa with hot chocolate in their hands. though i am scared that one of this days it might be to much for my dad or mom i wait in my room paitiently for their fight to stop. i just flow with their relationship. i am left thinking, that i was just someone to make their relationship better. they are still lovers and not just parents.

I am left thinking that real love has conflicts. Nobody’s relationship is perfect. There are small problems that could be resolved, but John’s and Savannah’s problem was too big or just to much to handle. Nickolas Sparks puts his life into the book and though it’s not quite the same as experiencing love, it’s the closest thing to it. Though I have never felt love I want to keep saying I’m in love all over and over again.