Like any other first day of school, it has always been universally considered as the day of reconciliation with some of your friends. As well as those newly bought school materials you’ve been dying to brag about among your peers. Not to mention of course those several familiar faces that you’ve be seeing along the way for the last couple of years; people you have walked across the same hallway before —- from other classes perhaps or even the cute boy you have been crushing about for the last couple of months but never had any guts to try and talk to him. Yes, this is what it would be like if you’re coming back to school that you’ve stayed on for the last couple of years. But if it’s you’re first day and you’re going to a completely and entirely different school, then you might as well disregard all those expectations I have described before and let me tell you what it really feels like.
Only a few days left and I’m going back to school. The end of freedom where there is no school (not that I hate) homeworks, projects and especially quizzes are finally coming back to haunt my dreams and my daily life. Not only was this the case of me being sad, but also realizing that I am getting older. I’m a senior now in high school (Grade 11 to be precise) and just think, two months later from now I’m going to be seventeen years old. One step closer from becoming an adult, another step closer from finishing high school and another step closer from entering college life. This would not only indicate that I’m no longer an adolescent anymore, but as an adult who has the power to lead his or her own life from now on.
Every human being is like a flower who blooms and creates beauty in the world. And each flower has its own specific colors. Its features are not always the same from one flower to another, and most of them do not share the same preferences at all. Despite of this, they are of the same kind. They still create beauty. This harmonizes the notion that all things are equal to one another regardless of their differences. Just like the flowers, we are the same like them. Not all of us share the same religious or political beliefs, the same color of our skin or even our sexual orientation. But we all have one thing in common and that is the innate capacity to do good for others and for the world. A contribution in other words that makes our world a better place. A contribution that makes life worth living.
Love and Gratitude
Marissa Coleman was a twenty one year old woman who was living with her mother. She was an aspiring writer, hoping one day to be published and be famous worldwide. For a young lady such as her, it is normal to conceive such a big dream. But sometimes, life would never follow the way you wanted it to be. A year ago Mrs. Coleman, her mother, had the Alzheimer’s disease. It made a huge difference in her life. Her mother was not rich to hire a maid for her nor there are any other family members living near their home; her mother in a way as she thought one time, will be a hindrance towards her dreams of becoming famous. She already finished college. She thought it would at least lessen the struggle of her responsibilities. But she never realized how severe the hardships would be of taking care of her mother when she finally succumbed to the disease. Continue reading “A Random Short Story: Love Thy Mother”
Have you ever experienced this strange feeling like when you first watched the movie Titanic and thought of wishing that kind of love would be the same with your future relationship someday? I did yet unsure whether I will find someone.
What are my impressions and comments on taking summer school at this particular university? Mainly there are numerous words I could describe about it over the past few days specifically the people, both my temporary classmates and the staff there. I would like to state first that taking summer school was my choice, not because of having any failing marks on my report card. In the simplest excuse of taking so is because I love to learn and I would like to gain some additional information in my head.
I have published these two poems before on a website, but I eventually erased it. The reason behind this decision is because I changed my mind and decided it should rather be posted right here in my blog.
So without further ado, these are my two poems that I’ve written about a year ago. The first poem is called Wanderlust and the second one is The Mind of a Beggar.
For the several days of not posting anything is not a conclusion that I abandoned this blog of mine, rather I’ve been quiet busy writing my story. But I have to tell you honestly that I’ve experienced self – criticism with my prose as well as the story itself for being dull and lifeless. It wasn’t pretty being yourself as the worst critic of your own work.
This book by James Herriot was probably the most heartwarming book I’ve ever read in my whole life. Aside from the fact that this was his last semi – autobiographical novel and I’ve never read his early previous novels before, this however was enough for me to know why a lot of people love him.
A lot of my friends don’t usually read books and they spend most of their time either watching TV, going to malls or watching a movie. I’m not against all of these particular activities, but I just hope they could at least try and see the beauty of reading books. But they often complained that it’s too boring or sometimes they don’t have the time. So, this is my response to them as well as to the people who don’t read books and usually find it as a waste of time: