One man’s conquer is another man’s disgrace. Yes, in every struggle in which one fights to win, there will always be someone who loses. Capote, a man who became fascinated with his work which led him to become a very rich man because of it, ironically became his destruction. And Eva, a young low-class girl, that was oppressed by her parents and never really had a voice, later because of her writing made her become free in expression and her ideas. These are two different characters but yet they seem to have one thing in common, writing. It’s a way of expression in which nobody can tell you what is wrong or right. People write in all sorts of ways. Some write poems, songs, others write novels; either way it’s your way of letting the world know what is going on with you.
Eva, this girl was my main focus as I saw the movie Freedom Writers. I was fascinated by her independent and individualism. As much as she was absorbed in gangs and violence to me she seemed like a lost girl. She had never really been given the opportunity to express herself. She had to live by the standards in which her parents put for her, or what was approved by her “gang.” Eva had a voice, I could see it in her, but she didn’t know how to use it. In her freshman year of high school, she entered her English class with a new teacher Ms. Erin Gruwell. This wasn’t like anything Eva had ever pictured her freshman year. She thought this new teacher could be easily pushed around, as did the rest of the class, and so because of this everybody pretty much did whatever they wanted the first few weeks. They didn’t really care too much about Ms.Gruwell and so their daily class activities were to chat around with classmates or procrastinate in any other way. Later, Ms. Gruwell goes on to take control of her class and show them that she is there for them, she wants their voices to be heard. This is when she introduces to them the art of expression, writing. Ms.Gruwell asks them to keep a journal in which they will have to write daily. In Eva’s first encounter with her journal, she begins to write about how she must defend her family, her people. She doesn’t care about being honest, she cares about being loyal. That is the only way to survive. Eva begins to express herself more and more throughout the movie. She begins to discover who she really is and if those people she considers her family are really looking out for her, or for themselves. By the end of the movie, I began to see the Eva I had originally thought she was; the girl with the strong voice, the one who couldn’t be easily pushed around. Out of all the people in her classroom that grew along her over the years, I saw the biggest change in her. She wasn’t the bully that hid behind her gang and others expectations anymore; she was Eva.
On the other hand, Capote, a man who conquered the field of literature and writing, became fascinated with the killings in the town of Holcomb, Kansas. He travels to the town in research of an article but ends up expanding his research into what would become the most impacting and known novel of his time, “In Cold Blood.” As I watched this movie I was intrigued by his way of interacting with people. He didn’t seem like anything I had seen before, not influencing the fact the he was a homosexual and his way of being was very feminine. He looked interesting by things that others would easily look over. The killer in the movie, Perry Smith, was where his attention was drawn from the very start. He is awestruck by every quality there is to him. He fell in love with Perry and tried to “rescue” him. By the end of the movie you can see how Capote had self-destructed. He wasn’t anymore the outspoken type of writer but more of a drawn down and you could say worn out person. This seemed different than how Eva had been in her movie.
I think that my attention with these two characters was because they we both writer, but writing was what led Eva to freedom and ironically it was what destroyed Capote. Eva overcame her fears, she was no longer oppressed by her family, she was now free. She had become a freedom writer. Capote became famous, and will probably always be remembered for his book, but he never truly was happy, ever again. His true love became Perry that is probably what made this book successful. He observed his every move and he was intrigued by someone that everybody had learned to hate. His way of doing things differently made him “Capote.” His success eventually led him to his own failure.
“Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.” –Truman Capote
domingo, 28 de febrero de 2010
Sisterly Love
How far is too far when you love someone? Are you willing to give up your life for your loved ones?
Anna was brought into this world to save her sister Kate’s life. Ever since she was a couple of days old her life has been in and out of the hospital. With every visit comes a new surgery or a new procedure Anna has to undergo. There comes a point in your life in which you want to be able to choose for yourself. A sister faced with a struggle in which she must choose between being selfish or giving up her life to save her sister.
Kate was diagnosed with cancer as an infant and because of this her parents made the decision to have another child in the hopes that the baby would become her donor. As soon as Anna was out of the womb she instantly began donating blood and undergoing bone marrow transplants. A baby conceived for spare parts or was this an honorable and selfless act of desperate parents? When you become a parent, there is no manual that tells you what to do. The only thing you know is that no matter what you must keep your babies safe forever. What to Expect When You’re Expecting forgot to add the chapter of dealing with a child with cancer. In an act of desperation Anna’s parent became pregnant in the hope of bringing a miracle to the world that would save little Kate. Scrolling down each line of this novel, you begin to question the characters’ actions and wonder how you would act if the shoe were on the other foot. If my brother had cancer would I be the first to stand up and donate every organ in my body in the hope of giving him years more to come, or would I hesitate and doubt becoming in that very instant the most selfish person in the world? The author addresses both scenarios and explores each characters motivation for their actions.
Looking at this book from every perspective, the author of My Sisters Keeper, Jodi Picoult, is able to capture each angle. She narrates all the characters visions and what is going on in their mind. Her style of writing is what makes this author unique. Her way of using the characters pain and anguish and turn it into words that captivate you through every page forcing you to keep reading until the very end. Anna’s mothers’ suffering was probably the most impacting of the whole story. “The most unbearable pain is losing a child.” Those are words any mother would say without even hesitating. The thought of losing the one thing you brought into this world can’t begin describing the pain.
Throughout the story you feel that you yourself are also faced with a choice. What would you do if you were in that situation? The pain of dealing with cancer and chemotherapy is hopeless, but being used your whole life as a surgery puppet is miserable. Anna and Kate’s struggle become the central focus of the book but in no point do they ever stop loving each other unconditionally. Kate sacrifices so much to be able to save Anna, but it’s never enough and that isn’t what Anna wants for her sister. Every chapter is filled with surprises as you discover the real story behind each character’s struggle. There is no bad guy, no one to hate, just unconditional love that forces people to make choices no one should ever have to, not parents or siblings.
Anna was brought into this world to save her sister Kate’s life. Ever since she was a couple of days old her life has been in and out of the hospital. With every visit comes a new surgery or a new procedure Anna has to undergo. There comes a point in your life in which you want to be able to choose for yourself. A sister faced with a struggle in which she must choose between being selfish or giving up her life to save her sister.
Kate was diagnosed with cancer as an infant and because of this her parents made the decision to have another child in the hopes that the baby would become her donor. As soon as Anna was out of the womb she instantly began donating blood and undergoing bone marrow transplants. A baby conceived for spare parts or was this an honorable and selfless act of desperate parents? When you become a parent, there is no manual that tells you what to do. The only thing you know is that no matter what you must keep your babies safe forever. What to Expect When You’re Expecting forgot to add the chapter of dealing with a child with cancer. In an act of desperation Anna’s parent became pregnant in the hope of bringing a miracle to the world that would save little Kate. Scrolling down each line of this novel, you begin to question the characters’ actions and wonder how you would act if the shoe were on the other foot. If my brother had cancer would I be the first to stand up and donate every organ in my body in the hope of giving him years more to come, or would I hesitate and doubt becoming in that very instant the most selfish person in the world? The author addresses both scenarios and explores each characters motivation for their actions.
Looking at this book from every perspective, the author of My Sisters Keeper, Jodi Picoult, is able to capture each angle. She narrates all the characters visions and what is going on in their mind. Her style of writing is what makes this author unique. Her way of using the characters pain and anguish and turn it into words that captivate you through every page forcing you to keep reading until the very end. Anna’s mothers’ suffering was probably the most impacting of the whole story. “The most unbearable pain is losing a child.” Those are words any mother would say without even hesitating. The thought of losing the one thing you brought into this world can’t begin describing the pain.
Throughout the story you feel that you yourself are also faced with a choice. What would you do if you were in that situation? The pain of dealing with cancer and chemotherapy is hopeless, but being used your whole life as a surgery puppet is miserable. Anna and Kate’s struggle become the central focus of the book but in no point do they ever stop loving each other unconditionally. Kate sacrifices so much to be able to save Anna, but it’s never enough and that isn’t what Anna wants for her sister. Every chapter is filled with surprises as you discover the real story behind each character’s struggle. There is no bad guy, no one to hate, just unconditional love that forces people to make choices no one should ever have to, not parents or siblings.
viernes, 4 de diciembre de 2009
Don’t Worry it’s on me
“I don't care how poor a man is; if he has family, he's rich”- Dan Wilcox
Ever since the day I was born my parents have not only taken care of me but also the rest of my relatives: my grandparents, uncles, and especially my Tia Leah, my dad’s younger sister. Sometimes I wonder why, but it’s simply the way my father was brought up and it’s the way he wants us also to be. . She grew up in a pretty hectic home. My grandmother had been divorced three times. My dad lost his father at a young age; and money was always lacking. Leah jumped around from school to school, and never really had anyone to call a parental figure in her life.
As difficult as life was for her, my Tia always loved to take care of those in need. Even in times when she was the one that needed someone. She dreamed of it and made it her goal to reach it. If there ever was a sick person, she would be there trying to prescribe them medication (even when she didn’t even know what the cause of their pain was) or if a bird was hurt she would rescue it and make him her pet. At a young age she began her strive to become a doctor. She graduated top in her class and was able to get a full scholarship to Vanderbilt University. Her family’s economic means weren’t enough for her to go there, so she worked hard to stay. Later she returned to Panama, where my father was beginning a family, and continued with her studies.
This is when things became even more difficult for her. Her father didn’t pay for any of her expenses, so she depended fully on my father. I remember always being with my Tia and going out as a family. She would always feel bad that my father had to pay for everything, so every once in a while she would try to pay for lunches or dinners. Still she always got the same response from my dad, “Don’t worry it’s on me.” As much as it embarrassed her to have my family always pay for her, she promised my mom and dad someday that she would pay us back. As a way of returning the favor she would babysit me or play with my brothers. I can remember the many movies we watched together: Lion King, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White. I remember when she thought I had meningitis. She stayed with me all night long, not once leaving my side, trying to make sure that I was not in pain. She kept my parents worry-free and me as comfortable as possible.
My Tia continued her studies and graduated as a doctor from the University of Panama. She later returned to the states where she met her husband and they decided to come back to Panama to have my cousin Sophia. A few weeks after Sophie was born she decided to go to back and begin her Residency at Baptist Hospital in Nashville, Tennessee. During her residency she became Chief Resident. She was also represented Tennessee in the American Association of Doctors. Slowly she began making money. I admired her strength and how not once she has shown any sort of weakness. Even though she’s my aunt I consider her to be the rock of my family. I can always count on her. We can sit for hours and talk about almost anything because I know that whatever situation I’m dealing with, she’s been through worse. And her sense of humor isn’t like anybody else’s. We laugh at things that no one can really understand. Tia Leah is my strongest role model: she has overcome every obstacle that has been thrown her.
Money no longer is an issue for her, but that wasn’t what made her happy, saving lives was. She loved absolute everything about her job, the late nights, hard work-- everything. While my aunt was in the states getting ahead of the competition, my dad lost his job here in Panama. He had to move to the States and start all over. Now, the tables were turned. In a time when my dad helped others, now he was the one who needed someone there for him. Embarrassed my dad asked my aunt for help, not once did she question him. She just gave him what he needed. I remember going out to dinner in the states with her, only this time when the check arrived at the table, she grabbed it before my dad, and said, “Don’t worry it’s on me.”
Ever since the day I was born my parents have not only taken care of me but also the rest of my relatives: my grandparents, uncles, and especially my Tia Leah, my dad’s younger sister. Sometimes I wonder why, but it’s simply the way my father was brought up and it’s the way he wants us also to be. . She grew up in a pretty hectic home. My grandmother had been divorced three times. My dad lost his father at a young age; and money was always lacking. Leah jumped around from school to school, and never really had anyone to call a parental figure in her life.
As difficult as life was for her, my Tia always loved to take care of those in need. Even in times when she was the one that needed someone. She dreamed of it and made it her goal to reach it. If there ever was a sick person, she would be there trying to prescribe them medication (even when she didn’t even know what the cause of their pain was) or if a bird was hurt she would rescue it and make him her pet. At a young age she began her strive to become a doctor. She graduated top in her class and was able to get a full scholarship to Vanderbilt University. Her family’s economic means weren’t enough for her to go there, so she worked hard to stay. Later she returned to Panama, where my father was beginning a family, and continued with her studies.
This is when things became even more difficult for her. Her father didn’t pay for any of her expenses, so she depended fully on my father. I remember always being with my Tia and going out as a family. She would always feel bad that my father had to pay for everything, so every once in a while she would try to pay for lunches or dinners. Still she always got the same response from my dad, “Don’t worry it’s on me.” As much as it embarrassed her to have my family always pay for her, she promised my mom and dad someday that she would pay us back. As a way of returning the favor she would babysit me or play with my brothers. I can remember the many movies we watched together: Lion King, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White. I remember when she thought I had meningitis. She stayed with me all night long, not once leaving my side, trying to make sure that I was not in pain. She kept my parents worry-free and me as comfortable as possible.
My Tia continued her studies and graduated as a doctor from the University of Panama. She later returned to the states where she met her husband and they decided to come back to Panama to have my cousin Sophia. A few weeks after Sophie was born she decided to go to back and begin her Residency at Baptist Hospital in Nashville, Tennessee. During her residency she became Chief Resident. She was also represented Tennessee in the American Association of Doctors. Slowly she began making money. I admired her strength and how not once she has shown any sort of weakness. Even though she’s my aunt I consider her to be the rock of my family. I can always count on her. We can sit for hours and talk about almost anything because I know that whatever situation I’m dealing with, she’s been through worse. And her sense of humor isn’t like anybody else’s. We laugh at things that no one can really understand. Tia Leah is my strongest role model: she has overcome every obstacle that has been thrown her.
Money no longer is an issue for her, but that wasn’t what made her happy, saving lives was. She loved absolute everything about her job, the late nights, hard work-- everything. While my aunt was in the states getting ahead of the competition, my dad lost his job here in Panama. He had to move to the States and start all over. Now, the tables were turned. In a time when my dad helped others, now he was the one who needed someone there for him. Embarrassed my dad asked my aunt for help, not once did she question him. She just gave him what he needed. I remember going out to dinner in the states with her, only this time when the check arrived at the table, she grabbed it before my dad, and said, “Don’t worry it’s on me.”
Dinner at Grandma’s
It describes my family in every way: hectic, disorganized, yet in every way perfect. As soon as you hear that screen door open you feel like you’ve walked into a carnival. The first thing that hits you is the smell. It doesn’t matter if it’s the freezing temperature of winter or the unbearable heat of summer, my grandmother’s house always smells like delicious, homemade food. The scent of nice warm chicken, made with all the love in the world, and her famous rice, which makes us all go crazy are always there. Everyone in her town knows about my grandmother’s house. It’s probably the biggest treasure chest you’ll ever go into. For pack rats its paradise, and for me its home. Her house is close to 100 years old, and you can definitely feel it.
In the middle of the room is a Central American table, made out of leather, surrounded by six chairs. The bottom parts of the chairs are U shaped from the weight that they have supported over the years. My family gathers around this table every morning of summer or Christmas vacation, and we tell stories while my “Abuela” cooks at the stove anything that we’re hungry for: chicken noodle soup with crackers on cold days or an endless supply of pancakes any time of the day or night. Behind the table are shelves that tell the story of my life and of the other people she loves. The shelves are bent because all the books and pictures that have been placed there. Pictures of me at two are there, and right next to them are my father’s pictures as a two year old which show our resemblance. There are invitations to weddings of fifteen years ago, and thank you cards for simply just being there in a time of need. The shelves hold all these memories and warmly embrace new pictures or ornaments. During my breakfast I take the seat facing the shelves and I look at them for hours trying to find something new since my last visit; and there always is.
In the background I hear my grandmother dancing to her Panamanian cumbia and she yells “Ay vamos , Panama,” which always makes me smile. My dad sits on an old rusty chair telling the funny stories that make me and my brothers laugh for hours. Then it becomes a competition between my Abuela and my dad to see who tells the funniest one. I simply think it makes their day to hear me and my brothers giggle. My grandfather is the biggest character of all. To me, he’s like the stereotypical redneck. His sits at the table with his white wife-beater shirt and his cutoff jeans that he probably got in a yard sale for $1.00, and starts saying to my brother, “You uuuglyyyy.” He’s been saying that to my brother since he was three. It was funny back then, but not so funny anymore. Still we continue to laugh at it now because we think it makes him feel better. Also, since he had a stroke a few years ago I don’t really think he can come up with new jokes. The dogs and the parrots are always making noise, adding to the chaos. Tippy the dog is always jumping to try to eat my crackers, and, of course, Abuelo Mel is always feeding him my food.
When you look up at the ceiling you can barely see it. It’s completely covered in baskets from every Latin American culture and the many yard sales my grandmother goes to every weekend. My favorite ones are the Panamanian ones because I know they are special to my grandmother. Living in the United States, I know her life is different and that every day she misses her grandchildren in Panama. Also, she misses the way of life and the warm people who surrounded her when she lived in Panama. She tells me stories about how she used to be the most beautiful woman and how all the boys would stand outside her window and throw pebbles at it. She would wake up in the middle of the night and they’d recite poems or give her serenades.
Everywhere around the kitchen is her collection of black and white cows. She has cow salt and pepper shakers, cow mittens, cow everything. It gives me all the joy in the world when we go and visit and she’s always excited to show me any new addition to her collection. It amuses me how my grandmother keeps holding on to her inner child. Something as simple as a cow tablecloth fills her with happiness. I don’t know why we all gravitate towards the kitchen or why we sit there for hours after we’re done eating, but the feeling of love that is there seems to keep us glued to those chairs, long after the dishes have been cleared from the table.
sábado, 17 de octubre de 2009
Second Chances
Click, my helmet was secure. I had my life jacket on. Our raft was full with air and we were excited that our river rafting adventure was about to begin.
It was early in the morning, too early if you ask me, to go anywhere, let alone rafting. I just looked at how the east side of the river began to clear and animals everywhere were appearing in front of me. The skyline began with a beautiful yellow and ended with rosy pink. The sun made a perfect reflection in the water. It was as if I could touch it. Our rafting instructor began to show us how to control the water and by always applying force when you began rowing and the usual safety rules. I dozed off, and didn’t really pay attention to this because what are the chances that anything could ever happen to me? I kept looking at the clouds. One made the shape of a heart and the other one looked like a flower. I came back to earth and was able to hear the most important rule: Never, under any circumstances, panic.
So off we were and the day began for us. The rafting instructors divided us into two groups. The first one included the moms and the smaller children. We knew they couldn’t handle too much paddling because the waters were rough and at times tiring, so they were off with the other crew. Then it was us; the stronger ones, four boys and three girls. We thought we were pretty balanced off. Then began the hard part, the paddling. The excitement that ran through my body was like a rush of adrenaline. It woke up my sense of adventure and I was loving every minute of it. The water splashed and everybody was laughing because even though my cousins and I didn’t want to get our hair wet it was inevitable.
Every time a strong current came we would work together as a team and try to fight through it. We were beating every other raft behind us and we loved to brag about it. We even made our own victory dance. We would raise our paddles up in the air and splash them in the water. The sound it made was so loud that it made us stronger. Another current came but this time it had a sucking pit of despair. It felt no mercy for anyone and nothing came out of it. We began to row as hard as we could. I knew we would get by this one like the other ones, but this feeling of panic began to rush slowly rushing through my spine.
This whirlpool began to suck us in. It happened faster than I could react. Than “thing” sucked up the raft and everybody jumped in different directions. I was lucky enough to end up right in the middle of the whirlpool. Lucky, ha right. I couldn’t help but panic. Water was coming at me everywhere. I didn’t know where to go. My throat closed and I couldn’t breathe. White, that’s all I saw, nothing else. I had never experienced near death. You never really think it could happen to you. In that moment as I was trying to fight the force of the water to get out I just thought, please God don’t let this be my end. It couldn’t be. I wasn’t ready. I was struggling and trying to reach for the top, I thought I was looking at the sun but it all faded. I was twirling in every direction hoping that this time it would lead me to the top of the river. In that moment calmness took over me and I just gave up. I let the water take me and I just put my life into destiny’s hands. If it was my moment, I would go. All of a sudden this insane force grabbed my hips and flung me high and strong enough to make me jump out of the water. Those who saw me think it was just the water but I think it was my guardian angel. I believe that she realized it wasn’t my time to go. God wasn’t quite ready for me. I coughed and let all that water come out of my body. After that, I was in tears and just wanted to hug my mommy. I kept screaming “Mommy, mommy.” As crazy as this moment was, when I finally was wrapped in her arms she couldn’t stop laughing. She told me I was being a baby and that nobody was going anywhere anytime soon. But I just looked up and thanked the sky.
It was early in the morning, too early if you ask me, to go anywhere, let alone rafting. I just looked at how the east side of the river began to clear and animals everywhere were appearing in front of me. The skyline began with a beautiful yellow and ended with rosy pink. The sun made a perfect reflection in the water. It was as if I could touch it. Our rafting instructor began to show us how to control the water and by always applying force when you began rowing and the usual safety rules. I dozed off, and didn’t really pay attention to this because what are the chances that anything could ever happen to me? I kept looking at the clouds. One made the shape of a heart and the other one looked like a flower. I came back to earth and was able to hear the most important rule: Never, under any circumstances, panic.
So off we were and the day began for us. The rafting instructors divided us into two groups. The first one included the moms and the smaller children. We knew they couldn’t handle too much paddling because the waters were rough and at times tiring, so they were off with the other crew. Then it was us; the stronger ones, four boys and three girls. We thought we were pretty balanced off. Then began the hard part, the paddling. The excitement that ran through my body was like a rush of adrenaline. It woke up my sense of adventure and I was loving every minute of it. The water splashed and everybody was laughing because even though my cousins and I didn’t want to get our hair wet it was inevitable.
Every time a strong current came we would work together as a team and try to fight through it. We were beating every other raft behind us and we loved to brag about it. We even made our own victory dance. We would raise our paddles up in the air and splash them in the water. The sound it made was so loud that it made us stronger. Another current came but this time it had a sucking pit of despair. It felt no mercy for anyone and nothing came out of it. We began to row as hard as we could. I knew we would get by this one like the other ones, but this feeling of panic began to rush slowly rushing through my spine.
This whirlpool began to suck us in. It happened faster than I could react. Than “thing” sucked up the raft and everybody jumped in different directions. I was lucky enough to end up right in the middle of the whirlpool. Lucky, ha right. I couldn’t help but panic. Water was coming at me everywhere. I didn’t know where to go. My throat closed and I couldn’t breathe. White, that’s all I saw, nothing else. I had never experienced near death. You never really think it could happen to you. In that moment as I was trying to fight the force of the water to get out I just thought, please God don’t let this be my end. It couldn’t be. I wasn’t ready. I was struggling and trying to reach for the top, I thought I was looking at the sun but it all faded. I was twirling in every direction hoping that this time it would lead me to the top of the river. In that moment calmness took over me and I just gave up. I let the water take me and I just put my life into destiny’s hands. If it was my moment, I would go. All of a sudden this insane force grabbed my hips and flung me high and strong enough to make me jump out of the water. Those who saw me think it was just the water but I think it was my guardian angel. I believe that she realized it wasn’t my time to go. God wasn’t quite ready for me. I coughed and let all that water come out of my body. After that, I was in tears and just wanted to hug my mommy. I kept screaming “Mommy, mommy.” As crazy as this moment was, when I finally was wrapped in her arms she couldn’t stop laughing. She told me I was being a baby and that nobody was going anywhere anytime soon. But I just looked up and thanked the sky.
jueves, 24 de septiembre de 2009
Numb
Complete emptiness. I found out my parents were getting divorced, and my only reaction was to wonder why my brother’s were crying. I already knew it was coming, how could they not have known? I seem to have just zoomed out in my mind and connected myself to what I considered reality. This reality was one in which nothing touches me. There aren’t any emotions so that means there is no pain.
Being hurt, crying, simply not understanding; it’s just not my way of viewing things. I could see my little brother crying. I almost seemed to connect to his pain, the more I tried to feel and understand the less human I felt. Why am I like that? I think it probably has to do with the time my mother told me my grandmother was going to die. It was enough for me to not want to be associated with pain anymore. Every time I feel my walls are about to let someone in I zoom into my world and barricade them from coming in. I believe that if you ever begin to care for someone they will either leave you or betray you. That is why I don’t take that risk. It’s my way of protecting myself.
This has been proven to me time and time again, every time my so called friends begin to understand the real me I feel that they can somehow use it against me. The only slight connection I have ever felt to emotions is laughter. I think this is the only way of viewing life or at least if the glass is half empty I don’t have to think about where that is leading to, all I know is that I have to find a way of not feeling anything when it is completely gone.
Some admit their hearts are evil, others are saints, and I’m just in the middle; in limbo. Why do I have such a hard time writing an essay, it’s probably because my true emotions are hidden under massive layers that even I have a hard time getting to them. The last time I probably had a mere connection to sadness was at my grandmother’s funeral, seeing my best friend Lucy, there just wanting to support me and help me deal with my pain. What pain? That unbearable feeling of not having my grandmother the one who used to understand me better than anybody not be there. The only one who would come and get me in the middle of the night because my brothers were being mean and didn’t want to include me in their boy games. The tears strolled down and a real friend was there to grab me and hug me until everything finally came out. My feeling were there bare naked. It felt weird, I almost felt human. To me it was another lifetime. I know someday I will show these feelings, because I understand they will always be there deep inside me. I’m not ready to bring them out. To let the world know Chelsea, the fragile one. That is why this class troubles me, because it’s a class based on emotions, and I’m always trying to reach the level peers. Everybody seems to always carry their hearts on their sleeves, and I wonder why would they do that? Why do they want to feel pain? Put the walls back up and take a step back, that’s my advice to all of you.
Being hurt, crying, simply not understanding; it’s just not my way of viewing things. I could see my little brother crying. I almost seemed to connect to his pain, the more I tried to feel and understand the less human I felt. Why am I like that? I think it probably has to do with the time my mother told me my grandmother was going to die. It was enough for me to not want to be associated with pain anymore. Every time I feel my walls are about to let someone in I zoom into my world and barricade them from coming in. I believe that if you ever begin to care for someone they will either leave you or betray you. That is why I don’t take that risk. It’s my way of protecting myself.
This has been proven to me time and time again, every time my so called friends begin to understand the real me I feel that they can somehow use it against me. The only slight connection I have ever felt to emotions is laughter. I think this is the only way of viewing life or at least if the glass is half empty I don’t have to think about where that is leading to, all I know is that I have to find a way of not feeling anything when it is completely gone.
Some admit their hearts are evil, others are saints, and I’m just in the middle; in limbo. Why do I have such a hard time writing an essay, it’s probably because my true emotions are hidden under massive layers that even I have a hard time getting to them. The last time I probably had a mere connection to sadness was at my grandmother’s funeral, seeing my best friend Lucy, there just wanting to support me and help me deal with my pain. What pain? That unbearable feeling of not having my grandmother the one who used to understand me better than anybody not be there. The only one who would come and get me in the middle of the night because my brothers were being mean and didn’t want to include me in their boy games. The tears strolled down and a real friend was there to grab me and hug me until everything finally came out. My feeling were there bare naked. It felt weird, I almost felt human. To me it was another lifetime. I know someday I will show these feelings, because I understand they will always be there deep inside me. I’m not ready to bring them out. To let the world know Chelsea, the fragile one. That is why this class troubles me, because it’s a class based on emotions, and I’m always trying to reach the level peers. Everybody seems to always carry their hearts on their sleeves, and I wonder why would they do that? Why do they want to feel pain? Put the walls back up and take a step back, that’s my advice to all of you.
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