tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80947361688889586682024-02-19T07:57:20.727-08:00Casey's Creative Writing BlogAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-17109918684976179932014-01-19T19:49:00.002-08:002014-01-21T07:32:25.764-08:00The Buried Life(1) Author's Note:<br>
So this video I created is based off of The Buried Life. This video shows my bucket list, the things I truly want to do in life that I feel I need to complete. Only 25 of my items on the list are visually represented out of the 50 I have.<br>
When I first heard that we were doing this project, I got so inspired. Eventually, that feeling faded once I left my creative writing class. It just wasn't my own creation of inspiration. Once I made my own bucket list, carefully choosing what I felt and knew I can and will do, I felt that inspiration come back except more pronounced than before. Once you create something like this, to me it's one of the first building blocks of hope. I still have this hope and will continue to have it till I cross out everything that is on that list. It's like a constant firm but gentle shove in the direction of who you want to be.<br>
I know a lot of these items on my list aren't all that out there or even exciting to some, but to me even the little things deserve attention and recognition. Choosing these things to put on my list actually took me a while longer than I would like to admit but I wanted to be really sure that none of them were fillers or something that I know I would back out of last minute. All of these things are within my grasp or can be. I hope my list helps others recognize some things they might not have realized they wanted to do and hopefully gives you a little insight to who I am.<br>
<br>
(2) My Bucket List (Not in the same order as in the video)<br>
<div class="MsoNormal">
1. Have my first flight on an airplane<o:p></o:p></div>
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2. Buy and learn how to play the guitar<o:p></o:p></div>
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3. Go on a trip to New York City<o:p></o:p></div>
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4. Write my own book*<o:p></o:p></div>
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5. Adopt a cat or kitten when I live on my own*<o:p></o:p></div>
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6. Pay for someone else's groceries or meal *<o:p></o:p></div>
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7. Volunteer somewhere consistently<o:p></o:p></div>
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8. Have a birthday party at sky zone<o:p></o:p></div>
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9. Travel to a different continent<o:p></o:p></div>
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10. Go wherever I want to do what I’ll love*<o:p></o:p></div>
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11. Go to an aquarium for a day*<o:p></o:p></div>
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12. Run a marathon<o:p></o:p></div>
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13. Love myself as much as I love everyone around me*<o:p></o:p></div>
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14. Have a pen pal<o:p></o:p></div>
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15. Donate blood<o:p></o:p></div>
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16. See the Eiffel Tower in person<o:p></o:p></div>
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17. Meet my idol Demi Lovato *<o:p></o:p></div>
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18. Dye some of my hair more wildly<o:p></o:p></div>
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19. Get a meaningful tattoo<o:p></o:p></div>
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20. Run in the rain and appreciate the storm*<o:p></o:p></div>
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21. Become more independent and self-sufficient<o:p></o:p></div>
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22. Learn to actually cook*<o:p></o:p></div>
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23. Make something handmade*<o:p></o:p></div>
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24. Spend the day on a museum tour/tour for myself*<o:p></o:p></div>
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25. Go on a double decker bus<o:p></o:p></div>
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26. Ride a horse*<o:p></o:p></div>
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27. Get a nose ring<o:p></o:p></div>
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28. Make a photo
album<o:p></o:p></div>
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29. Visit all the World’s oceans*<o:p></o:p></div>
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30. Spend some of winter somewhere warm*<o:p></o:p></div>
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31. Spend an entire day just reading in a library*<o:p></o:p></div>
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32. Go on a scary theme park ride*<o:p></o:p></div>
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33. Never watch another horror movie again<o:p></o:p></div>
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34. Volunteer to present a project first<o:p></o:p></div>
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35. Go on a hike through a forest*<o:p></o:p></div>
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36. Watch both a sunrise and sunset in one day*<o:p></o:p></div>
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37. Go on a big scavenger hunt<o:p></o:p></div>
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38. Take my little sisters out somewhere for a fun day, just
us<o:p></o:p></div>
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39. Fall in love<o:p></o:p></div>
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40. Learn to speak less and listen more*<o:p></o:p></div>
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41. Go up in a hot air balloon*<o:p></o:p></div>
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42. Have photography as a pastime*<o:p></o:p></div>
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43. Learn archery*<o:p></o:p></div>
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44. Go swimming with dolphins<o:p></o:p></div>
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45. Give a heartfelt speech in front of a large crowd<o:p></o:p></div>
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46. Take an art class despite my lack of skills*<o:p></o:p></div>
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47. Go a whole day without saying no to someone*<o:p></o:p></div>
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48. Learn and enjoy myself in another culture in another
country<o:p></o:p></div>
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49. Have a conversation with Jennifer Lawrence<o:p></o:p></div>
<br>
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50. Make a bucket list* <o:p></o:p></div>
<br>
*means it's in the video<br>
<br>
(3) Video!<div><br></div><div><a href="http://animoto.com/play/ssL7LV0spbZNxyS0oaxYDg">http://animoto.com/play/ssL7LV0spbZNxyS0oaxYDg</a> <br>
<br>
(4) Now What?<br>
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I think one of the important but still simple points on my
bucket list would be number 36. Watch both a sunrise and a sunset in one day. I
don't know exactly why I decided to have to watch them both in one day. Maybe
so I can get the feeling of how long and how important a day really is. Also because
I always feel so calm, small and awestruck by the beauty of the sun bringing
its colours into the sky. All of my problems seem to melt away because at least
it's either a new day, or the end to whatever the day has brought. It's my sort
of positive thought for the day, yet it's more of a subconscious feeling of
hope rather than the actual thought. I think everyone should take moments to
appreciate the beauty and calmness you can get out of watching both sunrises
and sunsets.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A lot of my goals on my bucket list were a little extreme
for me. A lot of the things I put I do
want to do, but often don't have the guts for or my shyness in certain
situations prevents me from wanting to do. I know one day I will get over it.
That's not a doubt in my mind. And when I do I will set off and not be afraid
to do these things. For now I know this is something I or anyone else can do
without fear and it is something important to me, not just a filler. My Now
What? Doesn’t have to be some huge adventure to embark upon like other people
might want to do. That's not exactly something I want to do and that's okay. I
start off small and just maybe I'll build myself into going on my own
adventures.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-8257279348684603802014-01-08T20:01:00.001-08:002014-01-08T20:12:39.066-08:00Life Adventure<div><br></div><div><br></div><div>It was cold. That was the first thing he registered. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw a faint red glow emanating further inside. It all started when he had begun to feel too cooped up after playing video games for hours on end. He realized he needed to get outside when he found himself pacing consistently around his room for half an hour. He needed to live his own adventure, as much as any twelve-year-old wanted to. Especially Travis Wright. So he silently slid outside and started his hike through the forest near his home. </div><div>It was early December and as he trekked through the woods his mind wandered further and further. Soon he found himself in front of a building slightly smaller than the size of his house, bleaker than the gray winter sky. Travis hadn’t realized how long he had been walking for, but now that he was here, something compelled him to get inside. Even though he wouldn’t mention this to anyone, he was a little scared of what was in this building in the middle of the forest and was slightly comforted with the hope that if he didn’t make it out someone would at least know that he had gone out exploring by his twitter posts.</div><div>It had been a long day and Mark Hudson needed to get home. Guarding the structure of a building he had made into his laboratory all day was terribly boring and he felt exhausted from the dragged out length of the day. Normally, he double locked and then bolted the metal door closed but all he could think about was getting home and sinking into sleep, forgetting to lock it up. He only managed to slide the bolt home and then left feeling unprepared for the long way he had to go to get back home. </div><div>Travis looked at the door and saw that there was a bolt slid and a couple locks. His heart sank when he saw this but decided to slide out the bolt and try to see if it was possibly unlocked. To his great surprise the door opened without protest. This is when he had stumbled in and saw the red glow and felt the warmth inside. Once he was further inside he saw rows upon rows of glass cases. He frowned as he tried to figure out what on earth they could be. They were heart-shaped and coloured red like one, but something felt off about it all. He stood there puzzling over the entrapped hearts for a few minutes before he slowly began to feel more and more drawn to them. Suddenly, he lunged for one before he could fully comprehend what he was doing and lifted the glass casing, sinking his fingers into the soft warmth of the heart. A shuddering “No!” thundered out into the closed air of the building. Travis was too overwhelmed with the feeling he had from the power he felt. As soon as he had touched the heart it had disappeared and now he felt better than ever. </div><div>Dr. Hudson was astonished. He had remembered that he had forgotten to completely lock up his laboratory and headed back grumbling to himself while heading back the way he came. He knew something was wrong when he saw the door slightly ajar and rushed inside just in time to see the young boy grab one of the lives. He screamed “No!” though he knew it was too late. The boy had absorbed the life that had been in the form of the heart. He rushed towards the boy and gently but firmly grabbed a hold of him as to prevent him from touching another one. As he quickly assessed what was going on, he sighed in obvious relief when he saw that all the other hearts were still well preserved in their cases. </div><div>“Wh-who are you?” the boy quietly and shakily inquired. He had slowly disentangled himself from the professor and now looked at him with a hint of fear showing in his small brown eyes. </div><div>“I think since this is my lab, the better question would be who are you and who do you think you are for touching things that aren’t yours and breaking and entering into places?” Dr. Hudson ranted on. Normally he wouldn’t have quite gone on like that at such a young child but his exhaustion was showing and he was on edge with what this boy might do now that he had the power the heart would bring him. He turned it over in his mind, trying to process it. He decided it would be best to tell the boy would he had done and the consequences it would result in. </div><div>The man looked gravely at the boy and guessed he was only about twelve or thirteen at oldest. “How do you feel after touching that heart?” he gently asked. </div><div>“I-I feel good?” the boy risked saying. He felt it wasn’t such a good answer considering this man found him in his lab but found that it was still the truth. He remembered how his mom always said that honesty was the best policy and hoped it still applied in this situation.</div><div>“That feeling is because of the heart you touched. Specifically, that heart was a life. Not someone else’s, but an extra life that I created. You see I created these hearts hoping to save humanity. Hopefully win a Nobel peace prize. I soon realized this this could have too many drawbacks.” Mark reminisced. “People would become greedy and fight for them. Kill for them. The complete opposite of what they were created for. I decided it would be best for humanity to keep them secret and to stop their production. I know now that it is best to let nature run its course when bad things happen. It was wrong of me to try to offset this delicate balance.” He hadn’t broken eye contact with the boy till now, glancing down at his feet waiting for the boy to comprehend what he was saying. </div><div>“…What do I do now?” the boy questioned. He wasn’t sure what he could do now. Would he just have to go about like normal and hope he didn’t die suddenly so no one questioned why he was still alive?</div><div>Travis perked up when he noticed the hopeful expression stretched across the scientist’s face. “Luckily for you, I have created a machine that will suck out the extra heart. It’s foolproof! It will only suck out the extra life, but never the original life that a person was granted.”<br>Mark had almost forgotten about the contraption and felt joy at the thought of the child not having this burden upon his young shoulders. </div><div>Dr. Hudson had uncurled his hands that he had kept clenched from the stress of the situation and rushed off to find his invention while Travis waited expectantly, holding his breath while his own heart pounded wildly in his chest. Mark came back holding a small tube with blinking lights and a glass ball part at one end opening up into the tube. “Think of it like a vacuum.” He explained. “Just put it in your mouth and I’ll push this button right here,” he said pointing to a small remote held in his hand, “and you’ll feel a slight pulling sensation, but I promise all will be fine and you can be on your way.” </div><div>Only a few minutes later and the professor was explaining to Travis that no one could ever know about the hearts, or of the lab that Dr. Hudson guarded. Travis immediately agreed and said he understood. He didn’t want these lives falling into the wrong hands and being misused either. Travis left with a quick apology and thanks and headed back home. He knew for sure that he would never find video games quite as exciting again. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYU7FdVkWqfOvhqvLuEZvLBE2xMaCk67bu1bdU0oY53529kV0oOKIUDHPdya8kbnEPF-xR2dMmQQH_RVxx4YMzM81sv0ksnfLQPmU5SMxG0_TktFDZVUfp28mAeCD0gQKeXnlhpKmymxl/s640/blogger-image-2081648806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYU7FdVkWqfOvhqvLuEZvLBE2xMaCk67bu1bdU0oY53529kV0oOKIUDHPdya8kbnEPF-xR2dMmQQH_RVxx4YMzM81sv0ksnfLQPmU5SMxG0_TktFDZVUfp28mAeCD0gQKeXnlhpKmymxl/s640/blogger-image-2081648806.jpg"></a></div><a href="http://io9.com/concept-art-writing-prompt-a-boy-in-the-hall-of-hearts-1465643422">http://io9.com/concept-art-writing-prompt-a-boy-in-the-hall-of-hearts-1465643422</a></div><div><br></div><div>On twitter:</div><div>@traviswright675</div><div>@markhudson617</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-21174833308723059342013-12-10T08:35:00.000-08:002013-12-10T08:35:11.782-08:00Random AdditionSo, in trying to keep my personal additions going, I am going to talk about one of my situational perfectionisms that I am dealing with right now. My perfect attendance. A few weeks ago I saw that I have no absences or even lates to any of my classes. So in my mind that means "wow you're doing something right, challenge accepted." So as soon as I thought that, I got bronchitis. At first I'm like "yeah I can totally deal with this." And now it has gotten worse and I am now double sick which just means I also have a cold. My cold is making me very scatterbrained. Well, more than usual. I walked into school thinking "why are there all these decorations in the cafeteria? What month is it? Wait it's decorated because there's a holiday coming...RIGHT Christmas!" and I became so disappointed in myself. I should be at home resting but no I really want this perfect attendance so please wish me luck in this endeavor because every cough is a stab to the chest. Have a good day, whoever's reading this!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-37295422428091738772013-12-10T08:25:00.001-08:002013-12-10T08:25:04.044-08:00Just posting this because I seriously miss fall and this sight was so
much more beautiful when I was walking to school one day<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNtWY7aFsnndismfUPDr2EmdAS7zfiLb742WXcisHICDV0bwIg4PRocGi2K-Giw91XJwlJZujcjfLfEfqj3pkWsHN-4-Safq6rMjOyLZ3uBPQm2iBK6IUW_GGLJSGNAfBk3J8CThdacEL/s640/blogger-image-588043716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfNtWY7aFsnndismfUPDr2EmdAS7zfiLb742WXcisHICDV0bwIg4PRocGi2K-Giw91XJwlJZujcjfLfEfqj3pkWsHN-4-Safq6rMjOyLZ3uBPQm2iBK6IUW_GGLJSGNAfBk3J8CThdacEL/s640/blogger-image-588043716.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-5203824167552503052013-12-02T08:32:00.002-08:002013-12-02T08:35:42.013-08:00Dialogue Assignment"I've seen some weird things," <span style="background-color: #674ea7;">Dorothy sighed,</span> <span style="background-color: #3d85c6;">plopping down beside Alice.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #3d85c6;"><br /></span>
"I've <i>lived</i> through some weird things"<span style="background-color: #674ea7;"> Alice rasped.</span> "Let me tell you, I almost lost it on way too many occasions." <span style="background-color: #3d85c6;">She pushed her hair back, shutting her eyes</span>.<br />
<br />
"The road I followed was confusing to say the least," <span style="background-color: #674ea7;">Dorothy said.</span><br />
<br />
"Ha!" <span style="background-color: #674ea7;">Alice laughed</span>. "At least you had a road," <span style="background-color: #3d85c6;">a slight glare being thrown in the direction of the brunette.</span><br />
<br />
"Excuse me," <span style="background-color: #674ea7;">Dorothy sneered</span>. "Did you encounter talking animals and creatures that should be inanimate?"<br />
<br />
"Every single step of the way," <span style="background-color: #674ea7;">Alice shouted</span>, <span style="background-color: #3d85c6;">throwing her hands up in exasperation</span>.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: #3d85c6;">Tears began to leak out of the corners of Dorothy's eyes.</span> "I wasn't even in Kansas anymore for crying out loud!" <span style="background-color: #674ea7;">Dorothy sobbed</span>.<br />
<br />
"I get that was hard," <span style="background-color: #674ea7;">Alice relented.</span> "But did you shrink and grow and feel like you were on drugs?"<br />
<br />
"Okay, fine, you win," <span style="background-color: #674ea7;">Dorothy muttered, defeated.</span><br />
<br />
"Thank you," <span style="background-color: #674ea7;">Alice breathed</span>. <span style="background-color: #3d85c6;">A small smile finally appeared her face.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #6fa8dc;"><br /></span>
Legend: <span style="background-color: #674ea7;">dialogue tags</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: #3d85c6;">Non-verbal body language</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/db783000641fa84f5a02f1ac2e680387/tumblr_mt78rx71yV1qee12to1_r1_1280.png" height="300" width="400" /><br />
<a href="http://writingprompts.tumblr.com/image/61377693601">http://writingprompts.tumblr.com/image/61377693601</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-57873838904421711802013-11-25T07:57:00.001-08:002013-11-25T07:57:17.064-08:00November 24/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrA49mvfLaiU5JDjQHFXud_-eAD2mCMCGU1byB1-2v3tCmRNaIZ0ijKL4TsTia-ANElmX5k0ricyDlNlVJMCWDc0D0ZPvOa0eEGk9BxmVDES3S9CFunGOhvVRRn_H3aHmB2cgYdmqHcmuS/s640/blogger-image-189646420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrA49mvfLaiU5JDjQHFXud_-eAD2mCMCGU1byB1-2v3tCmRNaIZ0ijKL4TsTia-ANElmX5k0ricyDlNlVJMCWDc0D0ZPvOa0eEGk9BxmVDES3S9CFunGOhvVRRn_H3aHmB2cgYdmqHcmuS/s640/blogger-image-189646420.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-63677911267968649062013-11-25T07:56:00.003-08:002013-11-25T07:56:55.674-08:00November 23/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrL2SPGxvOJSJ1_3JJHUp6LA_cAgA0bQHUyzq4ob-avkNt4a5HxmzJLIf6N0DYpF7MSG0bYmABGZv2cyR9MZ4EbMimkwlIQnt00bgoUOCq6iQCV8XvrZE_vFkFejFuh7Vc4OiiKuM-4Snz/s640/blogger-image-1358678878.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrL2SPGxvOJSJ1_3JJHUp6LA_cAgA0bQHUyzq4ob-avkNt4a5HxmzJLIf6N0DYpF7MSG0bYmABGZv2cyR9MZ4EbMimkwlIQnt00bgoUOCq6iQCV8XvrZE_vFkFejFuh7Vc4OiiKuM-4Snz/s640/blogger-image-1358678878.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-15652559943354732702013-11-25T07:56:00.001-08:002013-11-25T07:56:35.889-08:00November 22/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSAlshc5PJ42pFtjtAwxD_lDG_F-qbsamCyxdepcFYK_c64Y2hITqJwsNw18pBunC2wZnaUHrciXVLiDH-t1oS-EeCSKUe8RoLdWYcsOpFU9ioiWe2wfT67vgHK9MImPqgW6mc7fx5Dddz/s640/blogger-image-1843106654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSAlshc5PJ42pFtjtAwxD_lDG_F-qbsamCyxdepcFYK_c64Y2hITqJwsNw18pBunC2wZnaUHrciXVLiDH-t1oS-EeCSKUe8RoLdWYcsOpFU9ioiWe2wfT67vgHK9MImPqgW6mc7fx5Dddz/s640/blogger-image-1843106654.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-76290094030821369782013-11-22T09:32:00.002-08:002013-11-22T09:32:53.866-08:00Dialogue Thoughts<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->i) To start off my terrible deed of
eavesdropping, I wandered about the school for a few minutes until I thought “Well
where do you usually see students at this time of day in which there is class
going on?” and so I came to the conclusion that the front doors would be the
best outlook, since students would be skipping or on their spares at this time
and might want to leave the school grounds. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
ii) The conversation that I listened to
didn’t take place that long; especially considering it’s by the front doors, so
only about a few minutes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
iii) The dialogue I heard was between about
four guys probably in grade 11 or 12 for sure. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
iv) Truthfully I was ecstatic to play the
class’s version of “super spy” as I call it. I felt like I was undercover and I
adjusted my behavior to what the situation called for, which wasn’t much. No
one really expects the little girl holding her binder and writing things down
to be spying and listening in to your conversations. I made sure that I didn’t
keep looking at them though. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Since the conversation wasn’t all that long, I gained
some but it was enough. Everyone in the conversation sounded comfortable,
quiet, and they all seemed to be chatting equally and the conversation was of
light topic, just some joking around and talking about their days being good. I
get that. People usually talk with people they can be comfortable around. Why would
you talk to someone who made you feel uncomfortable?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I can apply this to my writing because I know,
unless the emotions or topics are distressing or strained in any way; the
conversation will be very comfortable no matter the topic. I don`t have to
exceedingly worry about the way certain characters will react in situations in
any stories I might write if they are a generally relaxed character like the
boys I observed. In regular writing, I can apply this by keeping things simple.
No need to go and push things further than need be. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Personality I found can really show through when
you`re relaxed because of the way you don`t need to watch everything you say.
Dialogue can show that you are a funny or kind hearted or whatever kind of person
by the way you talk, stand, or even what kind of jokes you make. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Once more than two people are in a conversation,
the conversation often becomes conversations and often times there are a lot of
lost words when someone might not be heard or when a topic shifts, which also
happens when more people join a conversation. In group conversations it`s easy
for some people to not have a word in edge wise, or for them to just get pushed
to the side, depending on what you`re talking about. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The most surprising thing I learned about the
way people converse would have to be the way in which conversation flows. I`ve
always kind of known it in the back of my mind, but never has it really been
brought to the surface to me. Conversations with the right set of friends are
endless and they flow smoothly and effortlessly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->7.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->To me, there is a world of differences between
spoken and written conversations. In spoken conversations you can usually tell
what the person you`re speaking to is feeling by their posture, the look they
have in their eyes and what emphasis they are making in conversation by the cadence
of their tone of voice. With written conversation you`re guessing these things
and hoping they mean what you think, or if not, then you have to ask exactly
what they mean, but even then it`s still so much easier to deceive someone over
a text or something like that than in person. Written conversation is dull when
you think about it really. Spoken words bring life to the conversation. <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-35589736122114715742013-11-22T07:45:00.001-08:002013-11-22T07:45:55.409-08:00November 21/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ9fMDI4gJyZi8Jvf3nYwpC4qQUKTKIRiLyzuLzR7PAQpOjAJ8wTHSEfqz0Qmar0PmwlaU67rog6KHWlYa9q0I4brm2o-dpFJen2OsL2IRIXd2GI512n5_9qLXOpbxBBc_TxRpEEx6wX4G/s640/blogger-image--2084440409.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ9fMDI4gJyZi8Jvf3nYwpC4qQUKTKIRiLyzuLzR7PAQpOjAJ8wTHSEfqz0Qmar0PmwlaU67rog6KHWlYa9q0I4brm2o-dpFJen2OsL2IRIXd2GI512n5_9qLXOpbxBBc_TxRpEEx6wX4G/s640/blogger-image--2084440409.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-87574427794278683502013-11-21T07:44:00.001-08:002013-11-21T07:44:51.512-08:00November 20/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEiI_rBdGyi3ykJ0j8SgOfIJac_rF5oY1i4S4Yb8ynPMKsPU8GkC0tY8oy-Yi72wH2iDuuR3kWPWAqSkb0IV2yIAXpUS9WbAVAME1983arCLjy-1zJTwgGdGxcknc2jQkGXuWEXGE5bNv/s640/blogger-image-1015458661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEiI_rBdGyi3ykJ0j8SgOfIJac_rF5oY1i4S4Yb8ynPMKsPU8GkC0tY8oy-Yi72wH2iDuuR3kWPWAqSkb0IV2yIAXpUS9WbAVAME1983arCLjy-1zJTwgGdGxcknc2jQkGXuWEXGE5bNv/s640/blogger-image-1015458661.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-70728061744466912822013-11-20T08:29:00.001-08:002013-11-20T08:29:44.658-08:00Visual Imagery<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I selected this passage in the book “The Time
Traveler’s Wife” because I found it to be simple, yet also packed with meaning
about how this simple act of Henry disappearing is so common for Clare. I also
thought it was very descriptive so I get a clear visual of what’s happening in
that particular moment. It appealed to me because of the different imagery it
brings. Like most, it brings a visual imagery, some auditory, and also some kinesthetic
imagery. Often times a combination of two of these would combine and I found it
interesting for such a short paragraph.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The most common imagery that is in the passage
is visual imagery.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The best piece of imagery I think is in the
passage would be “The wind is roaring in the grass, and we bend into it and
make our way toward the house.” I think this is the best piece because of how
it has all three of the imageries I mentioned. The entire thing is a visual
imagery, while the phrase ”the wind is roaring in the grass is also an
auditory, while also being a kinesthetic because you can easily hear, feel, and
see strong winds blowing through grass. It’s so effective because of the way it’s
such a simple act but also full of description and visuals that it’s easy to imagine
you’re in that place without it being over the top dramatic in description. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->To me this imagery isn’t very positive or
negative on its own. It can be made positive or negative by the passage it’s
been thrown into. This particular visual is kind of negative if used as a
metaphor. Bending into the strong wind might be a metaphor for making her way
through being with Henry who is never permanently with her. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I can’t decide if the mood of this passage is
supposed to be kind of depressing, or if it’s supposed to be foreshadowing, or
possibly both. Since foreshadowing is often both, I am going to go with both. I
think this is it because of how the very last sentence is very short and
clipped and almost freaky if you didn’t know about Henry being a time traveler.
“It’s empty.” I also think this passage has a slight sadness to it because of
the routine that Clare seems to have about folding up Henry’s clothes and
knowing exactly where to put them. It’s only really the easy routine that comes
with this passage and the clipped last sentence that really convey any type of
foreshadowing and sadness to this passage. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span><!--[endif]--><i> </i>I think the purpose to these imageries in
this passage is to let the reader see just how easily Clare has adopted to
Henry disappearing and with how much simplicity she just accepts that now her grandmother
knows about him and what he can do. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
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<img height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_RJJWFYMRvuuKL4jtapv8DpVMTBAi0qci2skB0xZGeMyAhvjHjquIc-ApPAWkRgUdGHQMv5G1RYtZEgmaLOjIgZ8IrlXb3vuQ1lIQBS2xsiZlnf9dolKsFMeYl9GrIuagiQvZNt3O32nC/s640/blogger-image--1905041821.jpg" width="640" /></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-58728191204165876502013-11-20T07:49:00.001-08:002013-11-20T07:49:27.202-08:00November 19/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_L_U-_CtjuUwtPHB_SnE4XqETvH-yr7TGDLpcCB2dkPKF4v1X9iVVfHHsVhRMM2_y3RMrgI0cWy6W7RNfOiLa51ztxGBIWMIaqR3HjR5Ui3AQVjYW9GvTOcYGUqqUvQz5f4VF5VNkMvZ8/s640/blogger-image-1201317370.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_L_U-_CtjuUwtPHB_SnE4XqETvH-yr7TGDLpcCB2dkPKF4v1X9iVVfHHsVhRMM2_y3RMrgI0cWy6W7RNfOiLa51ztxGBIWMIaqR3HjR5Ui3AQVjYW9GvTOcYGUqqUvQz5f4VF5VNkMvZ8/s640/blogger-image-1201317370.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-90562914374347990222013-11-20T07:48:00.001-08:002013-11-20T07:48:53.633-08:00November 18/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLchGZGogvOKBZtqRmSpGysGbjtfIoPXtTYKm8ZwXS5gsYA8_dOXFzqE93xxGK2e8m3cYCPTSnHit_-xgJTCRxsMga5Hc084oEXGVmYklVjluXEZL8J1vVzW86df2ygGk-bEuPGVOXUIF/s640/blogger-image-1189915612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLchGZGogvOKBZtqRmSpGysGbjtfIoPXtTYKm8ZwXS5gsYA8_dOXFzqE93xxGK2e8m3cYCPTSnHit_-xgJTCRxsMga5Hc084oEXGVmYklVjluXEZL8J1vVzW86df2ygGk-bEuPGVOXUIF/s640/blogger-image-1189915612.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-35425935549648831152013-11-18T07:57:00.001-08:002013-11-18T07:57:14.802-08:00November 17/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNFciN1Y2OXQ7oR31UWXg_BmOCZQowDHZ0qfW2V1vhUKmPMb68zQjnP9VTdPul52zf7lr5A2cz5hVUX33A7hg_LyVADeVV09UqtX_4dGtzhZeqlKrBDHC-aOD97HqkPLle3iQZElBiDKzy/s640/blogger-image-915972308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNFciN1Y2OXQ7oR31UWXg_BmOCZQowDHZ0qfW2V1vhUKmPMb68zQjnP9VTdPul52zf7lr5A2cz5hVUX33A7hg_LyVADeVV09UqtX_4dGtzhZeqlKrBDHC-aOD97HqkPLle3iQZElBiDKzy/s640/blogger-image-915972308.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-73082864293568912222013-11-18T07:55:00.001-08:002013-11-18T07:55:43.807-08:00November 16/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9adZUqPOZ-2fJBNrTYRBiSJtp81cabQ8HGyRA0ZEVRc-vnUZ2yEeiwkzNg7bRDMPXPQN8q-qPzs8thDi2rLX72O_TdENoElz4eXzDJQNfNJ392gFfVF97g5pNegURelync4XXTfw8aty/s640/blogger-image-590814227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9adZUqPOZ-2fJBNrTYRBiSJtp81cabQ8HGyRA0ZEVRc-vnUZ2yEeiwkzNg7bRDMPXPQN8q-qPzs8thDi2rLX72O_TdENoElz4eXzDJQNfNJ392gFfVF97g5pNegURelync4XXTfw8aty/s640/blogger-image-590814227.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-10678710701458066332013-11-18T07:54:00.001-08:002013-11-18T07:54:23.367-08:00November 15/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvnP03jGZK3h1tF7fBuaEHO0D94GWqUfADPbEPWuJdB5IVLWMQTfOOo4OeTNrT2XGbM8uYrHAqoBHdKSWJueB9As22DMtWnrD11pzFaW5laDablE4RGieHpMQ5tUMfwo_UuE3CQ_5owG4/s640/blogger-image-860518334.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvnP03jGZK3h1tF7fBuaEHO0D94GWqUfADPbEPWuJdB5IVLWMQTfOOo4OeTNrT2XGbM8uYrHAqoBHdKSWJueB9As22DMtWnrD11pzFaW5laDablE4RGieHpMQ5tUMfwo_UuE3CQ_5owG4/s640/blogger-image-860518334.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-13962655724669365202013-11-18T07:52:00.001-08:002013-11-18T07:52:43.283-08:00November 14/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FFEvwhcjMN_XUvdH0pRn6cg8yU2TmbiUleCSGkyIUJ_HNFkYh2RwTwEH8RSOpzv5J8VqeASxW2QOQyOkmIlid4jaQLwXomWjbiT9U5GVf0Gxy51lIoretk4mEAR31gzpmIEks0DAxr9Q/s640/blogger-image--723438590.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FFEvwhcjMN_XUvdH0pRn6cg8yU2TmbiUleCSGkyIUJ_HNFkYh2RwTwEH8RSOpzv5J8VqeASxW2QOQyOkmIlid4jaQLwXomWjbiT9U5GVf0Gxy51lIoretk4mEAR31gzpmIEks0DAxr9Q/s640/blogger-image--723438590.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-8479934763769676932013-11-14T08:51:00.001-08:002013-11-20T08:25:11.765-08:00Quick Write: Rabid UnicornIt's starting to come to the end of a terrible day. Normally everything is perfect here where only unicorns live. The mountains appear especially vast and dusk is quickly approaching. A breeze stirs the fields and I smell the slightly pungent air. The smell brings disgust and a feeling of dread invades me. Today we have gotten word of a rapid unicorn amongst our secluded bunch. Suddenly I see something dark ahead. In the growing darkness it's hard to make out. Suddenly a courser breeze coming my way brings in the scent and that's all I need before I take off at an almost disorienting speed. The scent that means Rabid. The Rabid One will only bring death and must be destroyed before the disease is carried on. I suddenly crash into it and a sudden coldness overtakes me. The Rabid One is huge, pitch black, hard as stone and even colder. Bright red drips from his mouth and suddenly I get dizzy once I realize that it's blood. I do the only thing I think could work- I charge forward, head bent, hoping to spear him straight through the heart. The air stirs and I realize he moved. Thinking I have to defend myself I stare defiantly in his direction to see a dark shape hurtle towards the path that leads out of our territory. I stand there confused, heart beating wildly, wondering why someone so large and fast would need to run away from me. I wonder who died from being in the path of his rage. Anger courses through me but I don't give chase. Heading through the mountains isn't our territory and he is no longer our problem. Praying that he is killed before his disease spreads, I gallop back home to spread the news of his speedy departure. As I go I see the stars breaking out through the wispy clouds. Relief I can feel is evident on my face. We're safe for now.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<img alt="Concept Art Writing Prompt: The Rabid Unicorn" height="241" src="http://img.gawkerassets.com/img/1926cv85mfa31jpg/ku-xlarge.jpg" width="400" /><br />
<br />
<a href="http://io9.com/concept-art-writing-prompt-the-rabid-unicorn-1441184880">http://io9.com/concept-art-writing-prompt-the-rabid-unicorn-1441184880</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-76535104559431739942013-11-14T07:45:00.001-08:002013-11-14T07:45:33.550-08:00November 13/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1d7RoC8K8cN3hyPDkUfqclZ_el6JBC1fQwRHTnYwizolMfY-69xNA6RtUTQCsm3dcEL0V6rfhG0Z_t6Vn1oiCzKZy0W-TLY7kKhGhJvubKahkG94DpVggB-gBcRnwmLP8k018o0T6K6KY/s640/blogger-image--247739069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1d7RoC8K8cN3hyPDkUfqclZ_el6JBC1fQwRHTnYwizolMfY-69xNA6RtUTQCsm3dcEL0V6rfhG0Z_t6Vn1oiCzKZy0W-TLY7kKhGhJvubKahkG94DpVggB-gBcRnwmLP8k018o0T6K6KY/s640/blogger-image--247739069.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-15437170888270156512013-11-13T08:44:00.001-08:002013-11-13T08:46:20.224-08:00Quick Write: CandyIt's finally here. The scariest night of the year. Thousands, maybe millions of us are savagely ripped apart and eaten while our remains are thrown carelessly away. It's Halloween. I know I'm just a simple Reese Cup, but I have to think about my little Reese's Pieces. What will become of them? Will they be painstakingly eaten one by one? Or will they be spared and thrown away to save themselves by human children who happen to be allergic to our peanutness or just happen to despise our taste? I'm glad we have a slight immunity, being made with peanut butter and all, but also being made of chocolate puts my family and I in the line of fire for the chocoholics. I have to face the inevitable. My children and I will most likely not make it through Halloween. I've buried us at the bottom of the bag we've been handed off to. I'm terrified because we're together, but also immensely relieved. It's only a matter of time. Being at the bottom doesn't always mean safety. I see the hand searching for just the right one of us. I see Rockets leave us, she was always a dear friend of the family. Another hand has shot in. I have been grabbed. I take these precious few seconds to reflect on my life. Having all of my Reese's Pieces. Moving into the community of other candies and making so many friends like Smarties and Rockets. If I could cry I would. If I could scream I would. Suddenly I feel a blinding pain-<br />
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<img src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcqg42itxN1qee12to2_1280.png" height="300" width="400" /></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-86655334925619635082013-11-13T08:27:00.003-08:002013-11-13T08:27:59.651-08:00Quickwrite: MinionsIf I had a set of minions from Despicable Me, I would use them every chance I get. Mostly because they are really adorable no matter what they do, not so much because I'm lazy. I would probably have a whole whack of them mostly so they could carry me places almost like royalty. I would make sure they are well treated and get everything they need. They would also be my friends. Minions are really funny and they speak funny too so I'm sure we would all get along great and have a lot of laughs. It would be like having a ton of friends except I don't think my friends are willing to carry me to most places. Also I would use them if I needed some kind of construction or something like that that I wouldn't be able to do on my own. Mostly because I think the minions are pretty capable, at least more than I am. To say the least, minions would be a welcome addition to my family.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-78098467400751793962013-11-13T08:12:00.000-08:002013-11-13T08:12:12.834-08:00Reading Assignment #6<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
@younghenry <b>Henry :)</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Wait, what’s with all this time travelling? Can ANYONE
explain? #pleasehelpme<o:p></o:p></div>
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@olderhenry <b>Henry DeTamble</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Trust me, you’ll figure it out. I’ll help you whenever
we’re together @younghenry<o:p></o:p></div>
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@younghenry <b>Henry :)</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Thank you so much. This beats ending up naked and/or with
the police even if I don’t like pickpocketing @olderhenry #stillnervous<o:p></o:p></div>
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@clareabshire <b>Time Traveler's Wife</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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@oldhenry will you ever stop leaving? #iwish<o:p></o:p></div>
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@oldhenry <o:p></o:p><b>Henry DeTamble</b></div>
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I’m so sorry. @younghenry has a lot to learn and you know
I can’t control any of this <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">L</span>
<o:p></o:p></div>
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@younghenry <b>Henry :)</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m so glad my first time doing this went well. I was so
nervous. I know it’s what I need to do to survive even though it’s wrong
@olderhenry<o:p></o:p></div>
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@olderhenry <o:p></o:p><b>Henry DeTamble</b></div>
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That’s right. I was right where you were. Remember we are
the same?<o:p></o:p></div>
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@younghenry <b>Henry :)</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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I almost forgot. I wish it wasn’t this way. Why aren’t
there other time travellers besides myself? #wondering<o:p></o:p></div>
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@olderhenry <b>Henry DeTamble</b></div>
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@clareabshire remember that time you threw your shoe at
me? I certainly do #stillbleeding</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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@clareabshire <o:p></o:p><b>Time Traveler's Wife</b></div>
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Oh! I am pretty sure that I never threw my shoe at you?
But why are you bleeding?<o:p></o:p></div>
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@olderhenry <o:p></o:p><b>Henry DeTamble</b></div>
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You did, just as a little girl. You do have a good throw
though. <o:p></o:p></div>
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@clareabshire <b>Time Traveler's Wife</b> </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Oh dear. Well you know how stubborn I am. Don’t think I
was any different as a child. So sorry I guess I better fix up my mess :/ <o:p></o:p></div>
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@clareabshire <o:p></o:p><b>Time Traveler's Wife</b></div>
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You know, @olderhenry, I think I remember bringing you
clothes whenever you stopped in my clearing<o:p></o:p></div>
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@olderhenry <o:p></o:p><b>Henry DeTamble</b></div>
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Yes and I have to tell you that they were horrendous
combinations<o:p></o:p></div>
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@clareabshire <o:p></o:p><b>Time Traveler's Wife</b></div>
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Well I thought you were grateful just for getting any
clothes at all! Better than walking around naked<o:p></o:p></div>
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@olderhenry <o:p></o:p><b>Henry DeTamble</b></div>
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And better than getting caught by the police and making
up some radical explanation<o:p></o:p></div>
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@clareabshire <o:p></o:p><b>Time Traveler's Wife</b></div>
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Anyways do you really expect a young schoolgirl to really
know that much about men’s fashion?<o:p></o:p></div>
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@olderhenry <o:p></o:p><b>Henry DeTamble</b></div>
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I suppose I don’t. I’m just glad you never threw your
shoes at me again ;)<o:p></o:p></div>
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@younghenry<o:p></o:p> <b>Henry :)</b></div>
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Why can’t there be more time travelers @olderhenry? I’ve
never run into another one before? <o:p></o:p></div>
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@olderhenry <o:p></o:p><b>Henry DeTamble</b></div>
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#goodquestion but I think we, well I, am the only one. I
know it’s a lonely way of thinking and I know how disappointed you are now.<o:p></o:p></div>
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@younghenry<o:p></o:p> <b>Henry :)</b></div>
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What!? But if I’m all alone, how will I know for sure
that everything will be okay?<o:p></o:p></div>
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@olderhenry <o:p></o:p><b>Henry DeTamble</b></div>
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Because I am you and I’m alright am I not?<o:p></o:p></div>
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@younghenry<o:p></o:p> <b>Henry :)</b></div>
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I guess that is a big resurence<o:p></o:p></div>
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@olderhenry <o:p></o:p><b>Henry DeTamble</b></div>
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Do you mean reassurance, @younghenry?<o:p></o:p></div>
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@younghenry<o:p></o:p> <b>Henry :)</b></div>
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Oops, yes I do I guess<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-33102111985310367162013-11-13T07:46:00.001-08:002013-11-13T07:46:20.080-08:00November 12/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pU5IxXbIUR2h7gn0EaCCVr0gcLM8dIoPmezmWunEZS_z1WLadtL3pbf4d3oQZ3vt5obdrV1roLYMm3wFOeRsXOpxi_Xc6SJUynR6uuleiLZdtz0FghMui_qLqCk9RAWNcXfWsJ91grGf/s640/blogger-image-520697206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pU5IxXbIUR2h7gn0EaCCVr0gcLM8dIoPmezmWunEZS_z1WLadtL3pbf4d3oQZ3vt5obdrV1roLYMm3wFOeRsXOpxi_Xc6SJUynR6uuleiLZdtz0FghMui_qLqCk9RAWNcXfWsJ91grGf/s640/blogger-image-520697206.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8094736168888958668.post-24522473152551435742013-11-12T08:51:00.001-08:002013-11-12T08:51:21.231-08:00November 11/13<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF2mFYgqMe_4J_F37sXCOuw8V6QgXP1b1apRIafRcHnmVQopQAByzjhytTTysf5QJnd3d2noGYLcMASxC67GsLXHP7YkKxqsunGqDw9TUGo4DHO9eQODXTmh-0mH0hRuY-ZaNd-KMoCBjV/s640/blogger-image--1293131469.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF2mFYgqMe_4J_F37sXCOuw8V6QgXP1b1apRIafRcHnmVQopQAByzjhytTTysf5QJnd3d2noGYLcMASxC67GsLXHP7YkKxqsunGqDw9TUGo4DHO9eQODXTmh-0mH0hRuY-ZaNd-KMoCBjV/s640/blogger-image--1293131469.jpg"></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05762441395988627772noreply@blogger.com0