3. The neighborhood I live in has quite a few houses and people, new places are being currently built. There are a lot of people, though unfortunately I do not know more than a handful. The number of people I know do not care one way or the other about pretty much anything you care to mention. In fact, most of the time they seem completely oblivious to the things going on about them.
5. Justice is when somebody is brought to account for his or her crimes, or when something good happens to one who deserves it. The most unjust thing I can recall is the assassination of MLK jr. He never did anything to hurt anybody. He fought for civil rights, and was killed for it.
6. Personal differences between myself and others can be described as a catalyst. When somebody does not act like most of the rest of the population it annoys me. Like emo’s wtfs up with that who gives a crap about them cutting themselves, boo-hoo go cry about it. Seriously nobody cares. Was that 4 sentences? good
The Darkest Night
For unknown reasons April 20, 2007 was a memorable day. It started as any other Saturday morning, I woke up and had a brief spell of morning haziness-that time right after you wake up nothing seems to be in memory about where you are-and realized that I was at my friend Tonnie’s house. We got up and ate some breakfast and called over a couple more of our friends, within an hour there were about five of us. We spent the day as any other group of teenagers would, hanging out, playing video games; just having fun.
It was that day Tonnie’s grandmother decided to fly in from Arizona, little did we know she was to be the harbinger to that day’s somewhat befuddling events. We, being the accommodating teenagers we are, helped her settle into her room; before we new it dark was settling in, and Tonnie’s mother and grandmother decided to settle in for the night. We decided to bring ourselves outside, and brought some lawn chairs with us, we were planning on just sitting outside with some soda so as not to wake anybody up; this plan went horribly awry.
When the police got there, the light from the car shined me in the eye and for a moment it was the darkest night I could remember, and we were waiting patiently on the sidewalk sitting in our chairs. Of course our story was volunteered by our accuser, an old woman who, in the shadows seemed to be a nice enough women, but her real person would shine through under the blaring white hot light of the flashlights, “They’ve been causing havoc for hours, and drinking God knows what.”
“Please ma’am, calm down and start from the beginning…”
After we had gotten outside with our chairs, we were reasonably quiet, and had nothing better to do than sit and talk. Thirty minutes of talking passed, and we spotted a group of kids no more than two years older than us, five or six strong, carousing along the street. We sat and laughed at their drunkenness as any self-respecting kid would do. Unfortunately, this was a very un-lucky night for us, as it later turned out. As we sat there laughing, the police were being informed of “our” activities.
“You should arrest them all!”
“I’m sorry ma’am, but I need to hear their side of the story before I can do that.”
So we told them… “And that’s how it happened.”
“Well there’s no way to prove who did it, so I’m going to have you buy this lady here a new brick, and a flower, to replace the broken ones.” We hadn’t even known there was anything amiss with her garden.
“I suppose that’s better than being arrested, so fine.”
“Thank you, and have a good evening kids. Ma’am.”
“Yeah whatever,” I grumbled after they had left.
The next morning we took a brick from Tonnie’s mom’s garden and bought a flower resembling the one “we” broke, and that was the end of that. All in all it wasn’t a very exciting night, but it has stuck in my head, and I now know not to be sitting on lawn chairs at 10 O’clock at night on 4/20-it’s bad for my image, though I plan on doing it again sometime.
Text messaging is the new email, it’s become more convenient than actually calling someone. I, myself, text message more often than calling someone, which is to say, that I send quite a few text messages in a day. I admit that sometimes the language I use in text messaging seeps into my everyday writing, but that’s easy enough to remedy. In probably any classroom here in the US you can look up and see kids text messaging, ask these kids, and you’ll see that “txting” is the wave of the future. Examples of txting are present in everything in today’s culture, from movies to books. I haven’t seen kids use this language as more than a joke in face to face communication, but in the future that may change. gtg bbl.
1. A blog is an independent post made by a person, about an experience.
2. MySpace.
3. Comfortable.
4. Browse Internet, play games.
5. None.
6. Because of Internet predators.
7. Not if you’re careful.
8. Same as #4.
9. It’s nothing new, so it’s not really an experience for me.
I have learned, from my independent reading, that nothing lasts forever. “The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again.” from Crossroads of Twilight Page 100, by Robert Jordan.
The book I am currently reading is Knife of Dreams, by Robert Jordan. I chose to read this book because I am reading the series. The series was recommended to me by Ms. Hoke. It is a good book and, unfortunately the last book will be written by a new author because Robert Jordan recently passed away.
