Wednesday, December 5, 2012


Author’s Note:
In the writing piece I wanted to show emotion and really try my best on what it feels to be alone and isolated.


Tell Tale Heart Response

Do you ever get the feeling when you walk into a room and you know everyone is talking about you? I have. It's probably one of the most uncomfortable feeling ever. Not knowing what they’re thinking kills you, so all you do is sit in silence, wondering.

In this short story the main character grows more insane through the whole story. Through obsession and insanity he goes mad. Especially when cops come into his house looking for the victim that he killed. He begins to think that he can hear the beating heart of the old man under the floor, but in reality it’s all in his head, it's actually his heart beating louder and louder.

Though some people can be weird and a little creepy, are they really obsessed? Obsessed is when your whole world revolves around one thing and you can’t stop thinking about it no matter how hard you try. Obsessed is where you come to the point of where you’re hurting yourself. You don’t have to be obsessed with a person you could just be obsessed with another person’s part of their body. In the short story I read “Tell Tale Heart” the main character is obsessed not with the old man that he wakes up to see at midnight every night, but his eye. Every night he stares at him, not moving just standing there, slowly opening his lantern shining a small amount of light on just his eye, or in his case “the eye of a vulture” which is what the old man thinks of his eye. There is no logical reason of why the man watched him for countless hours of the night.

This short story was very hard for me to connect with because I’ve never been obsessed with anyone or anything before. The way I connected with it was in a totally different way. I thought about the old man instead of the main character. I thought of the fear he must have had when he abruptly woke up and knew someone was watching him. The author did a great job in that scene of the story of playing with fear. It’s a really creepy and scary feeling when you're in your bed alone, late at night, vulnerable. Not having anywhere to run or hide, and as the main character is watching him it made the old man feel vulnerable. This is what I feel sometimes, feeling as if people are watching, staring, thinking and talking about you. You feel just off balance, awkward, and many more emotions all wrapped in one all at the same time, and you don’t know what to do, or how to act. In the story the man just listened and was just sitting on his bed waiting for the main character to make a move which is exactly what I do except in different terms. There are many moments when you get that feeling that people are watching you and you don’t know what to do. Your heart stops, and your body is silent for seconds or minutes not knowing how to respond. Your ears are chiming in, seeing if you can interpret any of the words that come out of their mouths. Then, you give up just like how the victim in the story gave up on listening for the main character when he fell asleep.

The fear of being alone and isolated from the world is part of what the author is trying to tell us. That if you take away family and friends and anything happy in your life it can make you go insane. Where sometimes your thoughts can get twisted, and make you go crazy. Another thing that he might have been trying to convey is the fear of not knowing what others are thinking. It can drive you crazy and you come up with things in your head that they can be thinking. The idea is to keep love ones close to you so you don’t fall from reality and go into your own world, being alone. Being alone is the worst feeling in the world. It’s the feeling of loneliness and sadness.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012




Authors Note:
For the first time I wrote a more advanced stream of consciousness focusing on a certain thought. Mine hit close to heart because family is really important to me especially now that my brother went to college. 

Family, spending time with the ones we love.

Always there for me, always there to lend an ear and listen when I'm feeling blue, always there to match my mood, always there when I need a shoulder to cry on. Family is always there for me.

Family is so precious to me, especially now.  Now that one of the members is gone, and I only see him every so often. It's not the same anymore; one spot at the dinner table is now empty. Leaving me feel awkward that now I sit were he once did, but when I see him every month for a couple of days, I thought he would start to show some compassion now that he lives two hours from home. Though he doesn't show his love as much as I would like, it hides the pain. The pain of not seeing him and not sharing countless laughs with him. When we do hide the love it takes us away from reality on how we don't get to see him every day. The best part when he is home is having that warm feeling that everything is in place.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Dear Jordan,

The family will never be the same anymore. I will never be able to see you every day like I have in the past. You will never drive me to practice having the radio blasted piercing my ears. We will never have trench ball games one on one, on the trampoline ever again. I will never have the daily reminder on how you hate sharing germs. I will never have my Tuesday and Friday nights of watching you play basketball even though the coach was a complete moron, which is why he is the assistant coach now. I will never have the school nights of watching Glee with you, and everyone else. I will never hear you make your impressions of Jersey Shore. It will never be the same without one piece of the puzzle. It's different when you’re not around; I love you with all my heart. I miss you dearly, have fun and go crazy, but still work hard in college. See you soon!

Love your Little Sister,

Katie

Friday, November 2, 2012


Author's Note:
In this stream of consciousness I wanted to use some repetition in the writing to make the reader really listen to certain words.
Usually in stream of consciousness if you bring a lot of emotion into the writing sometimes it relates to yourself. In this piece I brought tons of emotion, but it doesn't relate to me in anyway that I know of. When I finished writing and I read it all over, I felt that my voice sounded like I was in the perspective of a slave saying all of the emotions he/she went through to be free.

Train


Take me away. Let me embark on a new journey. I wish to be free and turn over a new leaf. I want to let the past simply drift away.

I jump on with only luggage and looking ahead to a fresh, new start. How I wish of that. To dream new dreams, and to breathe new air. To be anyone I wish to be. My past is gone and I won’t go back, I will never look back upon it ever again. The misery I went through, the tormenting I had to suffer. All because of my background. They say bumps, cuts, and bruises hurt, but go away. While words live on forever. To me, everything counts. I have a memory, and I always will remember what you put me through.

So as I climb aboard this long journey to a new and happier place I will remember. It's hard to forget, but it's harder to stay with the suffering. I will be a new person. I will be someone you never let me be. I will be the person I want to be and nothing less.

Even though I went through so much with you. I thank a very small part. Thanks for making me stronger, making my skin a little bit thicker, and making me a little bit wiser. Thanks for making me strive every single day. The goal was set and matched, that I am no longer your slave. I am me.

Monday, October 1, 2012


Moon

Author's Note:

While I was trying to write this piece I couldn't concentrate. I felt as if I was in a writer's block. The easiest conclusion for this was for me to write a poem.  In this piece I didn't have a pattern, this is some repetition that could be the pattern though. I wanted to describe the feelings of nighttime through a little kid eye.


You give me light, when the day is at its most darkest,
Giving me a path at the darkest hour,
Shining me hope, even though there is little left.

Light is day, Dark is night,
Give me life, or give me death,
Day is light,
Dark is night,
But you shine through that
Dark,
Dark,
Night.

That is your job to bring me light,
For a short amount of time,
When I am scared the most,
You help me,
So when I look out the window,
In the middle of the night,
There is a dark sky,
But there is also a
Shining moon,
Looking over me during that
Dark,
 Dark,
 Night.