This one game that I played, there were three of us. One of was a some thirty year old guy that knew the owner of the property, the other guy was my friend, Mario. Well we all entered into the woods, it was our second time playing on the field, and the hill was always a focal point.
Well I sent Mario off to the left, I told him to wait until they started to fire on us and move in, or to fire when they got real close and we would come to back him. The thirty year old, was always trigger happy. I even told him to calm down a bit, even though I knew that it would not matter.
I actually expected him to fire early, so much so I made sure I had a vantage point on people passing to move up to him. Sure enough, the second they entered the field he started to fire. Two of the other team moved in to get a shot on him, returning fire the whole time.
The two passed me, and I noticed that neither of them were the four meant to come in after us. I made the decision to wait to make sure I had a shot. I was too happy to here that my teammate was shoot out. The two of them content with their victory stood up, I fired out four shots. Both ducked for cover, one right into a clearing in the underbrush, he got three to the back. I moved from my brush to the other side of the rock I was near and fired at the other as he popped out to fire at my old location.
As I started to scan the hill to see if anyone had taken notice, I saw a white spot. There poking out from under a rock twenty yards away was a shoe. After a bout of deliberation I decided that I should fire at the shoe. Three shots, one splattering paint from off the rock and the other hitting the middle of his foot. When a voice and a body were added to the shoe I was surprised, relieved, confused and empowered.
As I turned to look, I heard shots and ducked. They were both in poor cover, sparse trees only like a foot around. Weaving in and out of my rock cover on the high ground I made quick work of them. At that point I was so full of adrenaline I just wanted to be shot to prove it was still possible. I fired my gun into the air and yelled as I walked down the hill. Nothing, and then sounds of a fire fight, I started to walk toward and I saw a clear shot one another person, I made sure it was not my remaining teammate and lined up my sights. I wanted to make the shot count so I start to close the gap.
The second before I was going to pull the trigger I heard the triple fire of his gun. I knew it meant he was out of air and I felt cheated of my sixth out in one game.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
(W5) Into the woods.
The three of us entered into the woods, once out of ear shot we started to make a plan.
‘Ok, I am going to take a position on the hill. You go left, and you go right.’ Started walking with the man in his early thirties. ‘Ok, the last few games I noticed that you fire early. Wait until the get really close, these guns are not as accurate as real guns. When you fire across the field you just give away your position.’
I knew that the man on the right would fire early and draw them to him, so I scanned the right side of the hill. I found a small bunker made of underbrush and three spaced apart rocks, it concealed me while crouching and allowed a little movement on the top of the hill.
Then we heard the call for the start of the match. Less then a minute in the man on the right fire, two men on the other team took notice and started to advance on him. As they got close I noticed that neither of them was one of the three that were supposed to enter after us. Well it looks like everyone else showed up.
My shot at them was blocked and I did not want to give up my position early. Both of them started to fire at my partner. When he yelled ‘I’M OUT,’ the two of them stood up and I had a shot at them. I fired off four rounds and they ducked down. One ducked right into an open patch of the underbrush, his back arched forward as three paintballs broke against his sweat shirt. The other noticed my position and started to return fire while backing up to get a clear shot. As he hide behind a tree, I moved to the other side of one of my rocks, and as he leaned out from his cover I laid one into his chest.
I ducked down and started to scan the front of the hill, as I started to look back a white blur caught my eye. Is that a shoe, it is a shoe. Its not moving was it already out here, well I might as well shoot at it. I fired three shots. As the owner of the shoe yelled in pain, I thought if he had shot at me I would have been out for sure, he had a clear shot on my whole back.
While mulling over why he just sat there, two advancing men started to open fire. I moved in and out of the three rocks trying to fire from a different spot as much as I could. I got both of them, how many are out here. I could here a distant firefight. Well at least he probably waited till he had a clear shot.
To test my new found invincibility I stood up and started to walk down the hill with my pro carbine raised above my head firing rounds into the sky, no one fired at me. I got a sight on another guy and as I lined up my gun to fire, I heard a quick triple shot and an ‘I’m out, I’m out.’ His gun had run out of CO2 .
‘You sent out seven to get us?’
‘Yeah, everyone showed up and they were ready to go.’
We all stood around the two picnic tables covered with supplies, lively stories were thrown back and forth. After hear the people I shot tell
‘Ok, I am going to take a position on the hill. You go left, and you go right.’ Started walking with the man in his early thirties. ‘Ok, the last few games I noticed that you fire early. Wait until the get really close, these guns are not as accurate as real guns. When you fire across the field you just give away your position.’
I knew that the man on the right would fire early and draw them to him, so I scanned the right side of the hill. I found a small bunker made of underbrush and three spaced apart rocks, it concealed me while crouching and allowed a little movement on the top of the hill.
Then we heard the call for the start of the match. Less then a minute in the man on the right fire, two men on the other team took notice and started to advance on him. As they got close I noticed that neither of them was one of the three that were supposed to enter after us. Well it looks like everyone else showed up.
My shot at them was blocked and I did not want to give up my position early. Both of them started to fire at my partner. When he yelled ‘I’M OUT,’ the two of them stood up and I had a shot at them. I fired off four rounds and they ducked down. One ducked right into an open patch of the underbrush, his back arched forward as three paintballs broke against his sweat shirt. The other noticed my position and started to return fire while backing up to get a clear shot. As he hide behind a tree, I moved to the other side of one of my rocks, and as he leaned out from his cover I laid one into his chest.
I ducked down and started to scan the front of the hill, as I started to look back a white blur caught my eye. Is that a shoe, it is a shoe. Its not moving was it already out here, well I might as well shoot at it. I fired three shots. As the owner of the shoe yelled in pain, I thought if he had shot at me I would have been out for sure, he had a clear shot on my whole back.
While mulling over why he just sat there, two advancing men started to open fire. I moved in and out of the three rocks trying to fire from a different spot as much as I could. I got both of them, how many are out here. I could here a distant firefight. Well at least he probably waited till he had a clear shot.
To test my new found invincibility I stood up and started to walk down the hill with my pro carbine raised above my head firing rounds into the sky, no one fired at me. I got a sight on another guy and as I lined up my gun to fire, I heard a quick triple shot and an ‘I’m out, I’m out.’ His gun had run out of CO2 .
‘You sent out seven to get us?’
‘Yeah, everyone showed up and they were ready to go.’
We all stood around the two picnic tables covered with supplies, lively stories were thrown back and forth. After hear the people I shot tell
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Journal Entry #11: Uh, mmmh, Oh!
Two days ago while I was enthralled in my normal laptop session, a girl that I used to hangout with in high school came on. Currently she is in a relationship with some guy. Well, I was a little inebriated, so I was open with my thoughts.
Me: Well had you not been dating someone I would have asked you out on a date.
Her: And we probably would have gone a couple of dates, I do not know how serous it would have gotten because of our busy schedules.
Me: Well I guess I should have asked you out freshmen year.
Her: Seriously, I wanted you to ask me out freshmen year, but you never did.
Well lesson learned, I am a dumb ass. But since I read that I have felt different, I missed an opportunity because I failed to act, not because it did not exist. My whole mindset one certain things was just way off base.
Yesterday at work I was not compelled to discuss everything, I did not take anything personally. I did not feel anxious, I did not feel overwhelmed.
Just one more thing that proves the power of words. Those fourteen words placed the way they are made me feel human and alive. Those fourteen words have changed how I interact with people almost all together. Those fourteen words bathed me with warmth and light.
Here's to the next journey that comes my way,
-NK
Me: Well had you not been dating someone I would have asked you out on a date.
Her: And we probably would have gone a couple of dates, I do not know how serous it would have gotten because of our busy schedules.
Me: Well I guess I should have asked you out freshmen year.
Her: Seriously, I wanted you to ask me out freshmen year, but you never did.
Well lesson learned, I am a dumb ass. But since I read that I have felt different, I missed an opportunity because I failed to act, not because it did not exist. My whole mindset one certain things was just way off base.
Yesterday at work I was not compelled to discuss everything, I did not take anything personally. I did not feel anxious, I did not feel overwhelmed.
Just one more thing that proves the power of words. Those fourteen words placed the way they are made me feel human and alive. Those fourteen words have changed how I interact with people almost all together. Those fourteen words bathed me with warmth and light.
Here's to the next journey that comes my way,
-NK
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Re: (W5) K and I
It was the summer of 2005, I was 17. Two days after I got back from a leadership conference in Boston, Julia, one of my brother’s friends, came up to me and said. ‘I saw Katie and she wanted to say hi.’ I was a little confused as to what she meant so I said ‘Oh Hi’ and continued on.
A week later my brother was took Julia to ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,’ for her birthday and invited me alone. Sitting in the backseat of my brother’s new Ford Focus ZX3, I brought up what Julia had said. She told me that Katie had come over to visit, and there was a photo of me at one of my brothers parties. ‘You know him?’, ‘Yeah he is Marc’s brother.’
In February of 2003, a friend of mine was in the local Gilbert and Sullivan Society. After the last performance I helped to tear down the set, something about a cast party intrigued me. The people that I had seen performing, were trading inside jokes all around me. It was like ordering soda in Presque Isle, Maine if you were born and breed in Atlanta, Georgia; they were using a completely different form of the English Language. Well, Katie and Julia were both performers in said play. I had met and rather enjoyed the company of Katie.
I asked Julia if I could have Katie’s number. She texted Katie, then she read the response out loud ‘Does he really want my number or is he just being a smartass?’ I wanted to respond so Julia dialed the phone, as it rang my heart crawled its way up my throat.
When she answered I said ‘You know I don’t think anyone has called me smart before.’
‘Well I called you a Smartass’
‘I can over look the last part.’
The conversation took three minutes and Julia wanted her phone back and I got the right to call Katie back. For the next week we spent at least three hours a night on the phone. On the third day I asked her to be my girlfriend, ‘Maybe, I have to meet you first. You might be a bad kisser.’
She cam over the day before I started to run practices for cross country. We kissed, she decided that I was workable and we started dating. A few days after she came over my throat got really sore. There was enough mucus that, when I squeezed it, I could feel it pour out of my glands into my throat. ‘You might have mono, I had it last year.’
The April prior I had dislocated my shoulder, so I could not longer work as a laborer. In order to have money to take a bus to see her, I needed a steady job. I started work as a Deli Sale Associate.
The first time I went to see her my sister covered for me, she took me with her when she went to go visit one of our aunts. The day that I arrived in Portland, was the day that Katie’s cell phone bill arrived in Portland. One way or another she was over a thousand dollars off what she thought her plan allowed. I was excited to be there, she was mad at herself.
It did not take long for me to enjoy having her on the other side of the bed. There was only one time that I fought for space of the bed. She got up in the middle of the night, and the sleeping me sprawled out and was not willing to give the space back.
The long distance was a little hard, but suited me fine. I had a part time job, ran cross country, a puppy and had a full course load for my senior year. For my birthday my mother got me a phone for my room, the plan allowed for any calls in the state.
I started to get real tired very night, my legs would burn and tingle. Katie thought that she must having given me mono, so I went to my doctor to see if I had it. Te doctor looked at my throat and poked my splean, ‘You do not need to be tested for mono, the test is very expensive and it is unlikely that you have mono.’ The doctor said that I was just too busy and not sleeping enough, I agreed my plate was full. With a clean bill of health I continued to run cross country and school and work and walk the dog and take into the early morning with my girlfriend.
The cross country season ended in late October and I slept when I would have been running.
In December my girlfriend lived the winter vacation at my house, the day after Christmas she headed out to New York City with her friend to go see the Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. She came back to surprise me on New Years Eve.
I felt like I was on top of the world, even though I felt physically exhausted all the time. I took her to a Gilbert and Sullivan play, and at the cast dinner my doctor announced his retirement.
For a few weeks I was in a funk, I was depressed and tired. I decided to find a new primary care provider, my transcript of the last appointment to my old doctor did not make it to the new one. When I mentioned that I thought I had mono, the doctor also thought that it was unlikely that I had mono. My symptoms and family history pointed toward the early stages of a bipolar disorder. I was placed on a low dose of a bipolar med.
I got more tired, I would sleep through my classes and during any free time. My phone conversations got shorter, but we still talked everyday.
In March Katie sprained her ankle, she tore every tendon in her ankle. I started to fear the end of the relationship and it soon came. I got to Portland in mid April and she told me that she wanted a break and we were not a couple. I was pissed that I wasted forty dollars, to ride a bus for three hours, only to get dumped.
A month after the end of the relationship, I was sleeping all the time; anytime I did not have to be at work and during most of my classes. I went to the doctors and had the test for mono, it turned out that I had contracted mono from Katie.
-NFC
A week later my brother was took Julia to ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,’ for her birthday and invited me alone. Sitting in the backseat of my brother’s new Ford Focus ZX3, I brought up what Julia had said. She told me that Katie had come over to visit, and there was a photo of me at one of my brothers parties. ‘You know him?’, ‘Yeah he is Marc’s brother.’
In February of 2003, a friend of mine was in the local Gilbert and Sullivan Society. After the last performance I helped to tear down the set, something about a cast party intrigued me. The people that I had seen performing, were trading inside jokes all around me. It was like ordering soda in Presque Isle, Maine if you were born and breed in Atlanta, Georgia; they were using a completely different form of the English Language. Well, Katie and Julia were both performers in said play. I had met and rather enjoyed the company of Katie.
I asked Julia if I could have Katie’s number. She texted Katie, then she read the response out loud ‘Does he really want my number or is he just being a smartass?’ I wanted to respond so Julia dialed the phone, as it rang my heart crawled its way up my throat.
When she answered I said ‘You know I don’t think anyone has called me smart before.’
‘Well I called you a Smartass’
‘I can over look the last part.’
The conversation took three minutes and Julia wanted her phone back and I got the right to call Katie back. For the next week we spent at least three hours a night on the phone. On the third day I asked her to be my girlfriend, ‘Maybe, I have to meet you first. You might be a bad kisser.’
She cam over the day before I started to run practices for cross country. We kissed, she decided that I was workable and we started dating. A few days after she came over my throat got really sore. There was enough mucus that, when I squeezed it, I could feel it pour out of my glands into my throat. ‘You might have mono, I had it last year.’
The April prior I had dislocated my shoulder, so I could not longer work as a laborer. In order to have money to take a bus to see her, I needed a steady job. I started work as a Deli Sale Associate.
The first time I went to see her my sister covered for me, she took me with her when she went to go visit one of our aunts. The day that I arrived in Portland, was the day that Katie’s cell phone bill arrived in Portland. One way or another she was over a thousand dollars off what she thought her plan allowed. I was excited to be there, she was mad at herself.
It did not take long for me to enjoy having her on the other side of the bed. There was only one time that I fought for space of the bed. She got up in the middle of the night, and the sleeping me sprawled out and was not willing to give the space back.
The long distance was a little hard, but suited me fine. I had a part time job, ran cross country, a puppy and had a full course load for my senior year. For my birthday my mother got me a phone for my room, the plan allowed for any calls in the state.
I started to get real tired very night, my legs would burn and tingle. Katie thought that she must having given me mono, so I went to my doctor to see if I had it. Te doctor looked at my throat and poked my splean, ‘You do not need to be tested for mono, the test is very expensive and it is unlikely that you have mono.’ The doctor said that I was just too busy and not sleeping enough, I agreed my plate was full. With a clean bill of health I continued to run cross country and school and work and walk the dog and take into the early morning with my girlfriend.
The cross country season ended in late October and I slept when I would have been running.
In December my girlfriend lived the winter vacation at my house, the day after Christmas she headed out to New York City with her friend to go see the Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. She came back to surprise me on New Years Eve.
I felt like I was on top of the world, even though I felt physically exhausted all the time. I took her to a Gilbert and Sullivan play, and at the cast dinner my doctor announced his retirement.
For a few weeks I was in a funk, I was depressed and tired. I decided to find a new primary care provider, my transcript of the last appointment to my old doctor did not make it to the new one. When I mentioned that I thought I had mono, the doctor also thought that it was unlikely that I had mono. My symptoms and family history pointed toward the early stages of a bipolar disorder. I was placed on a low dose of a bipolar med.
I got more tired, I would sleep through my classes and during any free time. My phone conversations got shorter, but we still talked everyday.
In March Katie sprained her ankle, she tore every tendon in her ankle. I started to fear the end of the relationship and it soon came. I got to Portland in mid April and she told me that she wanted a break and we were not a couple. I was pissed that I wasted forty dollars, to ride a bus for three hours, only to get dumped.
A month after the end of the relationship, I was sleeping all the time; anytime I did not have to be at work and during most of my classes. I went to the doctors and had the test for mono, it turned out that I had contracted mono from Katie.
-NFC
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
(W5) K and I
It was the summer of 2005, I was 17. Two days after I got back from a leadership conference in Boston, Julia, one of my brother’s friends, came up to me and said. ‘I saw Katie and she wanted to say hi.’ I was a little confused as to what she meant so I said ‘Oh Hi’ and continued on.
A week later my brother was took Julia to ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,’ for her birthday and invited me alone. Sitting in the backseat of my brother’s new Ford Focus ZX3, I brought up what Julia had said. She told me that Katie had come over to visit, and there was a photo of me at one of my brothers parties. ‘You know him?’, ‘Yeah he is Marc’s brother.’
In February of 2003, a friend of mine was in the local Gilbert and Sullivan Society. After the last performance I helped to tear down the set, something about a cast party intrigued me. The people that I had seen performing, were trading inside jokes all around me. It was like ordering soda in Presque Isle, Maine if you were born and breed in Atlanta, Georgia; they were using a completely different form of the English Language. Well, Katie and Julia were both performers in said play. I had met and rather enjoyed the company of Katie.
I asked Julia if I could have Katie’s number. She texted Katie, then she read the response out loud ‘Does he really want my number or is he just being a smartass?’ I wanted to respond so Julia dialed the phone, as it rang my heart crawled its way up my throat.
When she answered I said ‘You know I don’t think anyone has called me smart before.’
‘Well I called you a Smartass’
‘I can over look the last part.’
The conversation took three minutes and Julia wanted her phone back and I got the right to call Katie back. For the next week we spent at least three hours a night on the phone. After that she came to visit and we were officially a couple.
She lived in Portland, so there was a three hour bus ride in between us. The first time I went to see her my sister covered for me, she took me with her when she went to go visit one of our aunts. The day that I arrived in Portland, was the day that Katie’s cell phone bill arrived in Portland. One way or another she was over a thousand dollars off what she thought her plan allowed. I was excited to be there, she was mad at herself.
It did not take long for me to enjoy having her on the other side of the bed. There was only one time that I fought for space of the bed. She got up in the middle of the night, and the sleeping me sprawled out and was not willing to give the space back.
The long distance was a little hard, but suited me fine. I had a part time job, ran cross country, a puppy and had a full course load for my senior year. For my birthday my mother got me a phone for my room, the plan allowed for any calls in the state.
I started to get real tired very night, my legs would burn and tingle. I went to my doctor to see if I had mono, the doctor said it was very unlikely, and that I just was doing a lot. I agreed my plate was full and I continued to run cross country and school and work and walk the dog and take into the early morning with my girlfriend.
The cross country season ended in late October and I slept when I would have been running.
In December my girlfriend lived the winter vacation at my house, the day after Christmas she headed out to New York City with her friend to go see the Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. She came back to surprise me on New Years Eve.
I felt like I was on top of the world, even though I felt physically exhausted all the time. I took her to a Gilbert and Sullivan play, and at the cast dinner my doctor announced his retirement.
For a few weeks I was in a funk, I was depressed and tired. I decided to find a new primary care provider, my transcript of the last appointment to my old doctor did not make it to the new one. When I mentioned that I thought I had mono, the doctor also thought that it was unlikely that I had mono. My symptoms and family history pointed toward the early stages of a bipolar disorder. I was placed on a low dose of a bipolar med.
I got more tired, I would sleep through my classes and during any free time. My phone conversations got shorter, but we still talked everyday.
In March Katie sprained her ankle, she tore every tendon in her ankle. I started to fear the end of the relationship and it soon came. I got to Portland in mid April and she told me that she wanted a break and we were not a couple. I was pissed that I wasted forty dollars, to ride a bus for three hours, only to get dumped.
A month after the end of the relationship, I was sleeping all the time; anytime I did not have to be at work and during most of my classes. I went to the doctors and had the test for mono, it turned out that I did have mono for all of my cross country season.
-NFC
A week later my brother was took Julia to ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,’ for her birthday and invited me alone. Sitting in the backseat of my brother’s new Ford Focus ZX3, I brought up what Julia had said. She told me that Katie had come over to visit, and there was a photo of me at one of my brothers parties. ‘You know him?’, ‘Yeah he is Marc’s brother.’
In February of 2003, a friend of mine was in the local Gilbert and Sullivan Society. After the last performance I helped to tear down the set, something about a cast party intrigued me. The people that I had seen performing, were trading inside jokes all around me. It was like ordering soda in Presque Isle, Maine if you were born and breed in Atlanta, Georgia; they were using a completely different form of the English Language. Well, Katie and Julia were both performers in said play. I had met and rather enjoyed the company of Katie.
I asked Julia if I could have Katie’s number. She texted Katie, then she read the response out loud ‘Does he really want my number or is he just being a smartass?’ I wanted to respond so Julia dialed the phone, as it rang my heart crawled its way up my throat.
When she answered I said ‘You know I don’t think anyone has called me smart before.’
‘Well I called you a Smartass’
‘I can over look the last part.’
The conversation took three minutes and Julia wanted her phone back and I got the right to call Katie back. For the next week we spent at least three hours a night on the phone. After that she came to visit and we were officially a couple.
She lived in Portland, so there was a three hour bus ride in between us. The first time I went to see her my sister covered for me, she took me with her when she went to go visit one of our aunts. The day that I arrived in Portland, was the day that Katie’s cell phone bill arrived in Portland. One way or another she was over a thousand dollars off what she thought her plan allowed. I was excited to be there, she was mad at herself.
It did not take long for me to enjoy having her on the other side of the bed. There was only one time that I fought for space of the bed. She got up in the middle of the night, and the sleeping me sprawled out and was not willing to give the space back.
The long distance was a little hard, but suited me fine. I had a part time job, ran cross country, a puppy and had a full course load for my senior year. For my birthday my mother got me a phone for my room, the plan allowed for any calls in the state.
I started to get real tired very night, my legs would burn and tingle. I went to my doctor to see if I had mono, the doctor said it was very unlikely, and that I just was doing a lot. I agreed my plate was full and I continued to run cross country and school and work and walk the dog and take into the early morning with my girlfriend.
The cross country season ended in late October and I slept when I would have been running.
In December my girlfriend lived the winter vacation at my house, the day after Christmas she headed out to New York City with her friend to go see the Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. She came back to surprise me on New Years Eve.
I felt like I was on top of the world, even though I felt physically exhausted all the time. I took her to a Gilbert and Sullivan play, and at the cast dinner my doctor announced his retirement.
For a few weeks I was in a funk, I was depressed and tired. I decided to find a new primary care provider, my transcript of the last appointment to my old doctor did not make it to the new one. When I mentioned that I thought I had mono, the doctor also thought that it was unlikely that I had mono. My symptoms and family history pointed toward the early stages of a bipolar disorder. I was placed on a low dose of a bipolar med.
I got more tired, I would sleep through my classes and during any free time. My phone conversations got shorter, but we still talked everyday.
In March Katie sprained her ankle, she tore every tendon in her ankle. I started to fear the end of the relationship and it soon came. I got to Portland in mid April and she told me that she wanted a break and we were not a couple. I was pissed that I wasted forty dollars, to ride a bus for three hours, only to get dumped.
A month after the end of the relationship, I was sleeping all the time; anytime I did not have to be at work and during most of my classes. I went to the doctors and had the test for mono, it turned out that I did have mono for all of my cross country season.
-NFC
Saturday, September 20, 2008
(PP) Am I Philosopher?
My favorite teacher in High School told me that I was a Socratic Learner. It was at first a common place compliment to me. I was a definable different, there were others like me just not everywhere. In my Honors 101: Wisdom stories form Antiquity, we studied the works of Socrates and I agreed I was very similar in my quest for knowledge and I learned more by a response to a hypothetical situation then lines from a textbook. I recently started to read the book, 'Philosophy: 100 Essential Thinkers.'
I do not really think that I am revolutionary, but I think I have a different way of looking at things. I would be lying if I said I did not think that other people could learn and grow from what I have to say.
One thing that I like to bring up from time to time is Visual Color and the Interpretation of it. Colors are taken in as set wavelengths, green is always green. Then when you take in the wavelength you use cones and rods to send a message to your occipital lobe, this makes a set path way in your mind, every time you see that wavelength you see green. Well if you are born with slightly different cones and rods then someone else, the wavelength is seen differently, but is still always seen the same, still called green. Everyone could be looking at the same wavelength and interpret it differently. If it is a different interpretation then it could be how someone else interprets a different wavelength for a different color. If my favorite color is green and yours is blue, an argument based on which is better might actually be both of use saying that the same interpretation as the better of all others. We may be agreeing on all accounts but we are still arguing.
Arguments are based on what we know to be fact and what we favor based on who we are. So to hate someone based on their Argument, is the same as hating yourself.
I believe in God, it is just what I have been brought up to believe. I believe in Jesus and I believe he sacrificed himself for his sins, again how I was raised. I believe that God is the final judge after this world, so who am I to say weather or not a person will go to heaven or hell for one thing or another, that would be placing myself before God. So, I believe everyone will be judged by God and he will decide. The Islamic Jehadist that blew himself up for his religion may go to heaven, I know it to be a sin to kill myself and others, but the Jehadist was not taught that, the Jehadist was taught to kill himself for God. (I do think that someone there may be held responsible.)
To treat a Muslim as any less then a person of God is against my Christan Beliefs. If any man, woman or child asks me of my beliefs or tries to tell me of theirs, I share mine. Sure mine flux from time to time, but they only change based on what I know to be true and I will respect any persons beliefs and I will state if I think they may be misled.
-NK
I do not really think that I am revolutionary, but I think I have a different way of looking at things. I would be lying if I said I did not think that other people could learn and grow from what I have to say.
One thing that I like to bring up from time to time is Visual Color and the Interpretation of it. Colors are taken in as set wavelengths, green is always green. Then when you take in the wavelength you use cones and rods to send a message to your occipital lobe, this makes a set path way in your mind, every time you see that wavelength you see green. Well if you are born with slightly different cones and rods then someone else, the wavelength is seen differently, but is still always seen the same, still called green. Everyone could be looking at the same wavelength and interpret it differently. If it is a different interpretation then it could be how someone else interprets a different wavelength for a different color. If my favorite color is green and yours is blue, an argument based on which is better might actually be both of use saying that the same interpretation as the better of all others. We may be agreeing on all accounts but we are still arguing.
Arguments are based on what we know to be fact and what we favor based on who we are. So to hate someone based on their Argument, is the same as hating yourself.
I believe in God, it is just what I have been brought up to believe. I believe in Jesus and I believe he sacrificed himself for his sins, again how I was raised. I believe that God is the final judge after this world, so who am I to say weather or not a person will go to heaven or hell for one thing or another, that would be placing myself before God. So, I believe everyone will be judged by God and he will decide. The Islamic Jehadist that blew himself up for his religion may go to heaven, I know it to be a sin to kill myself and others, but the Jehadist was not taught that, the Jehadist was taught to kill himself for God. (I do think that someone there may be held responsible.)
To treat a Muslim as any less then a person of God is against my Christan Beliefs. If any man, woman or child asks me of my beliefs or tries to tell me of theirs, I share mine. Sure mine flux from time to time, but they only change based on what I know to be true and I will respect any persons beliefs and I will state if I think they may be misled.
-NK
Thursday, September 18, 2008
(PP) Learning to Study
As I high school student, I found myself learning how to take the path of least resistance. My study habits consisted of reading some notes and mumbling lists while in the shower, on the day before the test.
Now I am faced with trying to start from scratch, only now I am at a college level and need to achieve better then my high school best. Teachers seem to have the same response, two hours for every class hour and note cards for terms that you need to memorize.
The only time I used flash cards effectively was in the seventh grade, my mind simply does not do well with bulk memorization. Ever since, when I resort to flash cards I mix terms more. A front of one card and the back of another are to easy to mix. I need to methodically learn one piece of information then the next.
As far as two hours of every hour, I am hard pressed to sit with the same material that long. I am working towards trying to push myself to a set schedule, but fluxing work hours and a social life make it hard to set a schedule. If I study too much I am too stressed to work, if I cannot go to work, I can not afford to pay for books, if I do not buy my books, I cannot do the work, if the work does not get done, I fail the course. The same applies to not relaxing with friends. Priorities and balance shift rather quickly.
A practice that I picked up at USM was useful for me. I had a history course, the reading got dry at times, to keep myself on the subject, I bought a book on the same time period. The book gave me another way to look at the material and it kept me on topic. If I took the time that I spent on reading a book that was relaxing and added it to regular study, I met the two hours to every hour plan.
I am slowing figuring my way around making the lists work. I have found that if I find a way to apply the information to another part of the material, I am more likely to retain both pieces of information.
So long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other, always looking for new solutions and assessing old choices, I should make it through with the grades I need.
-NK
Now I am faced with trying to start from scratch, only now I am at a college level and need to achieve better then my high school best. Teachers seem to have the same response, two hours for every class hour and note cards for terms that you need to memorize.
The only time I used flash cards effectively was in the seventh grade, my mind simply does not do well with bulk memorization. Ever since, when I resort to flash cards I mix terms more. A front of one card and the back of another are to easy to mix. I need to methodically learn one piece of information then the next.
As far as two hours of every hour, I am hard pressed to sit with the same material that long. I am working towards trying to push myself to a set schedule, but fluxing work hours and a social life make it hard to set a schedule. If I study too much I am too stressed to work, if I cannot go to work, I can not afford to pay for books, if I do not buy my books, I cannot do the work, if the work does not get done, I fail the course. The same applies to not relaxing with friends. Priorities and balance shift rather quickly.
A practice that I picked up at USM was useful for me. I had a history course, the reading got dry at times, to keep myself on the subject, I bought a book on the same time period. The book gave me another way to look at the material and it kept me on topic. If I took the time that I spent on reading a book that was relaxing and added it to regular study, I met the two hours to every hour plan.
I am slowing figuring my way around making the lists work. I have found that if I find a way to apply the information to another part of the material, I am more likely to retain both pieces of information.
So long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other, always looking for new solutions and assessing old choices, I should make it through with the grades I need.
-NK
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
(W4) Simon Part Three
Many people have stopped to play a pool at the old pool table in my dorm. The felt was marked with inexperienced players attempt to show off to on lookers. The pool sticks where quickly used up, pieces would disappear and reappear, half the game was finding a pool stick that was complete.
Simon, an African American man in his thirties, had found a way to circumvent the unreliable equipment. He brought his own pool stick with him every time he wanted to play. This made him a very valued person to shoot pool with. He traded flavored jokes with a variety of people that played pool with him. I was one of the more frequent players at the table, I was there twice a week at about the same time. After a few games he decided I was worthy enough to learn how to play one pocket. I could tell he thought highly of me because he would answer my questions on the rules, no matter how many times I asked the same question.
Every now and then I would spot him in the dinning hall and sit down with him. He was accustomed to praying at each meal, you could tell when he had a lot on his mind because he would drop his fork after a few bites, sit in silence and then say 'ok' and start eating again.
One day I wanted to play one pocket, so I went to see what Simon was doing. His window was visible from the sky walk to his section of the building, I always knew weather or not he was in. I knocked at the door and heard him shuffling around.
'Oh, hey Nick.'
'Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to play some one pocket?'
'That would be fun, but I can't I have to get packed.'
'Where you going?'
'Oh, I am heading home for a day to take care of some stuff at home.'
'Well, maybe we can play when you get back?'
'Oh, I don't know I have to study for a few midterms and I am trying to set up a date with this girl I have been talking to. Hey, you could come with me, it is a forty minute drive and I could us the company.'
'Sure, should I bring movies or something? I just got the DaVinici Code.'
'Yeah if you want, I have been meaning to watch that, is it any good?'
'I enjoyed it. Well I will go get ready.'
The drive was fun, we listened to a few of my cd's. He talked on the phone to the women he was trying to set up a date with. When we got on the road his house was on, he said 'Do not bring up the fact that I smoke and do not talk about the women I am trying to see. Mary does not want me to date because I she wants my mind on school and both her and Denis think that I have stopped smoking. I only have a cigarette every now and then and I never buy a full pack.
Denis and Mary, were a white couple in their fifties. Both of them seemed pretty well off, the house was relatively clean. There were a few unique collectibles that had their own spot on shelves. The couch and love seat were worn to the point where they were just right. The point where the fabric loses its structure but does not have holes in it.
Every question phrased by Mary was one that directly attacked and supported Simon. My favorite was 'Well try not to get too stressed, the last thing you need is to pick up smoking again.' It was said in the tone that only mothers can give; the I love you and I know you are doing something I disapprove of tone.
There were two small black dogs, one I found out was blind. The little blind dog seemed to have a much deeper appreciation for attention. Something about how the dog leaned into my hand made me think that it meant more.
After Mary and Denis went to bed, Simon and I discussed what I thought of them and the house. I thought they were very nice and I thought they keep a good house. A bit into the conversation Simon looked at me and said 'You know people have asked her if she was sleeping with me.' His tone hit me hard and I knew why. He viewed Denis and Mary as parents, for someone to second guess their intentions was cruel. He knew, and I knew, that if he was a white man no one would find it worthy to question.
The breakfast in the upstairs kitchen confirmed that Simon saw them as parents. We all sat down to a small meal, we prayed before we ate and they discussed small family things; like where Denis was going to store the law mower for the winter.
I saw them as a functional nuclear family. Mother, father and son working together to keep the family going.
-NK
Simon, an African American man in his thirties, had found a way to circumvent the unreliable equipment. He brought his own pool stick with him every time he wanted to play. This made him a very valued person to shoot pool with. He traded flavored jokes with a variety of people that played pool with him. I was one of the more frequent players at the table, I was there twice a week at about the same time. After a few games he decided I was worthy enough to learn how to play one pocket. I could tell he thought highly of me because he would answer my questions on the rules, no matter how many times I asked the same question.
Every now and then I would spot him in the dinning hall and sit down with him. He was accustomed to praying at each meal, you could tell when he had a lot on his mind because he would drop his fork after a few bites, sit in silence and then say 'ok' and start eating again.
One day I wanted to play one pocket, so I went to see what Simon was doing. His window was visible from the sky walk to his section of the building, I always knew weather or not he was in. I knocked at the door and heard him shuffling around.
'Oh, hey Nick.'
'Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to play some one pocket?'
'That would be fun, but I can't I have to get packed.'
'Where you going?'
'Oh, I am heading home for a day to take care of some stuff at home.'
'Well, maybe we can play when you get back?'
'Oh, I don't know I have to study for a few midterms and I am trying to set up a date with this girl I have been talking to. Hey, you could come with me, it is a forty minute drive and I could us the company.'
'Sure, should I bring movies or something? I just got the DaVinici Code.'
'Yeah if you want, I have been meaning to watch that, is it any good?'
'I enjoyed it. Well I will go get ready.'
The drive was fun, we listened to a few of my cd's. He talked on the phone to the women he was trying to set up a date with. When we got on the road his house was on, he said 'Do not bring up the fact that I smoke and do not talk about the women I am trying to see. Mary does not want me to date because I she wants my mind on school and both her and Denis think that I have stopped smoking. I only have a cigarette every now and then and I never buy a full pack.
Denis and Mary, were a white couple in their fifties. Both of them seemed pretty well off, the house was relatively clean. There were a few unique collectibles that had their own spot on shelves. The couch and love seat were worn to the point where they were just right. The point where the fabric loses its structure but does not have holes in it.
Every question phrased by Mary was one that directly attacked and supported Simon. My favorite was 'Well try not to get too stressed, the last thing you need is to pick up smoking again.' It was said in the tone that only mothers can give; the I love you and I know you are doing something I disapprove of tone.
There were two small black dogs, one I found out was blind. The little blind dog seemed to have a much deeper appreciation for attention. Something about how the dog leaned into my hand made me think that it meant more.
After Mary and Denis went to bed, Simon and I discussed what I thought of them and the house. I thought they were very nice and I thought they keep a good house. A bit into the conversation Simon looked at me and said 'You know people have asked her if she was sleeping with me.' His tone hit me hard and I knew why. He viewed Denis and Mary as parents, for someone to second guess their intentions was cruel. He knew, and I knew, that if he was a white man no one would find it worthy to question.
The breakfast in the upstairs kitchen confirmed that Simon saw them as parents. We all sat down to a small meal, we prayed before we ate and they discussed small family things; like where Denis was going to store the law mower for the winter.
I saw them as a functional nuclear family. Mother, father and son working together to keep the family going.
-NK
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
(W4) Simon Part Two
The dorm had an common pool table; I use to beckon to the call of the battered felt, anytime I needed to get out of my room. Through my frequent visits to the table, I made friends with another pool player, named Simon.
Simon was an African American man in his early thirties. While he played pool he had a explicit vocabulary. When he sat to eat, he would stop and pray.
On day the pool table was calling me, I had a few days off and I wanted to relax. I walked to the other side of the building and knocked on the door.
'Oh hey, Nick. What's up.'
'Not much, I was wondering if you wanted to go play pool.'
'Um, I do but I can't. You wanna come in.'
'Sure.'
'Yeah, I have to get ready to go, I am driving home for the day.'
'Sounds like fun, when are you getting back?'
'Tomorrow, do you have any plans?'
'No, I was going to play pool with you and then maybe get some food.'
'You wanna come?'
After a few minutes of thinking it out I decided that I could go.
It was a forty minute drive. As we got close to the house he said, 'Don't bring up that I smoke, they think I quit. And I only have one now and then. I never even buy a full pack.'
'What if they bring it up?'
'They shouldn't, just don't bring it up.'
'Ok, got it.'
Mary and Denis were a white, couple in their fifties. They were kind and supportive; Mary was very motherly toward Simon. She asked him how his classes were going, asked him if he was seeing anyone, told him to not let the stress get to him. 'The last thing you need is to start smoking again.'
There two little black dogs came down and I took time to pet them. later in the day, as we were watching the DaVinci Code, I saw one of the dogs walk into the couch. When I asked about it, they said that the dog was blind. The next time the dog came over to me I saw it, the dogs eye lids were sewn shut. The dog was no different from it's sibling, it just walked into things every now and then.
After Mary and Denis had go to bed, Simon asked me what I thought of them. After I said I thought they were very nice. After discussing for a bit he said with a solemn tone 'You know people ask me if Mary and I are involved.' I had not really even thought much of how he came to be in this house. I knew that he had traveled from another state and lived here. I saw this family like any other, in some places they where a stronger family.
In the morning we went up stairs to the kitchen, the oddest part about the upstairs kitchen was that there was a downstairs kitchen. The upstairs kitchen was Denis' Kitchen, it was were breakfast was made. We sat at the table, held hands and prayed for the meal.
After breakfast Simon showed me the shack that he had built on the top of the mountain we were on. It was framed in various types of wood, the floor wisted as the wind passed through it. The door was tided shut on either side with a piece of rope. The walls were different pieces of metal, plastic or the occasional ply board.
The view was hillsides with trees and places where the granite cut the surface. It would be a great place to just sit and listen to the wind rush by. I now knew way Simon spoke of home the way that he did and I was glad to have been invited to it.
-NK
Simon was an African American man in his early thirties. While he played pool he had a explicit vocabulary. When he sat to eat, he would stop and pray.
On day the pool table was calling me, I had a few days off and I wanted to relax. I walked to the other side of the building and knocked on the door.
'Oh hey, Nick. What's up.'
'Not much, I was wondering if you wanted to go play pool.'
'Um, I do but I can't. You wanna come in.'
'Sure.'
'Yeah, I have to get ready to go, I am driving home for the day.'
'Sounds like fun, when are you getting back?'
'Tomorrow, do you have any plans?'
'No, I was going to play pool with you and then maybe get some food.'
'You wanna come?'
After a few minutes of thinking it out I decided that I could go.
It was a forty minute drive. As we got close to the house he said, 'Don't bring up that I smoke, they think I quit. And I only have one now and then. I never even buy a full pack.'
'What if they bring it up?'
'They shouldn't, just don't bring it up.'
'Ok, got it.'
Mary and Denis were a white, couple in their fifties. They were kind and supportive; Mary was very motherly toward Simon. She asked him how his classes were going, asked him if he was seeing anyone, told him to not let the stress get to him. 'The last thing you need is to start smoking again.'
There two little black dogs came down and I took time to pet them. later in the day, as we were watching the DaVinci Code, I saw one of the dogs walk into the couch. When I asked about it, they said that the dog was blind. The next time the dog came over to me I saw it, the dogs eye lids were sewn shut. The dog was no different from it's sibling, it just walked into things every now and then.
After Mary and Denis had go to bed, Simon asked me what I thought of them. After I said I thought they were very nice. After discussing for a bit he said with a solemn tone 'You know people ask me if Mary and I are involved.' I had not really even thought much of how he came to be in this house. I knew that he had traveled from another state and lived here. I saw this family like any other, in some places they where a stronger family.
In the morning we went up stairs to the kitchen, the oddest part about the upstairs kitchen was that there was a downstairs kitchen. The upstairs kitchen was Denis' Kitchen, it was were breakfast was made. We sat at the table, held hands and prayed for the meal.
After breakfast Simon showed me the shack that he had built on the top of the mountain we were on. It was framed in various types of wood, the floor wisted as the wind passed through it. The door was tided shut on either side with a piece of rope. The walls were different pieces of metal, plastic or the occasional ply board.
The view was hillsides with trees and places where the granite cut the surface. It would be a great place to just sit and listen to the wind rush by. I now knew way Simon spoke of home the way that he did and I was glad to have been invited to it.
-NK
Journal Entry #10: When the Saints
As I walked in to school this morning, I looked at the statue on a lawn. I recognized it as a statue of Saint Joseph holding the baby Jesus. One thought lead to another and started to think of what name I would choose for myself if I was elected Pope.
Upon recognizing my choice of Saints I realized that I would be hard pressed to be pope; a person who supports travel, animals and children may be hard pressed to find themselves as head of the Roman Catholic Church.
The thought continued to brew in my mind. As I was walking and thinking of being named after Saint Francis of Assisi, I heard a woof and the pant of an approaching dog. I looked and a Saint Barnard pup was running across the road toward me.
The rather large puppy had floppy ears and a bandanna; he had assuredly gotten free from his owner. I whistled and the dog started to jump circles around me. The owner caught up and said he was sorry and that the it was a puppy. I stayed and waited until the owner could stop the dog, I enjoyed watching the pup's excitement to be unleashed.
While crossing the road I marveled at how interesting it was that the dog ran across the street as I was thinking about the Patron Saint of Animals.
As I was walking by the playground, I started to think of the name of the patron saint of children and at that moment on of the kids on a bench yelled out 'Nick!' I looked and it was the girl that I babysat for twice; she was a playmate of the boys I agreed to watch for a couple from Pennsylvania.
While seaching for the names online I realized that all three of my Saint choices were confirmed: Saint Francis of Assisi when the dog ran across the road, Saint Nicholas when the girl called to me and Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travel, was their throughout the entire walk.
So, Pope Nicholas Francis Christopher.
-NK
Upon recognizing my choice of Saints I realized that I would be hard pressed to be pope; a person who supports travel, animals and children may be hard pressed to find themselves as head of the Roman Catholic Church.
The thought continued to brew in my mind. As I was walking and thinking of being named after Saint Francis of Assisi, I heard a woof and the pant of an approaching dog. I looked and a Saint Barnard pup was running across the road toward me.
The rather large puppy had floppy ears and a bandanna; he had assuredly gotten free from his owner. I whistled and the dog started to jump circles around me. The owner caught up and said he was sorry and that the it was a puppy. I stayed and waited until the owner could stop the dog, I enjoyed watching the pup's excitement to be unleashed.
While crossing the road I marveled at how interesting it was that the dog ran across the street as I was thinking about the Patron Saint of Animals.
As I was walking by the playground, I started to think of the name of the patron saint of children and at that moment on of the kids on a bench yelled out 'Nick!' I looked and it was the girl that I babysat for twice; she was a playmate of the boys I agreed to watch for a couple from Pennsylvania.
While seaching for the names online I realized that all three of my Saint choices were confirmed: Saint Francis of Assisi when the dog ran across the road, Saint Nicholas when the girl called to me and Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travel, was their throughout the entire walk.
So, Pope Nicholas Francis Christopher.
-NK
Monday, September 15, 2008
(W4) Simon Part One.
The Dorm that I went to had pool table and in my free time I enjoyed playing a game or two of pool. One of the friends I made at the pool table was Simon, an African American in his thirties. He had a crude sense of humor but otherwise very down to Earth. Before every meal he would sit in silence and pray. One day he asked if I had any plans for the rest of weekend, I was free. He said he was going to visit family members forty minutes out and wanted company for the ride.
I agreed to go, he was always talking but the couple that he wanted to go see. His family members were a white man and women in their late fifties and from what I saw they were a very solid family. The house was nice, it had two kitchens and small collectibles. The living room had a long couch and a love seat, a long bench along one wall that had two computers, a coffee table and a t.v. The couple had two small black dogs with saggy ears, one had no eyes do to a surgery.
We watched the Da Vinci code, in the morning we had a hot meal, we held hands and prayed, Simon showed me a shack that he put on top of the hill in their back yard. Framed and floored with wood and sided with a mix of wood, plastic and metal panels.
I agreed to go, he was always talking but the couple that he wanted to go see. His family members were a white man and women in their late fifties and from what I saw they were a very solid family. The house was nice, it had two kitchens and small collectibles. The living room had a long couch and a love seat, a long bench along one wall that had two computers, a coffee table and a t.v. The couple had two small black dogs with saggy ears, one had no eyes do to a surgery.
We watched the Da Vinci code, in the morning we had a hot meal, we held hands and prayed, Simon showed me a shack that he put on top of the hill in their back yard. Framed and floored with wood and sided with a mix of wood, plastic and metal panels.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
(W3) Back to School
Water poured from my hair as I entered the double doors. A boy and a girl were running in circles around the glassed in Eagle statue. Entered the office and waited for them to address me.
'May I help you,'
'I have a class in 45 minutes, can I just wait here.'
'Yeah, you can go sit out on one of the benches.'
I walked by the offices windows that overlook the main hall, on my way to the bench by the door. I saw my old guidance councilor in the main room of her office.
'Hey.'
'Oh, hi Nick,'
'I have a class here at four.'
'Oh yeah, which one is that.'
'Anatomy and Physiology in 220.'
'How many classes are you taking this semester?'
'Four.'
'Oh, that's good'
'Yeah, I am going to go wait for class, see you later.'
'Bye.'
As I was reading my book, the two children ran to the bench across from mine. The young girl yelled. "I'm on base, I am on base.' The boy just started to run in the other direction. The ran off after him.
'The picture person told me to lean forward.'
'Did you have the man or the women?'
'The Women'
'THE WOMEN.' and a few others echoed 'the WOMEN.'
'Yeah she had me lean forward on my leg and then she was like 'tilt your head to the side' and I was trying to tilt without...'
The intercom's beep pierced through the conversation. The muffled voice talked to fast to understand.
My Professor waved, as she went by. I looked up 'Nick, right?'
'Yeah'
Then I saw my old math teacher.
Called out his name.
'Oh hey Nick, what are you doing here?'
'I have class at four,'
'Oh, yeah whats that through?'
'EMCC'
'Good, good. Did you get that scholarship?'
'Yeah, I only had to pay six hundred for books.'
'Wow that's great, you still working.'
'Yep, in the deli'
'Good, so you have the money.Where are you staying?'
'My mothers house.'
'Even Better.'
I started to open my book and one of the ed techs said,
'Well hey there stranger, what brings you here?'
'College, I have a class at four.'
'That's good for you. What College?, You were at Southern Maine'
'Yeah, she can tell you, she taught me at EMCC last year.'
'Oh, you teach there?'
'Yeah one class a semester. How are you doing Nick?'
'Well I have to run,' the ed tech left'
'I got that piece you e-mailed me, I enjoyed it.'
'Oh good you got it, I am just trying to think what it was.'
'Yeah, I don't really remember but I enjoyed. I just have been so busy.'
'Yeah it's fine. I actually have an online course. It is all done in a blog. I am not sure how it works with blogspot but I think this is the right url. You should be able to look at it. It is held by Jon Goldfine. Do you know him?'
'Yeah I know him.'
'Well if you look that up and click on one of the comments of his you can look at the 162 course. I did was not logged in the first time I looked at it.'
'Well I am going to go to class, I saw the teacher walk by earlier.'
'Yeah, I'll look into this. I see you later.'
'Yeah.'
Thought to myself as I climbed the stairs, 'It feels odd being back in my old high school. Things are much more formal.'
-NK
'May I help you,'
'I have a class in 45 minutes, can I just wait here.'
'Yeah, you can go sit out on one of the benches.'
I walked by the offices windows that overlook the main hall, on my way to the bench by the door. I saw my old guidance councilor in the main room of her office.
'Hey.'
'Oh, hi Nick,'
'I have a class here at four.'
'Oh yeah, which one is that.'
'Anatomy and Physiology in 220.'
'How many classes are you taking this semester?'
'Four.'
'Oh, that's good'
'Yeah, I am going to go wait for class, see you later.'
'Bye.'
As I was reading my book, the two children ran to the bench across from mine. The young girl yelled. "I'm on base, I am on base.' The boy just started to run in the other direction. The ran off after him.
'The picture person told me to lean forward.'
'Did you have the man or the women?'
'The Women'
'THE WOMEN.' and a few others echoed 'the WOMEN.'
'Yeah she had me lean forward on my leg and then she was like 'tilt your head to the side' and I was trying to tilt without...'
The intercom's beep pierced through the conversation. The muffled voice talked to fast to understand.
My Professor waved, as she went by. I looked up 'Nick, right?'
'Yeah'
Then I saw my old math teacher.
Called out his name.
'Oh hey Nick, what are you doing here?'
'I have class at four,'
'Oh, yeah whats that through?'
'EMCC'
'Good, good. Did you get that scholarship?'
'Yeah, I only had to pay six hundred for books.'
'Wow that's great, you still working.'
'Yep, in the deli'
'Good, so you have the money.Where are you staying?'
'My mothers house.'
'Even Better.'
I started to open my book and one of the ed techs said,
'Well hey there stranger, what brings you here?'
'College, I have a class at four.'
'That's good for you. What College?, You were at Southern Maine'
'Yeah, she can tell you, she taught me at EMCC last year.'
'Oh, you teach there?'
'Yeah one class a semester. How are you doing Nick?'
'Well I have to run,' the ed tech left'
'I got that piece you e-mailed me, I enjoyed it.'
'Oh good you got it, I am just trying to think what it was.'
'Yeah, I don't really remember but I enjoyed. I just have been so busy.'
'Yeah it's fine. I actually have an online course. It is all done in a blog. I am not sure how it works with blogspot but I think this is the right url. You should be able to look at it. It is held by Jon Goldfine. Do you know him?'
'Yeah I know him.'
'Well if you look that up and click on one of the comments of his you can look at the 162 course. I did was not logged in the first time I looked at it.'
'Well I am going to go to class, I saw the teacher walk by earlier.'
'Yeah, I'll look into this. I see you later.'
'Yeah.'
Thought to myself as I climbed the stairs, 'It feels odd being back in my old high school. Things are much more formal.'
-NK
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
(W2) History and Me
In 1999, Columbine took every news station. It took over discussion times in class, it took over family talks. I started to pay more attention to people in the halls, I started talking to anyone that claimed they were angry with the world.
December 2000, my nephew died of cancer. I learned that life can reach out to others, he was three years old and the church was packed for his funeral.
September 11, 2001 was on every channel. Everyone went on and on about how terrible it was. I started to worry about the state of the world.
December 2001, my sister died of a blood clot. I saw that people can make a difference to one person in seven months. My sister had taught one year a school, walking out of the funeral I saw a boy from her class fall to his knees and retch in tears.
October 31, 2003 while at a school rally a kid in the stands lit up on fire. He was in a ghillie-suit, and another boy thought he look like pot and flicked his lighter. Soon after my best friend was moved to a private school, I was left to walk the halls alone.
Throughout 2003 and 2004 bomb threats and evacuations cut into the learning curriculum.
December 2000, my nephew died of cancer. I learned that life can reach out to others, he was three years old and the church was packed for his funeral.
September 11, 2001 was on every channel. Everyone went on and on about how terrible it was. I started to worry about the state of the world.
December 2001, my sister died of a blood clot. I saw that people can make a difference to one person in seven months. My sister had taught one year a school, walking out of the funeral I saw a boy from her class fall to his knees and retch in tears.
October 31, 2003 while at a school rally a kid in the stands lit up on fire. He was in a ghillie-suit, and another boy thought he look like pot and flicked his lighter. Soon after my best friend was moved to a private school, I was left to walk the halls alone.
Throughout 2003 and 2004 bomb threats and evacuations cut into the learning curriculum.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Re: (W3) A few minutes in a Deli
The punch clock beeps, letting me know that my break if officially over. I walk myself down the hallway to the deli. I tuck my hair under neath my hat and try to stop the apron strap from sitting on top of my collar. Picking up and lowering my foot I open the swinging door into the back of the department. I wash my hands with warm water, lather soap to my mid forearm, I take a peek at the counter to see the customers looking back at me, hot water washes away the soap and I dry my hands with paper towel. I can feel the impatient eyes on me as I reach for my gloves. The words flow out without thought.
'May I help who was next?' There is a pause and no one answers, 'Anyone not being waited on?'
a women speaks up after looking around. 'I guess that's me.'
'Is there anything I can get for you?'
'Yes, I would like some turkey.'
'Which would you like? We have fourteen types.'
'fourteen, I remember when there was just one type. Um, I don't know a plain turkey.'
'We have four plain turkeys, the Carolina, the Sara lee, the Thin and Trim and the Inspirations.'
'The cheapest one is fine.'
I turn locate the Carolina, put it on the slicer and slice a piece.
'How is that for a slice,'
'Thinner'
'How's this,'
'great'
'And how much would you like?'
'Half a pound'
...
'Anything else that I can get for you?'
'Swiss Cheese'
'Which would you like, we have six types.'
'The regular swiss cheese.'
'The domestic?'
'Yes a quarter pound.'
'How's this for the slice?'
'Fine'
'A little over?'
'Yeah, that's fine.'
Anything else I can get for you?'
'No thank you.'
'Thank you'
-NK
'May I help who was next?' There is a pause and no one answers, 'Anyone not being waited on?'
a women speaks up after looking around. 'I guess that's me.'
'Is there anything I can get for you?'
'Yes, I would like some turkey.'
'Which would you like? We have fourteen types.'
'fourteen, I remember when there was just one type. Um, I don't know a plain turkey.'
'We have four plain turkeys, the Carolina, the Sara lee, the Thin and Trim and the Inspirations.'
'The cheapest one is fine.'
I turn locate the Carolina, put it on the slicer and slice a piece.
'How is that for a slice,'
'Thinner'
'How's this,'
'great'
'And how much would you like?'
'Half a pound'
...
'Anything else that I can get for you?'
'Swiss Cheese'
'Which would you like, we have six types.'
'The regular swiss cheese.'
'The domestic?'
'Yes a quarter pound.'
'How's this for the slice?'
'Fine'
'A little over?'
'Yeah, that's fine.'
Anything else I can get for you?'
'No thank you.'
'Thank you'
-NK
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Journal Entry #9: Tears of Joy
Today my family gathered for my brother's wedding. Between my brother's friends and family and his now wife's friends and family there were over forty people to witness the wedding. The ceremony itself was beautiful, from the line 'If anyone has anything to say about the join of these two can shut up and deal with it' to the kiss the ceremony was less then ten minutes.
The one thing that hits home for me where two tears. The first I saw on my brothers cheek when his bride said her vows. The second tear was just as wondrous, it was welled up on the bottom of my father's bifocals. I have seen tears from both of them before, but this was the first time I had seen a tear because they were happy. Words cannot come close to capturing how I feel having seen tears of joy from the two men in my family.
-NK
The one thing that hits home for me where two tears. The first I saw on my brothers cheek when his bride said her vows. The second tear was just as wondrous, it was welled up on the bottom of my father's bifocals. I have seen tears from both of them before, but this was the first time I had seen a tear because they were happy. Words cannot come close to capturing how I feel having seen tears of joy from the two men in my family.
-NK
(W3) A few minutes in a Deli
For those that have been to a deli in the last year, you can skip the rest of this paragraph (though you would miss out). Supermarkets house a good selection of food, the deli holds a few more choices then people normally realize. My deli is run on the honor system where people wait until the people before them were served at the counter.
To show you two conversations that tend to happen frequently (semi-w/the intent to open deli costumer relations to a new degree.) I will be playing the role of deli sale clerk and I will have a customer.
A middle aged man and myself:
I start the conversation 'May I help who was next?' No response given by the few people lined up. 'Anyone not being waited on?'
'I guess it's me.'
'Hello,'
'Hi, how are you today?'
'I am doing well and yourself?'
'Fine'
'Is there anything I can get for you?'
'What do you have for a turkey?'
'Well we have fourteen different types of turkey, was their anything that you were looking for in your turkey?'
'Just a plain one, do you have a turkey that is low in sodium?'
'Yep the golden home style,'
Next is a younger women and myself.
Because she was standing at the counter alone, I say 'Hi, how are you today?'
'Good, I need a pound of potato salad.'
'Which would you like,' as the women moves to see the choices 'we have the red royal, the baked, the creamy white, the German and a sweet potato salad.'
'Oh, hmm.'
'Are their any you would like to taste?'
'No,..., the baked looks good, I will have a pound of that.'
To show you two conversations that tend to happen frequently (semi-w/the intent to open deli costumer relations to a new degree.) I will be playing the role of deli sale clerk and I will have a customer.
A middle aged man and myself:
I start the conversation 'May I help who was next?' No response given by the few people lined up. 'Anyone not being waited on?'
'I guess it's me.'
'Hello,'
'Hi, how are you today?'
'I am doing well and yourself?'
'Fine'
'Is there anything I can get for you?'
'What do you have for a turkey?'
'Well we have fourteen different types of turkey, was their anything that you were looking for in your turkey?'
'Just a plain one, do you have a turkey that is low in sodium?'
'Yep the golden home style,'
Next is a younger women and myself.
Because she was standing at the counter alone, I say 'Hi, how are you today?'
'Good, I need a pound of potato salad.'
'Which would you like,' as the women moves to see the choices 'we have the red royal, the baked, the creamy white, the German and a sweet potato salad.'
'Oh, hmm.'
'Are their any you would like to taste?'
'No,..., the baked looks good, I will have a pound of that.'
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Re: (W2) Mental Histroy
One day my mother and I were discussing what I was like in grade school, she retold a story that my second grade teacher had told her in a parent teacher conference: "Well Nicholas has a unique personality, one day I saw him lying in the grass. I went over to see if he was ok, he looked over at me and said 'Oh...yeah, I am just meditating.' I asked 'What do you mean?' 'Oh, I am just looking up at the trees and trying to not think, it's called meditating." If I close my eyes and think about those trees, I can see them reach up to the sky and bow in the wind. Weather or not I was reaching out to myself in the years to come, I made a lasting memory.
As the years went on, I developed I different way of learning and achieve grades. I think it was more the text's lack of movement, then an actual distaste for reading; but I learned how to write book reports and answer questions on tests without really taking the time to read the book. Early on I could just look at the pictures and make up the story as I went. Then the teachers would read the information out in class. Third grade I had to start to rely on the information of kids that had actually read the books, I would take two or three people's responses of the book, cut out what did not line up and give my opinion on what was going on in the story.
It was my fifth grade social studies teacher that led to the discovery of my lower then average reading level. Some whole quizzes were straight from the book and I had no one to rely on for information, it was too dry for people to want to talk about. My sister, C, learned that I was having a hard time reading and she started to work at it with me. Really all she had to do was explain why it was necessary for me to read and encourage me when I did. C was more then my big sister, she was like a surrogate mother. I always wanted to make myself worthy of the unconditional love she had for me.
In seventh grade, I reached my reading level. It was then my world changed, my mother and sister T where treated for Cancer, and my sister M's son died of cancer. The words 'I love you' and hugs were appropriate for any family member going somewhere. A year later that proved to be the only thing that held me together. Dec 5th my sister had closed the back door to the house, I yelled 'Hey!' the door opened, the puzzled and saddened look on her face changed melted as soon as I said 'you left without giving me my hug.' We hugged and smiled. The next day she died of a blood clot, that had collapsed her lung.
Less then a week later I was in school again, but I had no set standards to live up to anymore. The only thing I tried to do was maintain a B average to keep from being lectured. I had lost the flavor of life and I was just living in an empty shell. My old group of friends went their own ways, there was still the occasional get together but nothing day to day. For the longest time I had no will to make new friends and when I did again, I did not really know how.
With nothing to focus my attention I started to learn what I wanted to know about things. I would ask questions about anything that flowed through my mind. After a while I enjoyed the negative attention I received from my classmates. Though I would have traded it away to be able to sit down and talk about mundane things, without knowing what it was to lose a loved one. Part of me wanted to be loved unconditionally, the other part wanted to be as far away from others; not to save myself from pain but to shield them. What if someone fell in love with me and I died?
Time continued on and I received an envelope with a catalog of events held by Lead America. The letter sent with it stated that I had been chosen based on my academic merit and seemed to be a key to a new life. I worked for eight months as a laborer to go to the conference. I earned the money with my bare hands, raking blueberries and splitting wood. I went to the Law and Trail Advocacy Conference; I made friends with people all over the country and I found out that I may have been the only one to work to get there. I built up my courage by making the best of the conference I worked for, I built up my confidence because of the friends I made. I tore apart a statistician in a mock trail and found a piece of myself.
With the new found courage and confidence, I acquired a girlfriend. The day before I started to run cross country I contracted mono from my girlfriend. I started to feel sick and tired, so I went to my family doctor. I asked for a blood test to be taken to see if I had mono, the doctor explained that he thought that I did not have mono and that I should come back if things got worse and he would take my blood. His reasoning sounded logical, I did have a large plate, so I continued to run. When the season was over I got really sick, I needed to sleep all the time and I was depressed. I went to a new doctor, because my old one had closed his doors. My symptoms and prior family illness, was sufficient to start on bipolar medication. My girlfriend dumped me because I was depressed all the time, this led to a further depression and I got worse and almost passed out in class. So I scheduled another meeting with my doctor and asked to be tested for mono. As it turned out I had had mono the entirety of my Cross country.
I went to college and continued to take the medication. Part way through my second semester I got really sick, all I could do was sleep and I would sweat in 34 degree weather. I suffered from muscle pains that sent me to the emergency room, each time I was turned away stating it as muscle strain. I failed two of my classes and withdrew from another. I did not want to go home so I stayed for the summer.
I was 19 and in Portland during the summer. I started to smoke pot with one of my friends. I could think again and it felt good. The mix of pot and my medication tore my brain to pieces. Then my reformed drug addict friend sat me down and said 'look at yourself, you can't even hold a full sentence. You are a lot better then this' I thought about it, he was right. I stopped smoking pot and I stopped taking the medication. I found a huge dept, some family issues and I decided home would be the best place to clean out.
I worked for a semester and then got back into school, this time while living at home. I started to work on the things that were effecting me. Then in April I went to take care of my father, the doctors had decided that they needed another family member to take care of his medication. It turned out that his living conditions were bad. My step mother was not well and their case worker was over worked at best. I saw every emotion that he went through as my step mother yelled at him and accused him of adultery.
It got to the point that my father said that he wanted to leave, within three hours we were out the door. The next day I made sure that he saw his brother and sister, because I knew that he would be moving to my sister house in Pennsylvania. After we met with his siblings we sat down and he started to cry about everything. He cried about the death of his parents, he cried about his brothers and sister's aliments, he cried about his divorce, he cried about my nephew, he cried about my sister. It was as though it had all just happened and all I could do was offer a listening ear and accept his grief.
I never wanted to have to live a moment like that. I refused to just leave my emotions unchecked until I have a mental breakdown. I started to search for how to deal with the emotions. In my search I read two books 'Dance of Anger' and 'Life After Loss' and I wrote an essay 'Dealing with Emotions'. The process trudged me through all the emotions that I had not dealt with, I wrote out everything that bothered me and if I had to cry I just let the tears flow down my cheeks as I wrote.
If there was anything that I learned through all of this tragedy is that it is part of life. I know when to cry and I know when to smile. Now all I have to do is learn patience and social skills; I guess I always did like to go from last to first. Meditation before critical thinking, book reports before reading, dealing with grief before social skills.
-NK
As the years went on, I developed I different way of learning and achieve grades. I think it was more the text's lack of movement, then an actual distaste for reading; but I learned how to write book reports and answer questions on tests without really taking the time to read the book. Early on I could just look at the pictures and make up the story as I went. Then the teachers would read the information out in class. Third grade I had to start to rely on the information of kids that had actually read the books, I would take two or three people's responses of the book, cut out what did not line up and give my opinion on what was going on in the story.
It was my fifth grade social studies teacher that led to the discovery of my lower then average reading level. Some whole quizzes were straight from the book and I had no one to rely on for information, it was too dry for people to want to talk about. My sister, C, learned that I was having a hard time reading and she started to work at it with me. Really all she had to do was explain why it was necessary for me to read and encourage me when I did. C was more then my big sister, she was like a surrogate mother. I always wanted to make myself worthy of the unconditional love she had for me.
In seventh grade, I reached my reading level. It was then my world changed, my mother and sister T where treated for Cancer, and my sister M's son died of cancer. The words 'I love you' and hugs were appropriate for any family member going somewhere. A year later that proved to be the only thing that held me together. Dec 5th my sister had closed the back door to the house, I yelled 'Hey!' the door opened, the puzzled and saddened look on her face changed melted as soon as I said 'you left without giving me my hug.' We hugged and smiled. The next day she died of a blood clot, that had collapsed her lung.
Less then a week later I was in school again, but I had no set standards to live up to anymore. The only thing I tried to do was maintain a B average to keep from being lectured. I had lost the flavor of life and I was just living in an empty shell. My old group of friends went their own ways, there was still the occasional get together but nothing day to day. For the longest time I had no will to make new friends and when I did again, I did not really know how.
With nothing to focus my attention I started to learn what I wanted to know about things. I would ask questions about anything that flowed through my mind. After a while I enjoyed the negative attention I received from my classmates. Though I would have traded it away to be able to sit down and talk about mundane things, without knowing what it was to lose a loved one. Part of me wanted to be loved unconditionally, the other part wanted to be as far away from others; not to save myself from pain but to shield them. What if someone fell in love with me and I died?
Time continued on and I received an envelope with a catalog of events held by Lead America. The letter sent with it stated that I had been chosen based on my academic merit and seemed to be a key to a new life. I worked for eight months as a laborer to go to the conference. I earned the money with my bare hands, raking blueberries and splitting wood. I went to the Law and Trail Advocacy Conference; I made friends with people all over the country and I found out that I may have been the only one to work to get there. I built up my courage by making the best of the conference I worked for, I built up my confidence because of the friends I made. I tore apart a statistician in a mock trail and found a piece of myself.
With the new found courage and confidence, I acquired a girlfriend. The day before I started to run cross country I contracted mono from my girlfriend. I started to feel sick and tired, so I went to my family doctor. I asked for a blood test to be taken to see if I had mono, the doctor explained that he thought that I did not have mono and that I should come back if things got worse and he would take my blood. His reasoning sounded logical, I did have a large plate, so I continued to run. When the season was over I got really sick, I needed to sleep all the time and I was depressed. I went to a new doctor, because my old one had closed his doors. My symptoms and prior family illness, was sufficient to start on bipolar medication. My girlfriend dumped me because I was depressed all the time, this led to a further depression and I got worse and almost passed out in class. So I scheduled another meeting with my doctor and asked to be tested for mono. As it turned out I had had mono the entirety of my Cross country.
I went to college and continued to take the medication. Part way through my second semester I got really sick, all I could do was sleep and I would sweat in 34 degree weather. I suffered from muscle pains that sent me to the emergency room, each time I was turned away stating it as muscle strain. I failed two of my classes and withdrew from another. I did not want to go home so I stayed for the summer.
I was 19 and in Portland during the summer. I started to smoke pot with one of my friends. I could think again and it felt good. The mix of pot and my medication tore my brain to pieces. Then my reformed drug addict friend sat me down and said 'look at yourself, you can't even hold a full sentence. You are a lot better then this' I thought about it, he was right. I stopped smoking pot and I stopped taking the medication. I found a huge dept, some family issues and I decided home would be the best place to clean out.
I worked for a semester and then got back into school, this time while living at home. I started to work on the things that were effecting me. Then in April I went to take care of my father, the doctors had decided that they needed another family member to take care of his medication. It turned out that his living conditions were bad. My step mother was not well and their case worker was over worked at best. I saw every emotion that he went through as my step mother yelled at him and accused him of adultery.
It got to the point that my father said that he wanted to leave, within three hours we were out the door. The next day I made sure that he saw his brother and sister, because I knew that he would be moving to my sister house in Pennsylvania. After we met with his siblings we sat down and he started to cry about everything. He cried about the death of his parents, he cried about his brothers and sister's aliments, he cried about his divorce, he cried about my nephew, he cried about my sister. It was as though it had all just happened and all I could do was offer a listening ear and accept his grief.
I never wanted to have to live a moment like that. I refused to just leave my emotions unchecked until I have a mental breakdown. I started to search for how to deal with the emotions. In my search I read two books 'Dance of Anger' and 'Life After Loss' and I wrote an essay 'Dealing with Emotions'. The process trudged me through all the emotions that I had not dealt with, I wrote out everything that bothered me and if I had to cry I just let the tears flow down my cheeks as I wrote.
If there was anything that I learned through all of this tragedy is that it is part of life. I know when to cry and I know when to smile. Now all I have to do is learn patience and social skills; I guess I always did like to go from last to first. Meditation before critical thinking, book reports before reading, dealing with grief before social skills.
-NK
(W2) Mental History
One day I was sitting with my mother and she just started to laugh about something. She had run into my second grade teacher earlier that week and something reminded her of something my teacher said at the parent teacher conference. Retold by my mother : "Well Nicholas has a unique personality, one day I saw him lying in the grass. I went over to see if he was ok, he looked over at me and said 'Oh...yeah, I am just meditating.' I asked 'What do you mean?' 'Oh, I am just looking up at the trees and trying to not think, it's called meditating.'
I learned how to listen and retain information well, around the fourth or fifth grade they found that I had first grade reading level. I can remember being able to recall the story when it was read to me and for the stories that had to be read on my own, I just talked to my classmates about. If I could get people to tell me what they remembered of the story I could fill in the blanks. I quickly learned that I was getting better grades then the kids that read the books and it took me less time. For all my other classes the teacher would say everything that was going to be on the test, so reading from the book was pointless. The downfall to my abilities to do no work and pull the grades was my Social Studies class, most of the test were straight from the book and no one could explain what they had read, because it was not a story.
My Sister C got me reading and she recognized the talents that I had when it came to learning. She died half way through my eight grade year. I no longer cared about learning, what was the point? School was just the place I had to go everyday and to avoid being lectured about how much better I was then the grades I just made sure to get B's. B was easy to achieve without a lot of effort and it was enough to not be lectured on.
Because achieving academic merit was not the reason I was in high school I started to ask questions. Most questions were related enough and allowed me to learn the information, but socially they made people very mad. Those that placed there Academic Merits as a sign of stature loathed my Socratic questions.
The summer before my senior year I attended a Lead America conference on Law and Trail Advocacy. It taught me a lot about how to apply my abilities and how to be confidant in whatever I want to do. Not to soon after I had a girlfriend and was running Cross Country. The day before practice I contracted mono from my girlfriend. I ran the full season and destroyed my immune system. I started getting a lot of colds and the lack of endorphins from the running got me depressed. The depression and physical illness showed the signs of early bi-polarism. So I was started on 10ml of Abilify. My girlfriend dumped me and I was depressed and sick.
6 months after I started the Abilify I started to get really ill and I went to the emergency three of four times for what they decided was muscle strain. It was hard to use my ability to think out of the box and then make connection to what I was saying. People thought I was funny and odd. It got to the point where I just slept all the time, I physically needed it but it was written off as depression.
I was a reckless 19 year old in Portland, Maine. I started to smoke pot while still taking the Abilify. Early in I could think but not express the thoughts and it removed stress and made me fell good. One of my reformed drug addict friends sat me down and said 'look at you'. And I did, I stopped the Abilify and the pot. I found a huge dept, issues with the family and I needed to clean up. So I moved home and started to deal with my depression.
I found out that I had just not been listening to my emotions and I had been repressing how I had felt. I learned the tough lesson of allowing yourself to stop trying to progress and just give in. In April my father got really sick, my step mother was not taking care of him well and the case worker was overworked at best. I spent the last five days that my father and step mother lived together. I saw what he was going through because he had shut down years ago. I took my father to see his brother and sister before he went to live with my sister. I talked to him as tears poured about things that had happened years before.
I decided that I was not going to be a victim to my undealt with emotions anymore. I used a final project for my English class to write an essay about emotions. I read 'Dance of Anger' and 'Life After Loss' and they confirmed that I was someone suffering from undealt with emotions and gave me tools to deal with my emotions.
-NK
I learned how to listen and retain information well, around the fourth or fifth grade they found that I had first grade reading level. I can remember being able to recall the story when it was read to me and for the stories that had to be read on my own, I just talked to my classmates about. If I could get people to tell me what they remembered of the story I could fill in the blanks. I quickly learned that I was getting better grades then the kids that read the books and it took me less time. For all my other classes the teacher would say everything that was going to be on the test, so reading from the book was pointless. The downfall to my abilities to do no work and pull the grades was my Social Studies class, most of the test were straight from the book and no one could explain what they had read, because it was not a story.
My Sister C got me reading and she recognized the talents that I had when it came to learning. She died half way through my eight grade year. I no longer cared about learning, what was the point? School was just the place I had to go everyday and to avoid being lectured about how much better I was then the grades I just made sure to get B's. B was easy to achieve without a lot of effort and it was enough to not be lectured on.
Because achieving academic merit was not the reason I was in high school I started to ask questions. Most questions were related enough and allowed me to learn the information, but socially they made people very mad. Those that placed there Academic Merits as a sign of stature loathed my Socratic questions.
The summer before my senior year I attended a Lead America conference on Law and Trail Advocacy. It taught me a lot about how to apply my abilities and how to be confidant in whatever I want to do. Not to soon after I had a girlfriend and was running Cross Country. The day before practice I contracted mono from my girlfriend. I ran the full season and destroyed my immune system. I started getting a lot of colds and the lack of endorphins from the running got me depressed. The depression and physical illness showed the signs of early bi-polarism. So I was started on 10ml of Abilify. My girlfriend dumped me and I was depressed and sick.
6 months after I started the Abilify I started to get really ill and I went to the emergency three of four times for what they decided was muscle strain. It was hard to use my ability to think out of the box and then make connection to what I was saying. People thought I was funny and odd. It got to the point where I just slept all the time, I physically needed it but it was written off as depression.
I was a reckless 19 year old in Portland, Maine. I started to smoke pot while still taking the Abilify. Early in I could think but not express the thoughts and it removed stress and made me fell good. One of my reformed drug addict friends sat me down and said 'look at you'. And I did, I stopped the Abilify and the pot. I found a huge dept, issues with the family and I needed to clean up. So I moved home and started to deal with my depression.
I found out that I had just not been listening to my emotions and I had been repressing how I had felt. I learned the tough lesson of allowing yourself to stop trying to progress and just give in. In April my father got really sick, my step mother was not taking care of him well and the case worker was overworked at best. I spent the last five days that my father and step mother lived together. I saw what he was going through because he had shut down years ago. I took my father to see his brother and sister before he went to live with my sister. I talked to him as tears poured about things that had happened years before.
I decided that I was not going to be a victim to my undealt with emotions anymore. I used a final project for my English class to write an essay about emotions. I read 'Dance of Anger' and 'Life After Loss' and they confirmed that I was someone suffering from undealt with emotions and gave me tools to deal with my emotions.
-NK
Journal Entry #8: The Corner Store
About five minutes out of the door I decided that instant breakfast and a multivitamin just was not going to do. My stomach started to churn as I thought about a Ham Italian sandwich, I remembered the simple joy of siting at the pier and eating one with my father, the sandwich was calling me to embrace memories that had long since buried themselves under daily stress.
As I was standing in the line I got mad at all the people standing between me and my simple pleasure of the past. When the sandwich had done all it promised, I realized that the people in front of me where probably looking for that same feeling. They were all of the age that it would be most likely that their fathers would take them to the convenience store and sit down in some area he felt the most peaceful, just staring out into the sky; turning to laugh at them when they got a drip of oil on their shirt. Some may not even know why the sandwich makes them feel warm inside, as though they belonged and were loved.
-NK
As I was standing in the line I got mad at all the people standing between me and my simple pleasure of the past. When the sandwich had done all it promised, I realized that the people in front of me where probably looking for that same feeling. They were all of the age that it would be most likely that their fathers would take them to the convenience store and sit down in some area he felt the most peaceful, just staring out into the sky; turning to laugh at them when they got a drip of oil on their shirt. Some may not even know why the sandwich makes them feel warm inside, as though they belonged and were loved.
-NK
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