Journal Entry #16: Free Write

Journal Entry #16: "Let This Light Explode"

Write about a topic of your choice.

The other day, I invited a few friends over. We watched some UFC and drank some beers (between you and I, haha), and everything seemed normal. It wasn’t until everyone had left around 2am that I came to a realization: I hadn’t seen one of those friends in over a year, and the rest hadn’t seen him in over two. It seemed strange, because he had only moved to St. Catharines. It wasn’t as if he’d moved hours away. Feeling inspired, I decided that, at 2am, I would write a blog about my feelings toward my friends, and what I feel the future holds for all of us in regards to staying close. I went upstairs to the computer to see a note posted on the screen: "Computer’s got a virus, leave it off." Damn. What’s worse, is that due to the fact that I’ve become rather technologically-inclined, I found myself unable to formulate a proper flow of ideas while writing on paper. So, 4 days later, with my computer returned and virus-free, I’ve decided to write the journal entry I intended to write 4 days ago.

I actually started thinking hard about this. I mean, why hadn’t I seen this kid, one of my best friends, in over a year? It’s not like it would have even been hard. He’d asked me a few days earlier if I was free this weekend, and we made plans. Simple as that. I don’t know why I hadn’t done it sooner. It seems ridiculous. We’d drifted apart for no real reason, and I didn’t like it. (At this point, I should remark on the frustration I’m feeling in writing this journal. I have so much I want to say, yet I’m unsure of how to say it, or how to make it all connect. I have paragraphs spaced out over 2 pages, and I don’t know what to do with them). What’s even more frustrating is that I can’t think of a reason as to why we hadn’t seen each other in so long. I suppose it’s just that people drift apart. It’s unfortunate, but I think I’ll drift apart from a lot of my other friends in the near future.

One thing I’ve noticed about myself is that I have several different groups of friends, and I spend a lot of time with a lot of different people doing different things. I don’t like how I’ll lose some of these friends eventually. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I’m going to end up with no friends, haha. I just know that many of these friends will become a thing of the past. I’m just thinking about how much I’ll miss doing all these things, and all these people.

With university being just months away, and everyone thinking about where they’re going to go, I couldn’t help but start thinking. We’re all going to drift apart from each other. Not even drift apart, explode apart. We'll explode from the confines of our little high school, and go flying off into countless different directions like rays of light. While I was reading in the library today, I started talking to a few of my friends, and we began discussing what we were doing next year. Two plan on going to college, two plan on going to university, and one is coming back for 12B. The ones who plan on going to college and university plan on going to different ones. We all seemed pretty (for lack of a better word at this time) bummed out by the end of the conversation. I brought this up in fourth period, and got the same answers, everyone is doing something different. I really don’t like this. While it’s a given that I will meet new people regardless of where I go next year, I wish I was able to keep all the ones I have now. But I think it’s going to be excruciatingly difficult to do so, considering I can’t even keep in touch with one who lives 10 minutes away. I’m sure many people feel the same way I do about this topic. Thoughts like this are really causing me to make as many memories as I can in these last few months.

If I could remember every memory between my friends and I, every funny moment, every inside joke, I would be in a vegetative state. This is because every area of my brain would be crammed with memories, and would have no spare room for the parts that control any bodily functions, such as breathing. My point being: I’ve made a lot of memories. The problem with this idea is I don’t have all that spare room, and these memories fade. I don’t remember most of the good times I had in grade 1-8 with my friends, and I’m sure the same will happen in the future with the memories I’ve made now. Many of them will just fade, and that’s a shame.

I should also apologize, as I don’t intend to sound like I’m whining, or pessimistic. Both are just coming natural to me right now. However, all this thought on the subject has made me realize how much I really should just appreciate the time I have left with these friends, and all the memories I should make, regardless of whether or not they fade in the future. I should also be looking forward to the prospect of the future, rather than dreading it. I should let this light explode. Though I’m not looking forward to it now, I’m sure I will in time. On that note, I’m exhausted, and, after trimming down this massive journal, plan on going to bed.

Original version: 1527 words
Submitted version: 1000 words

Narrative Poem: The Crooked Mile

The Crooked Mile

And so he’s at it again
He’s on another bender
He’s thinking about giving in
But his liver won’t surrender

So he continues to swallow them down
As everyone cheers him on
He’s like a king, with no throne or crown
Just the barstool he’s perched upon

Around 3 a.m., he bids goodnight
With nothing more than a smile
Then he vomits under a streetlight
And chooses to wander around for a while

He stumbles around for an hour or three
Walking a crooked mile
Until he decides to climb up a tree
As if, in this state, he’s versatile

After climbing for a while, he looks around
How in the world did he climb this high?
He loses his grip, and plummets to the ground
While he flaps both his arms, trying to fly

He hits the dirt, and gets to his feet
Now he just wants to go home
The thought of his bed seems oh so sweet
And so he chooses to no longer roam

In no time it seems, he makes it to his house
He can’t wait to go inside
He scurries to the door, as quick as a mouse
Excited for the warmth his house will provide

He reaches into his pocket with a drunken grace
It was quite a sight for the eyes to see
But you should have seen the look on his face
When he realized he’d lost his house key

Poem: Redemption

Redemption

Nothing is safe
Not memories, not justified angst
Swallowed whole, with no escape,
Just time to waste
With a distress too much to console
Fiercely feeding on self-loathing and denial

The wretched memory
Of a day turned black
The reason I’ve come to say
"I’ll fail you"

I’ve lost all respect for what I have left
I’m holding up strong, yet I’m falling apart at the seams
These memories make it so hard to sleep

The sound of a name
It’s been so long
Invoking tempers
Within those without deaf ears
With a tragically failed attempt at "redemption"

Words long since discarded
Re-emerge, to have me sink a knee deeper still
Inciting remorse and regret from times before
As familiar markings quickly become foreign

The wretched memory
Of a day turned black
The reason I’ve come to say
"I’ll fail you"

I’ve lost all respect for what I have left
I’m holding up strong, yet I’m falling apart at the seams
These memories make it so hard to sleep

These hearts beat deep within the shallowest depths
And cry out "salvation"
But nothing will save you here
In a coat of despair
Held under a shattering force
With no acceptance of the present

Nothing is safe
Not memories, not justified angst
Swallowed whole, with no escape, just time to waste

The wretched memory
Of a day turned black
The reason I’ve come to say
"I’ll fail you"

I’ve lost all respect for what I have left
I’m holding up strong, yet I’m falling apart at the seams
These memories make it so hard to sleep

Journal Entry #15: "Digital Education"

Journal Entry #15: "Digital Education"

It was really impressive to see some EWC students helping Mr. MacDonald's law class get into the 'blogosphere.' I realized that as a group this semester's EWC students have some specialized skills that are likely to serve them well in various contexts (school, work, recreation).

How do you feel about blogging now that you have had an opportunity to develop a history with it over the past two and a half months? Do you feel that you are more or less organized and productive than you would be "the old fashioned way?" What are some of the advantages? What are some of the drawbacks? What advice might you give to students starting the course next semester about how to get the most out of their blogging experience?

In the past few months, I’ve really come to like using the blog to submit assignments. I find that it makes things a lot easier. If I finish an assignment, regardless of when, I can just go online and submit it. I don’t have to wait until the next day, or Monday, which is good considering I’m not very organized and have lost assignments in the past. That’s another reason why I like the blog: I’m not organized. My binder (until today) was full of loose, scrambled papers. The blog allows me to take up minimal space in my binder, which is a definite plus. As a matter of fact, today I organized my binder, and divided all of my subjects into separate binders, instead of the single binder I had prior. I was very surprised to find that, out of the 200+ pages in my binder, only 6 of them were from this course. If only sociology was done online. . . The blog is also very effective because I’m only given the necessary work for the class, rather than a bunch of internet print-offs on the subject (as I can just research information on the subject on the computer during class). I also like how a calendar which contains outlines and information for all our assignments is posted each month. That makes it extremely easy for me to know exactly what to do, how to do it, and when it’s due. I find that I’m also able to get more work done by working online, as I type much faster than I write (I would consider myself to be a fast typer, but a slow writer). The fact remains, working online has definitely helped me stay organized, and on top of my work in this class.

On the other hand, I feel it is damaging my productivity. While I don’t go on Facebook during class, a few other students and I will get sidetracked by looking up things on websites such as Wikipedia. The problem with this situation is that you can’t block every website, as we all explore the internet when we do our assignments (researching writers, looking at poems, etc.). It’s a situation that relies heavily on trust, and some of us abuse that trust.

While an almost entirely online course is a great idea, it's not without it's faults, though they are few in number, and minor. The main problem I find with the online aspect of this course is how frustratingly slow the internet is at times. I’m not sure what causes the internet to work so slowly, but I’m getting pretty sick of reinstalling FireFox every day just so I can use the internet at a decent speed. This is likely just due to the amount of people using the internet at the same time throughout the school, though. Another minor drawback with the online aspect, in my opinion, is using Diigo. Don't get me wrong, I think it is a great feature, and makes it easy for me to check my marks, and view comments. I just hate how I have to search the list of recent activity in order to find comments on my posts. Then, once I find one, I have to do it again for other posts, as Diigo won’t just save a list of all comments on every post of mine in one section. I’m fairly sure that there must be a way to change this, but I haven’t really tried to. The only other problem I find with the online aspect is typing on Blogger. At times, I will try to change a characteristic of certain words, and the whole entry will be affected (becoming a larger size, bolded, etc.). It’s not that I don’t know how to use these features, it’s that they don’t work properly at times. I’ll try to centre a title, and the entire post will centre. No matter what I do to correct it, I can’t. The entire thing will be either centred, or none of it will. There are other times when I’ll try to put spaces between paragraphs, and it won’t let me. There will be spaces on the pre-submitted form, but there will be no spaces once I submit it. If that happens, I have to deal with the annoyance of putting in the HTML code equivalent of hitting the "Enter" key. These are all minor annoyances though, and are small in comparison to the pros of using the internet.

To other students who use a blog in the future, the only advice I could really give is: "don’t get frustrated at the things I just mentioned," "use FireFox" "save your work," and "try to stay on task." The internet can get extremely slow, to the point of sheer frustration, and it’s so easy to get distracted, as you are given more freedom than you would in other classes. Just force yourself to not check Facebook every 10 minutes, and don’t let the little things get to you, because using the internet is so rewarding in the long run for this class. Also, save your work. Nothing is as frustrating as losing something you've written, or having to re-type it. As long as you follow that advice, I can’t see you having much of a problem in this course.

Ode To The Night

Ode To The Night

The world is a different place at night
As moonlight casts shadows from overhead
I walk the streets in the glow of moonlight
While all the world has long since gone to bed

As these lit streetlights line every street
The stars hang up above, light years away
While we cast shadows clear enough to trace
But what really makes the night seem complete
Is that there are no feelings of dismay
As I wander, wrapped in the night’s embrace

But sooner or later the sun will rise
To signal the beginning of the day
To the dismay of my dilated eyes
It’s a shame that we have to part this way

So, for the moment, I must say goodbye
To the time when I breathe the midnight air
The time when we all look like silhouettes
As the sun begins to crack through the sky
I see it quite fit to simply declare
That I know the night’s as good as it gets

Choice Poem(s)

Choice Poems

Here are three poems I've written over the past two days in class, I'm submitting them as the "Poem[s] of [My] Choice."

Shot For Shot

Shot for shot
These bullets rip through me
And it’s impossible to stand tall through it all
When this back supports a mountain
As the shattering precision in a voice
Pierces with such intent
With such malice, that it could put any bullet to shame

Yet I surrender
To nothing
And run
From no one
“These scars will fade, fight on.”

Believe I’m trying to fight for what I believe in,
But I’ve become near-catatonic
From going through the motions, again and again
I’m trying my hardest, but I know I can’t win.

At what time have you lost the war:
When you first fall,
Or when you can’t get back up?

Yet I surrender
To nothing
And run
From no one
“These scars will fade, fight on.”

Believe I’m trying to fight for what I believe in,
But I’ve become near-catatonic
From going through the motions, again and again
I’m trying my hardest, but I know I can’t win.

Yet I surrender
To nothing
And run
From no one
“These scars will fade, fight on.”


Oh, The Irony

The day is over
But time is meaningless to me
In a drunken stupor, I rehearse this as I walk the streets

So far from sober
Kept company by loneliness
Could you put me back together?
It seems I’ve become quite the mess.

There’s an image burned in the back of my eyes
Second face is failure if you play for first prize
Oh, the irony

The street lights shine over
As if to further mute this silence
And come tomorrow I may forget all these words meant.

I can’t keep drinking
But I think I just might
Because everything’s looking much darker tonight

There’s an image burned in the back of my eyes
Second face is failure if you play for first prize
Oh, the irony

The weight of my words, nothing could compare
But it’s hard to speak when I’m choking on air
Oh, the irony

I feel like I'm walking on a wire
And I feel like no one can relate
I deserve better
But I could care less
I’m getting too caught up in this

I feel like I'm walking on a wire
And I feel like no one can relate
I deserve better
But I could care less
I’m getting too caught up in this

There’s an image burned in the back of my eyes
Second face is failure if you play for first prize
Oh, the irony

The weight of my words, nothing could compare
But it’s hard to speak when I’m choking on air
Oh, the irony

There’s an image burned in the back of my eyes
Second face is failure if you play for first prize
Oh, the irony

Oh, the irony.


Waiting For Things To Change

We’ve all fallen down before
We’ve all landed face first before
We’ve all seen things we didn’t want to see
We’ve all been things we didn’t want to be

Some things just make me sick
And I’m tired of dealing with it
It’s more than I can take
And I’m so tired of staying up late
Waiting for things to change

Everyone’s face is painted
Everyone’s trying to hide themselves
I shouldn’t need paint thinner just to see
What everyone around me is really thinking

Some things just make me sick
And I’m tired of dealing with it
It’s more than I can take

Some things just make me sick
And I’m tired of dealing with it
I’m so tired of staying up late
Waiting for things to change

Journal Entry #14: "Nurturing Your Inner Writer"

Journal Entry #14: "Nurturing Your Inner Writer"

To what extent are people born writers? How much are they able to cultivate the writer within through education and experience?

What activities and experiences can you engage in in order to develop your inner writer? What part of your past has best helped you become the writer you are now? How motivated are you to continue developing your writing ability over a lifetime?

In my opinion, people really aren’t born writers. Nobody is born to do anything. While it would be an interesting concept, that certain people were destined for a certain thing, I just don’t believe it. Rather, I believe that people can show a knack for doing a certain thing early in life, something they become passionate about, and nurture throughout their life through practice in order to become extremely talented at it. The things a writer experiences in life can become the greatest influence in their writing. There is no doubt that the things we experience influence who we are and what we do, so it is only natural that this would also be an influence on what someone writes. However, it is also important that a writer is educated on how to write properly. While it is important for a writer to forge their own path, why bother if the person wasn’t taught how to walk down that path properly? Anyone who is good at anything had to be taught how to do it first.

There are several activities that I engage in in order to develop my inner writer. First of all, I took this course. I figure spending about 300 minutes a week focusing on writing is a great way to become better at it, especially when that is the entire purpose of the class. Another way I try to develop my inner writer is by asking people what they think of my writing. I constantly have people look over the things I write, asking for things I could improve on. I’m also very critical of my writing. Even if people compliment the things I write, I typically don’t agree. While that’s not necessarily a good trait of mine, there is no doubt in my opinion that it helps me nurture my inner writer, by forcing myself to always strive to produce the best writing I can.

There aren’t many things in my past that have helped me become the writer I am now. I was never encouraged to write, it was just something that I decided to do on my own. However, like everyone, there are past experiences that give me something to write about. While it may not always be positive things I write about, I find that most people like what I write regardless. Some of my writing isn’t even from my perspective. For example, the majority of the poetry I’ve submitted is from others' perspectives of situations, and one of the poems I’m considering submitting comes from the perspective of someone who is intoxicated at the time (though I obviously don’t get drunk and write poetry). My point of all this being, I’m never left with nothing to write about, be it about me or not.

I’m extremely motivated to continue my writing ability throughout my life. I started writing on my own time as early as grade 3, maybe even earlier. I remember my class would write stories back in grade 3 that we would read to the rest of the class, and I would have twice as many written compared to the rest of the class. Thinking of how much my writing has developed since then, I look forward to seeing how much more I can develop it. I’d love to become known for my writing, though that may be more of a pipedream. Lately though, I find my life has been too hectic to take time to write, which is very unfortunate. I hope I am able to get everything together so that I am able to continue strongly in this course, and with my writing in general.

Found Poem: Left In The Cold

Left In The Cold

I’m trying to manoeuvre,
Trying to survive
In a cold-hearted world.
I’m lost,
And it isn’t very subtle.
It’s obvious that I can’t decide where to go.
I once was a person who could find himself,
But lately, I’ve seemed strangely muted.
I need to be rescued from the sounds of silence.



Words acquired from The Review and The New York Times.

Journal Entry #13: "Writing As A Lifestyle"

Journal Entry #13: "Writing As A Lifestyle"

I heard Philip Roth being interviewed yesterday. He is a Pulitzer Prize winning novelist and very successful writer now in his late 70's. Interestingly, when asked if he had his life to live over again whether he would choose to write again, he said he would not.

Writing, he explained, is a monumentally difficult task. It is a profession in which no one can help you. According to Roth, you have to reach deep inside yourself in order to pull out a novel and the beginning can be monumentally frustrating. He described the first six months of writing a novel as a matter of trying to assemble something substantial out of fragments. And when you are finished, he continued, you have to start over again with nothing. He also discussed the very solitary nature of the work. Writers spend a great deal of time alone. Many live in poverty before they get their start.

On the other hand there are many attractive dimensions to the job. Successful writers become very well known (Dan Brown once boarded a plane having left behind his driver's license when the man behind him in line was able to show the security guard Brown's author photo in The Da Vinci Code). They appear on television and the radio. They travel and set their own work schedules. They get to meet and socialize with other famous and influential people.

What do you think about the writer's lifestyle? How much of it appeals to you? Which aspects least appeal to you? Can you envision yourself doing the job? Describe how writing might either fit into your lifestyle or become your lifestyle in the future.

The writer’s lifestyle is indeed a unique and interesting one. It is certainly one that would not appeal to everyone, for a variety of reasons. Like what was stated above, writing can be an extremely difficult task, and not everyone is cut out for it. People will get an idea in their head, and decide "I could write a book about that," then get 30 pages in, and come to the harsh realization of "I can’t write a book about that." It requires a lot of passion and determination, as writing has the potential to be one of the most frustrating experiences one will ever have to deal with. "Writer’s block," be it real or just an "urban myth," is beyond aggravating at times. On the other hand, writing could become extremely beneficial, such as the previously mentioned case of Dan Brown, who is both well-known (though not by me until now, I must confess), and no doubt excessively wealthy.

I think the writer’s lifestyle is a great lifestyle, and one that would appeal to me very much. I just like the idea of creating something that is entirely unique and my own. It would be great, having that free flow of ideas and actually being able to craft something remarkable out of it. I also don’t mind spending long periods of time in a rather solitary nature, a trait I’ve discovered in myself which is gradually become a larger part of my life (not to say I’m becoming anti-social by any means).

However, with the aspects that appeal to me about this lifestyle, there are also aspects that are slightly less appealing to me. The first is more of a personal flaw rather than a flaw in the lifestyle itself. In my (limited) writing experience, I have discovered that my perfectionist qualities tend to shine through. In every piece of free written poetry that I’ve submitted for this class (sonnets included) is some sort of flaw I’ve found in it, something I’m dissatisfied with. However, due to sheer inability to improve upon them, I will include them to my dismay, as I rarely omit lines. I view that as a potential downfall of me as an author. It would be extremely irritating to not be entirely satisfied with anything I’ve written, constantly having to improve upon it. While that would ultimately lead to a better finished product, I imagine I would just never be entirely satisfied. How would I be able to submit a book for potential publishing if I find flaws every few pages? This is a trait I hope I am able to come to terms with. In addition to this, my mind is always working, and coming up with new ideas. I find that I try to include all of these ideas in my writing, which can sometimes distract from what I’m trying to say.

One key unappealing aspect of being a writer is how well known these authors truly become as people. I find that most authors aren’t known, their books are. I didn’t know who Dan Brown was, yet I knew what The Da Vinci Code was. This is the case with many books, as I could name dozens of books, yet only a few authors. I don’t like the idea of not being known for what I’ve done, though that may sound selfish. Also, not to sound greedy, but in most cases, the lifestyle is very unrewarding financially. An author is a drop in the ocean, a face in the crowd. There are thousands like them, with similar ideas, and most only achieve minor success. How am I supposed to stand out enough to actually make a living off of this, when I’m just a drop in the ocean? I’m also very dissatisfied with the idea of not having a popular book, purely because I would have put so much effort into the book, only to have few people read it. That being said, by no means would I write strictly to be remembered, or to get famous. I would write because I want to. But it's like talking in a crowded room, you feel like no one hears what you have to say.

With all that negativity being said, it would seem that I do not want to be an author. Yet, in all honesty, I can still envision myself doing this job, though it would likely be forced to find it’s own place in my life. I feel that I would not be able to support myself enough financially to have it consume my life entirely, though I would try to make it as big of a part of my life as possible. I am determined to write a novel in my life, and while it would be great to be able to write it (and other things) and live off the profits of what I’ve written, I can’t see it happening. But who am I to predict the future? Anything is possible.

Journal Entry #12: Free Write

Journal Entry #12: "It Ain't Nothin' But Music"

Write about a topic of your choice.

If you’ve ever seen me before, you’ve probably seen a pair of headphones in my ears. If you’ve ever spent an extended period of time with me, you’ve probably noticed that those headphones stayed in my ears the entire time. I love music. It’s become a huge aspect of the person I am. I figured, since I spend so much of my time listening to it, I could probably spend around 500 words talking about it.

I first started listening to music in grade 7. I mostly listened to rock music that I’d heard in video games, which I find hilarious now. My first favourite band was Simple Plan, and I don’t really know why, considering I can’t stand listening to those songs now. Again, hilarious. Anyway, in grade 8, my entire musical preference changed drastically when my friend told me to listen to a metal song he had on his mp3 player. It was Hand of Blood by Bullet For My Valentine, and I still remember how awesome I thought it was. From then on, Bullet For My Valentine became my first favourite band, and I started listening to several bands like them. Over the years, my "favourite band" has changed frequently, as I’ve come to appreciate and enjoy practically every genre of music. I have 2386 songs on my iPod at this moment, with 30 new ones being added within the last 2 weeks. My most listened to song has been played over 500 times, with another being played almost 500 times, and others over 300 times, etc. I’m sure some of those plays can be attributed to forgetting to turn off my computer and/or iPod on numerous occasions, but the numbers don’t lie, the songs have been played that many times.

I don’t know what it is that draws me so much to music. I don’t really have an explanation for it, I just like it. Maybe it’s that I have songs that can cheer me up, or songs that can make me feel bad, and can really add to however I feel. Maybe it’s that there are songs that remind me of certain things. I remember a few weeks ago, you mentioned how poetry can make you feel a certain way when you read a certain line. That certain line can resurrect the feelings you felt when you wrote it. I understand what you mean exactly, because some songs have that effect on me. I may not have written it, but hearing a certain song can instantly bring back feelings from a certain time I’d listened to the song. For example, music by The Ataris always reminds me of summer, and gives me an indescribable feeling, one that I remember feeling during summer, while music by The Almost reminds me of my vacations to Sauble Beach, and can make me feel very content and at ease. That’s just two examples, and I have about 400 bands on my computer, and I’m sure at least half of them I associate with something.

This semester, we’ve all written poetry, and I’m sure that it has some sort of significance to most of us, just like I’m sure it does to everyone who writes a song. I think music is a great way to capture emotion. I wish I’d learned how to play an instrument, or was able to sing (sing well, I mean, ha ha!) so that I could play music. There’s just something about adding a musical aspect behind most words that makes them so much more amazing in my opinion. I’m not saying that Robert Frost poetry would go great with "a groovy bass line," nor am I saying that the only thing the poetry of Edgar Allen Poe is missing is "a sick guitar riff." I’m saying that songs sound better when they are heard, rather than read.

Back to the topic of "certain lines" from a few sentences ago, what I really like is finding a song with lyrics that are clearly heartfelt. I’m sure nearly anyone that reads this would be able to recite some line from a song that they find very emotionally touching. Personally, my favourite lyricist is Kristopher Roe, from my favourite band, The Ataris. One of the highlights of my short life is getting to meet him last summer, and actually getting to have a conversation with him, though I still regret not getting him to autograph the merchandise I bought! It really turned The Ataris into my favourite band, and I listened to them daily for the entire summer, they practically became the only band I listened to! I find what he writes to be spectacular, as he gets his point across very effectively, without being packed full of metaphors, or coming off as particularly "life sucks"-esque. One of my favourite lyrics by the band that come to mind are from "When All Else Fails, It Fails," "The demand to be loved is the greatest arrogance, and I can never make you love me again. And when all else fails, it fails. Did I fail you? Will you fail me too? Because there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do to hold on to you, but you give me nothing to hold on to. And maybe it’s too late to keep the one I love from giving up." That may just pass as another line in a song to some people, but it really stands out to me. I guess what is considered "good" music is all a matter of perception.

All opinion aside, the fact remains that it’s 1:40am, so I’ll finish on that note (no pun intended, seriously.). I’ll take a wild guess, and say that I’ve written over 500 words, if not twice that. I guess it’s extremely easy to write about something you really enjoy.

Dramatic Monologue: Victim Fourteen

Victim Fourteen

You must believe this wasn’t my intent
But at this point, it’s useless to repent
And although to most I’ve remained unseen,
Right now, I’m murdering victim fourteen.

I’ll tell you why I committed my first
‘Cause by no means could I call that my worst
No, that one was tame, compared to the rest
‘Cause now even butchers would be impressed
With the way I slaughter each one of them
But if others knew, they'd no doubt condemn

Well, it all began a few months ago
I had a big house and a wife, you know
Until my wife exposed my deepest fears
What she said brought me to the point of tears

She loved me no more, that’s the end of it
I wanted to talk, she wouldn’t have it
After she said that, I started grieving
But she wouldn’t listen, she was leaving
I knew deep down, I could never leave her
I left the room, and grabbed the meat cleaver
Snuck up behind her, went in for the kill
If I can’t have you darling, no one will.

I drove to the park to dump the body
And just my luck that somebody saw me
So I had to kill that poor woman too
Sad, but what did you expect me to do?
I buried them both that very same night
Got back in my car, and vanished from sight.

From that moment on, my mental state changed
I became more than a little deranged
There’s something I like about spilling blood
I spill the equivalent of a flood

I seemed upset at the loss of my wife
So no one would suspect I took her life
They couldn’t have guessed what I had in store
That I was going to kill many more.

After a few weeks, I got my third kill
I almost forgot the feeling, the thrill
In the next few months, I killed seven more
And buried them all underneath my floor
Then I murdered three, all on the same day
They kicked, and they screamed, but none got away.

The cops say all my victims had brown hair
I hadn’t noticed, it’s not like I care.
They say I’m a psychopathic killer
And have given me the name “The Thriller”

The chief vows to catch me, and he just might
One thing’s for sure, he won’t catch me tonight.
But until that day comes, I’ll stay quite keen
To finish my work on victim fourteen.

Lyric Poem: Fact Turned Fiction

Fact Turned Fiction

I’ve never walked on a wire,
But I’ve been left hanging by a thread.
And my only problem is,
That I don’t know where to stop, or where to begin.

It’s all so clear in my head,
But what’s that saying?
My head feels like some sort of hell, hosting a house of horrors,
While I’m just a helpless hypochondriac, held in a hospital.
Anyway, all ailments aside,
I feel I’ve found few facts fit for further alliteration.
Than this small set of facts,
Of fact turned fiction.

It’s moment of truth, to those choking on lies.
It’s the moment in death where it all comes alive.
It’s a glance, turned a look, turned a smile, turned a kiss,
Turned a touch, turned a word, turned a lie, turned a miss.
Turned a stab, a stab straight to the heart.
But one cut is all it takes.

I expire, holding the wound,
Oh so tightly

Holding my breath, until my lungs wither to dust.
When I know full well that I’ve wasted my time,
As I’m wasting away.

All the things left unsaid, I'm rehearsing them.
And I can’t keep blotting them out,
Like ink spilled on paper.

I made an attempt,
The best I ever could,
To keep it all together,
As everything fell apart.
It’s hard to say you tried,
When you can’t look me in the eyes.
As these memories grow vague,
As too little turns too late.

As I'm left to dream forever,

Solely for my own sake.

Oh, my epidemic,
My favourite terminal disease,
I'm infected.
I wish this was my fault.
All these nights, without your presence,
I’m not comfortable in my skin.
Now, in your absence, I tremble.
Without the comforting warmth of that radiant glow,

The one that used to shine in your eyes,
I’m left to freeze in the cold.
And I desperately need to be warm.

These days, I can’t believe my eyes, let alone my mind.

Amidst an ocean of thought, the same thought emerges..
The past, what was left behind, in those nights,
Every night, I crumble to the ground,
With no foundation left to support this structure.

Believe I tried.

We’ve reached the end of the road,
And now there’s nowhere left to go.

Imitation Poem: Monster Monster

For my imitation poem, I chose to imitate Stopping By Woods on A Snowy Evening by Robert Frost.

Stopping By Woods on A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

For my imitation, I wrote a poem called Monster Monster. It's about a boy who thinks there's a monster under his bed.

Monster Monster

Beneath the light of the moon’s glow,
These midnight shadows creep in slow.
Creaking sounds sneak into my ear.
I think a monster hides below.

Beneath my bed, I know it’s here.
I feel it slowly coming near.
And now my chest begins to ache,
Because my heart is full of fear.

My sweating hands begin to shake,
As if I’m a human earthquake.
Though I refuse to make a peep,
My life, this beast is sure to take.

Although I still have yet to weep,
This monster continues to keep,
This little soul from counting sheep.
And so I cannot fall asleep.

Journal Entry #11: "Childhood"

Journal Entry #11: "Childhood"

As your Children's Story writing draws to a close, consider that people haven't always felt the same way about children as we do now. The idea that childhood is a special time and that a child's innocence should be protected largely originated with the Victorians. Before that, children were sent to work in factories as soon as they were old enough, often working 10 hour days at the age of 7 or 8. Chimney Sweeps used to employ even younger children since they could be dangled from a rope and used to knock soot and highly carcinogenic coal dust out of chimneys. By the time these young people reached the ripe old age of 15 or 16 they were adults for all intents and purposes.

Now, as a society, we have reached a point where we try to insulate children from the more unpleasant and labourious aspects of life but we have also delayed adulthood for many. Some "children" (perhaps you know some?) continue to live in their parents' basements until their late twenties. What do you think? How much (and from what) should children be protected? How well are we handling this issue now as a society? What kind of childhood will you try to create for your own offspring? What expectations will you have? What are some of the most valuable experiences and lessons from your own childhood that you will try to pass on to the next generation?

It’s true that children are viewed differently from the way they were before the Victorian Era, very differently. Back then, children could be hanged, and, like you said, forced to do dangerous and potentially fatal jobs. Some were orphaned and forced to live on the street, begging for money just to get by. This could lead to children dying, and, if they were lucky enough to survive, they would be hardened people. But now things are much different. We have orphanages, child labour laws, and even channel blocks on television, all to keep children safe from just about everything. Now some parents smother their children, and treat them like they’re years younger than they really are. This gives society "children" who are in their late twenties, and even early thirties. They don’t feel independent enough to leave home, or they just don’t have the urge to leave. Meanwhile, their friends are getting married and starting families.

This makes me wonder, is all this protection really a bit much? I’m not entirely sure, because this doesn’t apply to everyone. Some people still live with their parents when they’re older, but, on the other hand, some move out when they’re 16. I find that "children" are acting less and less like children as time goes on. They’re drinking and doing drugs at younger ages (not to mention other things), and things done to protect them seem to be doing less and less. I think children should be protected from things such as sex and drug use, but all it takes is one child to ruin the ones around them. No matter what people do to try to keep children safe, they’ll still be exposed to this negativity in some way. It’s just always there. I think that while we as a society try to keep our children safe from it, there is just no way we can do an effective job without over-nurturing and turning our children into those 30-year-olds who still live at home. It’s hard to find a balance.

I think about what kind of parent I’d like to be. Part of me wants to be a laidback parent, that "cool dad." The problem with that is that my children are likely to get into bad things at a young age due to a lack of boundaries. I just wouldn’t want to be an overly strict parent, one who doesn’t let their kid do anything, out of fear that they may get into these bad things. I’d want to be like my parents, they’re realistic. They’re strict at times, but let me enjoy myself. They’ll let me go to parties, and stay out late with friends. Most of my friends are extremely surprised at how laid back my parents are about them coming over. My parents will be strict at times though, which keeps me in line, for lack of a better term. That’s the kind of parent I’d like to be, one who’s able to find a balance.

Since I’d be giving them so much freedom, I’d expect my children to be responsible, and not make me regret my decision to let them go out. If you go to a party, don’t do drugs, don’t smoke, and don’t drink to the point that the only thing you remember is throwing up your dinner in someone’s bathtub. There aren’t many experiences I could use as examples for my children. I’ve just learned to be responsible through mistakes I’ve made, and want to try to pass that on to my children. But at the same time, I feel children should learn on their own from their mistakes, like I did. I’d want to help my children forge their own path in life, just as long as it doesn’t lead to my basement!

Sonnets

Here is the link to the sonnets:
http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AXJLtc59flDHZGRxejhjcjRfNzFjN3MzZm1oaw&hl=en

There are 3 written, I'd say mark the one you think is best.

Journal Entry #10: "What Is Poetry? (Your Turn)"

Journal #10: "What Is Poetry? (Your Turn)"

Reflect upon your past experience with poetry, as well as your idea of what poetry is. How useful, in your opinion, is the study of poetry? How open minded are you about our study of poetry?

In the past, I haven’t been a fan of poetry. I remember hating it in elementary school, and dreading writing any. Regardless, I still managed to win the English Proficiency Award at my grade 8 graduation. Actually, my teacher told me that it was the quality of the poetry project I had done a few weeks earlier that had won it for me. That may have been a turning point for me, because even though I didn’t like it, I was apparently good at it, even if it was just simple limericks and haikus back then. Since I’ve entered high school though, I’ve become much fonder of it, likely because I’ve become more interested in writing, and though I don’t write any poetry, I’m not biassed towards it.

I view poetry as a few things. It could be a literary expression of one’s feelings, or simply something discussing a topic or telling a story in a way that can be regarded as aesthetically appealing. It could be almost anything, it depends on the writer’s opinion of whether or not it’s poetry. It is what you make it.

The study of poetry is important depending on what you want to do in life. Obviously some people will never need to study poetry, or find it necessary to do so. Others, however, will find it very useful to study poetry. In my opinion, I think it is useful, considering it has been a part of our society for thousands of years. I feel we should at least study the basic forms of poetry and most well known poems.

As for studying poetry myself, I’m very open minded towards it. I’d love to improve my poetry writing skills. I think that improving my poetry writing skills will also improve my general writing skills, and will help make me a better writer. When I write a poem, I’m usually able to write a few lines easily, but I find that I have a harder time creating longer poems. That’s something I hope I am able to change over the course of this unit. Regardless, I’m going to put my best effort into all the poetry I submit.

Journal Entry #9: "Lockdown"

Journal Entry #9: "Lockdown"

The world is a different place than it was prior to the shootings in Montreal, Columbine, and any number of other places. How much do you pay attention to violent issues in the media? How safe do you feel in school? What suggestions do you have for finding our way (as a society) to a more peaceful state? Do you have any thoughts, comments, opinions or suggestions about how the situation at Stamford on October 14, 2009 was handled?

The world is changing, and not in a good way. People admit to torturing for information. People go to see movies focussing on slaughtering people, like Hostel. People are going around, beating other people to death with hammers in the Ukraine. Students are being shot by other students in schools. I’m not one to read the paper, or watch the news, but obviously I will hear about events that are as substantial as Virginia Tech when they appear on the news.

Even though all this exists in the world, I feel pretty safe in my school. Maybe it’s because all these things happen elsewhere, but to be honest, I just feel safe, and I’m not sure why. I think it’s that when we’re young we feel invincible, so it’s almost like "that would never happen to me." Then again, I’m sure that’s what the victims of these things said too. It must have been unreal for the victims of the Virginia Tech, Columbine, and Montreal massacres. It may be because of these events that I feel safer, simply because schools are much more cautious now, and take threats more seriously. They look for signs of behaviour that could lead to events like this, to make sure they don’t happen.

As much as I think about it, I don’t think there is really much I could suggest to make us a more peaceful society. I can’t tell all these people who are in gangs to stop killing each other. I can’t tell countries to stop going to war. People need to learn that violence isn’t the only answer, that there’s more rational ways to handle situations. That being said, I think the situation on October 14 was handled very well. They stayed very relaxed about the situation so that we didn’t panic, and just told us to lock our doors. They didn’t tell us about what had happened until after it was over, again, to make sure that we didn’t panic. Staff also came around to each class in order to make sure that any questions we had about it were answered. I found it kind of aggravating that they didn’t tell us immediately what was going on, but that’s just the way I am. But I can completely understand why they weren’t open about the topic immediately, with all these grade 9's who have just started high school. I don’t think they could have handled the situation any better.

Journal Entry #8: Free Write

Journal Entry #8: "Alright, Then How About This . . ."

Write about a topic of your choice.

There's an idea I've had in my head since I began taking this course. I imagine I could use it as some sort of assignment for class. It’s fairly patchy at this point, that is to say, I know a lot of what I’m going to write, but I’m just not sure how it all connects together. I have rough outlines for most of it though. As for a title, I’m not so sure at this point.

The story is basically two stories wound together. It’s hard to explain, but the first story is the story within the story. It is written by an unknown source and is contained on a variety of things, sometimes a piece of paper, sometimes an envelope, sometimes a photograph, sometimes a postage stamp. Some are labelled numerically, but others are not. It tells the story of a family who has decided to . . . do something to their house, somehow alter it. Maybe redo a room, or knock down a wall. But their actions trigger some sort of event within the house, and weird occurrences begin to plague the family. Doors appear that lead nowhere, they hear voices, and see shadows out of the corner of their eye. One night the husband wakes up to see a shadow on the wall, which slowly drifts into the basement, where there is a door that wasn’t there before. The shadow disappears under the door, and the husband opens it. He finds that it leads to another hallway, unlike the rest of the doorways. This hallway leads to a series of rooms, and it becomes similar to a maze. The husband goes in, and explores for a few minutes. When he turns back to leave, he finds that there is no exit, but that another hallway has appeared. He keeps travelling and eventually gets lost, while the maze continues to change. His family wakes up the next day to find that he is gone, and try to make sense of what has happened. That’s kind of a blank outline which seems fairly generic right now, and that’s because I’m not entirely sure where I want to go with that story. I’ve put a lot more focus on the other story, as that's what I feel will be the better written of the two.

The other story is told mostly through journal entries. I think I may have it as the character is now in a mental institution, and this story is shown more for psychological examination. The character is the one who found the story, and tries to put it back together. While he is doing this, he talks about his life, and what’s going on in it. This includes his relationships, his family life, and possibly drug use. As he puts the story together, he begins to lose touch with the world around him, and hallucinate. This is a combination of his life outside of the story, the effects of the story itself . He begins to stay inside, eventually losing track of time as he works on putting the story back together, choosing to try to ignore his life as it gets more and more hectic. I’m not sure if I’ll have him finish the story, or have something intervene which keeps him from doing so.

The extra aspect of the story I want to put focus on is the unconventional style I want to write it in. The stories are told together, with one stopping at a certain part for the other one to pick up again. There will also be commentary told through notes on different pages. In other words, there will be a line like this [1]
[1] and a person’s corresponding commentary on the line in a different section. I’m not sure if I’m going to have the notes told by the character, or by someone working at the mental institution. I think I will have both, so that some of it will be from a first person perspective, and other parts of it will be examined from a psychological standpoint. I'll usually have the two stories connecting through these points, as one aspect of one story has a similarity to an aspect of the other. I also want to have a few parts that are written instead of typed, to make it seem like some parts were written quickly, or in a certain state. I’m going to add in a few drawings, as well as quotes and poetry which relates to what is going on in the story at the time. I may just have this all bunched up at the end, as it doesn’t directly apply to the story. I want to put a lot of focus on how the stories are written and what side notes go along with them. The only problem is that I don’t know how long this story would be. I imagine it would be around 40 pages, if not more.

That’s about it from me right now. I just figured I’d tell you about that, and see what you think. If you have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to share! I'd love to be able to write this as some sort of assignment for this class.

Journal Entry #7: "The Best When"

Journal Entry #7: "The Best When"

Assuming for a moment that you could transport anyone you wanted, where and when would you live? No society that you know even a little about is off limits. You might want to consider quality of life, societal expectations of men and women, health, access to education, and recreation. Enjoy!

When I first thought about where I would go, I thought I should go back about 100 years, and change the course of current history. I could prevent assassinations, wars, and serious violent occurrences. I could even witness events such as Woodstock. But when I think about it, how could I do any of this? If I were to go around town saying "President Kennedy is going to be assassinated!" or "Keep an eye on that Hitler, I’ve got a bad feeling about that guy." I’d probably be pegged as some sort of lunatic. I can’t see anybody believing a 17-year old who says such things. Wouldn’t it be amazing if they did though?

Next I thought of going back to some ancient times. I took 16th Century History last year, so I have at least some knowledge of several civilizations. I would love to see the gladiators fight in the Roman Colosseum, witness the ancient pyramids of Egypt as they’re being built, or admire the Hanging Gardens of Babyon. But then I realize that I would have to live in these places, and I don’t think I could do that. Coming from such a technologically advanced time and going to one that is so inferior by comparison would be extremely difficult. Plus I wouldn’t have the money necessary to live in a decent way. I would probably end up as some sort of a slave or servant if I went to any of these times. In Roman times, that would mean I’m the Colosseum entertainment, and I’m not built to be a gladiator!

If I were given the opportunity to travel back in time, I think I would do something extremely boring by comparison. I would go back a few decades, maybe 30 or 40 years. I could use my knowledge of things now to really benefit myself. That sounds extremely selfish, but oh well. I could invest in Microsoft, and a variety of other companies. I’d set up some sort of bank account with that money for future (current) me to use, assuming I could transport back. I’d also meet my grandpa, considering he died 4 months before I was born. I heard he was a great man. I also think it would be cool to meet my parents back when they were my age and spend some time with them. Microsoft was founded about the same time as when my parents were my age, so that’s killing two birds with one stone. I really thought that this would have come off as more interesting of a response, considering I talked about so many interesting possibilities sooner. Oh well. Sometimes the simplest things are the best.

On a side note, I apologize for the lateness of my journal entries. I don’t really have an excuse for it, but honesty is the best policy, right? I will have entry 8 in for tomorrow.

"Alright, Then How About This . . ."

Journal Entry #6: "Technology: The Myth"

Journal Entry #6: "Technology: The Myth"

One of the great myths of modern times is the idea that new technologies improve a person’s quality of life. Yet no one has ever demonstrated that access to computers increases a person’s literacy or numeracy skills. Likewise, futurists in the 50's predicted we would be enjoying a 3-day work week by now since machines would be doing all the manual labour. What do you think? Is your life better now than it would have been 100 years ago because of technology?

There is no doubt that technology has had a huge effect on almost every society worldwide. However it’s hard to tell whether or not this is a positive or negative effect. It certainly makes things easier. While we may not have a 3-day work week, we have machines that can do several forms of labour. We have been to space, and have robots that can walk, run, and detect if we’re happy. We are able to communicate with people anywhere in the world through a device in the palm of our hands, and can have thousands of songs at the touch of a button. We can even watch events live as they unfold from thousands of miles away.

But are all these really necessary to make life better? I don’t really know. I’ll kind of battle it out in this journal. Humans are fully capable of doing this labour, and we would have more jobs if they did. There is no necessity for robots that are able to accomplish a single thing, like walking or running, or detecting whether or not we are happy. We don’t need to know about events that are going on around the world if they don’t concern us, and as nice as it is to be able to have luxuries at our fingertips, we don’t need them. On the other hand, thanks to technology, we are able to treat diseases such as cancer, and have cured many other diseases which, in the past have claimed the lives of countless people. I think that, in this sense, technology is improving our lives.

Still, I’m on the fence on this topic. Because I have knowledge of life now, and have read about life 100 years ago, it seems like life now would be better now, simply because there is more to do, and things are easier. Yet some of us have become slaves to technology, such as computers, television and our cell phones, myself included. Most people are surprised when they don’t see my headphones in my ears. One step forward, two steps back I suppose. I’m still on the fence. But thinking about other things, such as cars, I can see why this would be up for debate. Things like automobiles make our time what it is. While we can still walk places, the automobile makes it easier. That’s what technology is, a way to make things easier. We could walk places, but we’d rather drive. We can solve long math equations by writing them down, but we use calculators. We can sharpen a pencil with a manual pencil sharpener, but we use the electric ones. (I could use better examples, yet I choose to look around the room for examples, rather than get up and look, because it’s easier. See!? Technology such as the computer makes us so lazy!)

I’m not really answering the question at hand now, am I? I’ve actually gotten quite sidetracked by things going on elsewhere on my computer screen. None of it is actually important stuff either. This is leading me to believe that technology serves as a distraction. However, I think it may actually be increasing my literary skills, considering I’m constantly reading or typing on the screen. Other than that, and children’s phonics toys, most technology doesn’t really help us improve any of our skills, because it’s simply making things easier for us. It’s like a teacher who tells you the answer, but doesn’t tell you they got it. It’s like Mr. Fraser.

100 years ago, people were content with their lives, and likely the quality as well. However, they did not live in a time like now, and have to reflect on this topic. So, I think I’m coming from a fairly biased view, since I think my life is better because of technology. This is more because, while I can live without it, I love technology and I use it during nearly every waking hour. I’m typing this journal on the computer right now, and when I think of society 100 years ago, I perceive something primitive. I'm not the kind of guy who's built to live a primitive lifestyle. If I were to come from a non biased view, I would say my life is not better because of technology, because we're at a point where we seem to rely on it. However, I am going to have to say that my life is better because of it. I just hope we never reach a point like The Jetsons, where we take everything for granted. "Oh, you want to go to Jupiter for some stupid . . . space dance . . . thing? Sure, just jump in our human sized space-pod, which doubles as a briefcase, and fly there, fly to Jupiter. It should only take about 20 minutes." Ridiculous. Imagine if we took crap like that for granted like we do the things we have now? I hope that time doesn’t come in my lifetime, because then I’ll truly know that my life would be better the way it is right now.

Journal Entry #5: "The Irony of Education"

Journal Entry #5: "The Irony of Education"

Why is it that in North America, we (as a society) seem to take education for granted? In other countries, students will take any opportunity they can get to improve themselves.

The way we in North America treat education is very different from most of the world. In other countries, children do not have many opportunities to get an education, so they will be very eager to take advantage of one if they are given it. We on the other hand have gone to school for over a decade and I think that it has become more of an inconvenience, for lack of a better word. We as students dread when the weekend is over, and love Fridays because it means the beginning of the weekend. Students will skip classes to go hang out in the smoke pit, and take unnecessary days off just to avoid going to school. Students who come here from other countries usually (at the risk of reinforcing a stereotype) achieve very good grades. This is because they realize what an amazing opportunity they are receiving, the same one we are taking for granted.

I think that we have taken education for granted because it is so readily available to us. We are told we have to go to school, and that we have to go five days a week, while people in other countries may not go to school at all. Many of us in North America are able to get a job very easily, and although they may not be the best jobs, they give us the money we need. Other countries, such as Africa (again, unfortunately at the risk of offending and reinforcing a stereotype) do not have many available jobs. People do not have a way to earn money to provide for their family (It is extremely difficult to say this and not come off as ignorant). I’m sure these people would love the opportunity to get an education, and be able to get a great job because of it.

The same thing could be said about many things we have. We throw away food when we’re full, while those in other countries starve to death. We turn up the heat in our house if we are too cold, while there are people who have no home at all. We should learn to stop taking what we have for granted, because there are millions of people who would love to have the opportunities we are given everyday.

Journal Entry #4: Free Write

Journal Entry #4: "An Introduction"

Write about a topic of your choice.

For my first free write topic, I figured I would introduce myself. Hello. I’m Matthew George Brockwell. Ha ha . . . maybe I should be a little less formal, considering you already know my name. Anyway, let’s get into some detail, shall we?

I’m 17 years old, although I’m told I look about 15 years old. I’m deceptively smart, considering most people seem to consider me a slacker. I’m not too sure whether or not I like this label. I’m not even sure if it’s accurate, considering I get high 80's in most, if not all of my classes. I just have initiative problems. That’s not to say I’m unable to get anything done, I just can’t find the drive to get work done. I find that I’m able to produce high quality work though. In fact, my sociology teacher thought I had plagiarized an assignment because of the words I used. I’m told I have an extensive vocabulary (although the people who tell me say "You use a lot of big words."). I also write in full sentences and use proper grammar and punctuation when I instant message, or text. I’ve just gotten used to it. It bothers me to see an "im" or a "wat r u up 2."

I live with my mom, dad, and sister. My sister is in grade 9 now, and I must say it’s strange seeing my little sister in the halls. I find it funny that when she asks me something about Stamford, she still refers to it as "your school." My dad is a teacher at Westlane, gross I know. He’s taught Anthropology, Sociology and Psychology, parenting, history, and English. What he teaches changes each year, but this semester he teaches Grade 11 and 12 Anth, Soc, Psych, and Grade 10 history. His grade 12 class must be interesting because he teaches both my best friend and my ex-girlfriend. Fun stuff! My mom is amazing. I have such a strong bond with her. In 2002, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was a very hard time for our family, but we got through it. She has had some recurrences, but these have all been treated, and I look forward to spending time with her for years to come. I couldn’t go without mentioning my dog, Paige. Paige is a Coton de Tulear. You’re probably thinking "What the hell is that?," and . . . well, I suggest looking it up.

As far as my personality goes, I’d say I’m a pretty laid back kind of guy. I try my best to be a nice guy, but lately I’ve been told I’m getting "emotionally distant." I’m not sure how to take that, considering I hadn’t noticed. It’s a matter of perception I suppose. I consider myself a happy person, and try to let that show, although I’m aware that I may come off as a pessimistic person. I have a very outgoing personality, and I get comfortable around people very easily. I’m sure you’ll find that I’ll be one of the most talkative ones in the class. I tend to have some sort of funny, witty remark to say. I’m extremely sarcastic, but I’m a really open guy. I have a lot of friends who confide in me. I’m glad I can be trusted, it’s a good feeling. I have trouble sleeping because I can’t get my mind to stop working. Because of that, I usually stay up until about 3 in the morning. I’m surprised I’m able to function properly.

I really like to write. Well, obviously, I took this course after all. I write a lot of lyrics, and my friend’s band is making a few songs out of them, so that’s kind of cool. I listen to a lot of music. I’m listening to it right now. I listen to pretty much every genre, I’d have to in order to have the 2304 songs I currently have. It’s a big part of my life. For the amount I write, you’d think I’d read more, but I really don’t. I don’t remember the last book I read. I should really try to broaden my horizons, literature-wise.

I think that will suffice as a journal entry, considering it’s 11:54pm. It’s great to have the opportunity to tell a bit about myself, and I hope you are able to get to know more about me through my writing.

Journal Entry #3: "The Pen is Mightier Than The Sword"

Journal #3: "The Pen is Mightier Than The Sword"

Writers have an extraordinary potential to change people’s minds and to create revolutions. Reflect upon some of the radical changes that have been wrought by such texts as The Declaration of Independence, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and The Communist Manifesto. What issues or topics are you interested in exploring in your writing? What changes do you feel are worth making?

Over the years, there have been many radical authors who have written about controversial topics. For example, "Uncle Tom’s Cabin" was extremely controversial at the time of its release, as it was anti-slavery in the times of slavery. "The Declaration of Independence" is another example of an influential text, as it declared the 13 American colonies as states which were independent of the British Empire, and essentially founded the United States as an independent nation. In another political sense, "The Communist Manifesto" was an extremely influential text which explained the purpose and ideas of the Communist party, and helped the party gain recognition.

I’m interested in many topics, but I find there are few that I am actually able to write about passionately. I wouldn’t be able to make another "Uncle Tom’s Cabin." I’m mostly interested in writing fiction with no real underlying message. This is likely because I’m more of a go-with-the-flow kind of person. For example, I know the war in Iraq is going on, and I know that people are both for and against it. I don’t really have an opinion on it. I could support either side. There is just nothing important going on that I’m passionate enough about to actually write about.

However, there are changes in the world that I feel are worth making. There are starving people all over the world, while we in North America throw food away. People are doing terrible things to one another. There is a video on the internet of a man being murdered by a hammer and a screwdriver. If I could do something to fix these things, I would, I just don’t think there is anything I could do to change them.


On a side note, my journals are coming off as fairly pessimistic, ha ha ha. I should at least act like I believe I could change the world, or be an astronaut, or become famous. Jeez.

Journal Entry #2: "What Will You Leave Behind?"

Journal Entry #2: "What Will You Leave Behind?"

Why wait? It’s time to think about what you will leave behind after your time on the "third" rock from the sun is finished. Some people manage to leave a great deal of wealth or a legacy of public service. Others are long remembered for their monumental works of art. A lucky few are long cherished by adoring family and friends. How do you want to be remembered? What will be your reason for being?

I’ve never really thought about what I will leave behind after I die. I’m not entirely sure. There are so many people who have left things behind for which they are remembered. People who have been dead for decades, even centuries, are still studied today for their actions. Personally, I don’t think I will be one of those people. Maybe I’m a little pessimistic, but I don’t know too many people who still have that childhood ambition to be a movie star, or an astronaut. We have all adopted more attainable futures.

That being said, I think I will still be able to leave something behind for which I will be remembered. As it stands now, I would like to be a teacher when I’m older. This may be because my dad is a teacher at Westlane, and my grandfather was a teacher. I’m sure you could name many, if not all of your old teachers, some good, some bad. The point is, you remember them. I would like to be remembered as a good teacher. I have seen a lot of my dad’s former students from years before see him in public, say hi and talk about how great his classes were, and what they’re doing now. I was even out for a coffee the other day and ran into one of his students from last year, talking about how she loved his class, and what a great teacher he was. I would love to be remembered like that. And though my dad is years away from retiring, let alone dying, I doubt that he will be forgotten by these students.

There are other things I would love to be remembered for, such as writing a book. I love writing, and I think it would be great if I was ever able to write a really memorable novel. The problem with that is: how many authors are actually remembered? I know J. R. R. Tolkien, and of course ancient authors such as Homer, but I know few others by name, I only know their books. So I really can’t see this happening.

On a less pessimistic note, in the future I plan on getting married and starting a family. I hope I can be a great parent, grandparent, husband, uncle, and whatever else you can think of. I want to be able to live a happy life, and keep those around me happy. This, along with being remembered in my profession, is what I hope to do.

I may not be able to be that astronaut, or that movie star. I may not be able to write that memorable novel. However, that doesn’t bother me. I want to be remembered as a great person, who made a difference in the lives of those around me. I can’t think of anything more rewarding.

Journal Entry #1: "Write What You Know"

Journal Entry #1: "Write What You Know"

The first rule most writers learn is to write what you know. What do you know? What issues, topics, experiences, and genres do you feel comfortable tackling? What are some topics (etc.) you think you should avoid? What sort of research might you be interested in doing in order to write more effectively?

What do I know? That’s a good question. When it comes to writing, I would consider myself more or less a Jack of all trades. I find that I am able to write many different types of things fairly easily, though whether or not they are well written is up to you. However, the genre I feel most comfortable tackling is fiction. I find that I am easily able to come up with ideas if I am free to write fiction. That being said, I feel comfortable writing about most topics and do not feel like there is any topic I feel uncomfortable writing about, nor do I feel there is one I should necessarily avoid. If I want to become a better writer, I have to learn to write about a variety of topics, and constantly improve in doing so.

At times, I find it hard to get my ideas together, which makes it hard to start writing. However, once I start, I find that I am usually able to keep a continuous flow of ideas, although I still get writer’s block on occasion. As long as I know what I am supposed to be writing about, I should be able to produce good writing. However, I usually find that when I am free to write whatever I want, I am able to produce my best work. I would love to have an assignment where I am basically told "Write x number of pages about whatever you’d like. Tell a story, make a journal, do whatever you want." I could really take advantage of an assignment like that to write something that is very unique. I would be interested in researching the writing styles of various authors, in the hopes that I would be able to develop my own unique style of writing. I would also like to research popular books from various genres, and attempt to read a variety of different books, each with a different style of writing. I enjoy writing, and am really looking forward to this course.