Journal 5

Wait, what time is it? OH SNAP, I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUT OF HERE AN HOUR AGO! That's all I could remember thinking this morning as I quickly grabbed some eyeliner, my black casual dress, and high heel shoes and ran, well stumbled, outside of my apartment building this morning. Thank goodness that the bus got here right as I got out though, man, I might have a chance of getting to the business proposal on time, but I still don't know, it seems highly unlikely. I can't help but look around at everyone on this bus, envying them for actually being on time, wishing that I could feel the same amount of comfort that they're feeling right now. I mean, yeah I have a pretty good job and I'm sure that I do better than them at the end of the day, but still, I mean, after today, I could be out of this job anyways! Watch, as soon as I get out of here, I'm running, I don't care who's in my way.

The 104 bus just finished opening it's doors, and I was already bolting passed the old lady in the front. Screw manners, I'm a determined woman ready to kill to get to this damn meeting. I could only see the blurred images of people as I passed them trying to muscle my way into the train. "Stand clear of the closing doors please!" I hear the conductor yell as soon as I reach the door. Psh, no way is he getting the best of me, I'll beak these doors if I have to. 

After about a minute of struggling with the door, accompanied with the 'nice' comments from other people on the train, I finally got in. Dare I look at the time? 9:02 AM, which I guess isn't bad, I mean, I'm not too late, but I'm late, which still could do some damage to my chances at keeping this job. Oh well, I guess I'll just sit and wait...

Journal 6

"Hey honey, what's for dinner tonight, I'm startinggggg!!" Anna exclaimed, while twiddling her fingers and staring blankly at the shaggy green carpet beneath her feet.

" Umm, I don't know babe, I was thinking maybe we could get a salad from the deli or something..." Jim said, while glancing at her extra extra large shirt balled up next to the couch. "I think that a change would be nice, we're always eating so unhealthy, ya know?"

The television blasted the loud jingle of the famous Big Mac sandwich from McDonald's in the background, creating the allure of the greasy, fattening burger, causing Anna's mouth to water.

"How's about we get one of them?" Anna says with an excited smirk on her face while grabbing and shaking her husband.

"Umm, I'm not so sure" He says. "I think that we should try a salad, I heard that the new caesar dressing is delicious!"

"No! I want one of those, the patties look so yummy, and there's two of em!" She exclaims.

"I don't have enough money and it's way too far anyways, we'd have to take a cab and all that. No can do babe" He said while looking slightly toward the left side of her face, focusing his attention on the roll of fat where her dimples used to show.

"I got money!" She yells. "I'll pay!"

"No no, it's fine, I'm not hungry anyways, could you please just wait with me and maybe well go later?" He said with a sad undertone. "While we wait, let's do some sit ups, they're great fun!"

Reaction Paper 2 and 3

The topic of war is easily a more popular topic that both local, and well taut writers base short stories upon. Though many stories have been written, only few have been able to effectively portray the theme of the effects of war on the human mind throughout a story. An example of the successful and failed attempts are shown within the short stories An Episode of War, by Stephen Crane, and War, by Jason Austin, because though both authors use certain methods to display the theme, one author was more effective than the other
    Though both stories contain one character that the whole story revolves upon, one of the stories actually demonstrates the impact the war has had on him, while the other story failed to do so. In Stephen Crane’s short story, the protagonist, who is not given a name, clearly shows an overwhelming physiological breakdown while attempting to get help for the wound on his arm and when he finally returns home from combat, only to be seen as a completely different man. In the story by Jason Austin, the theme is not nearly as effectively portrayed as it was in the last story. Instead of describing character emotion, both through description and dialogue, the author chooses to solely tell the reader what action is occurring, and what the character is going through, making a valid connection between the reader and character virtually impossible, rendering them clueless to any change or effect that the war brought upon the character.
    As opposed to Austin, Crane was very effective in describing his protagonist, and his supporting characters, though they were not assigned a major role, to further intensify the feeling of emotional distress the reader experiences from the situation. He portrays the protagonist’s feelings particularly well when describing his facial expression during the examination of his wound, “He wore the look of one who knows he is the victim of a terrible disease and understands his helplessness.” (Crane, page 1) With a visual image put into the head of the reader, accompanied with an intensely described feeling of sorrow and pain, it is easy to relate with the pain of the character and see exactly what the war has done to him. Meanwhile, Austin wasn’t as creative with his approach, mainly focusing on solely on the action that the character was in, disregarding his feeling about what was occurring. Though both stories mentioned family and the effect that they had on the characters at war, the use of dialogue made the connection between the effect of the war and their family stronger, “When he reached home, his sisters, his mother, his wife sobbed for a long time at the sight of the flat sleeve. ‘Oh, well,’ he said, standing shamefaced amid these tears, ’don't suppose it matters so much as all that.’ “ showing the traumatic effect, not only on the main character, but on his family as well.
    Though both stories are different in their levels of applying its theme, nevertheless, each story contributed its own feeling and attitude. An Episode of War produced a more dramatic mood by describing the fear within the lieutenant’s men, and the dull, lifeless attitude of the lieutenant himself, while in War, though the character doesn’t express much feeling, there is still a feeling of intense, life threatening combat, mainly shown during the protagonist’s close call with the musket, and his eventual death or capture during his experience with a roadside bomb. Though both stories captured a strong feeling, the feeling within An Episode of War was more on point with supporting the theme.
    In conclusion, though the topic of war is an alluring subject for many short story writers, some writers are simply better at displaying a theme better than others. With the stories, An Episode of War, and War, there is a clear difference in which some writers are able to put forth a theme when describing a certain event. The writing style and themes may seem unconnected, but are actually intertwined within every story, no matter what them a writer is writing for.

Sudden Fiction Final Draft

All of a sudden I hear a muffled ring coming from my bottom right pocket right above my thigh, I hope it’s her. I unzip the leather zipper and quickly grab and flip up my phone to see who’s calling, and as I do so all I could hear is the screaming of a middle aged woman running toward her house, screaming something along the lines of, “he’s back!”. He’s back? What could that possibly mean?

            I look at the caller ID on my cell to see that it isn’t Tifa calling me at all; it’s actually Rufus, the son of the Shinra Corps boss and the organizer of our SOLDIER group. I don’t know what this could be about, he only calls when there’s a dire emergency. I hope nothing happened to her. As soon as I accept the call he starts screaming, ordering me to get to the Mt. Nibel Reactor as soon as possible because what we feared most was actually happening, Sephiroth was back.

            As soon as I run to by bike through the wet, grassy surface, I began to realize that my worst nightmare was coming together. Tifa and Sephiroth were going to face off at the reactor, a face off which Tifa most likely wouldn’t survive. I went from jogging to sprinting past the local material and weapons shop to the Shinra employee parking lot. Before I realized what was going on, I was already past the small suburbs of Nibelhiem and deep into Nibel Forest, about to hit the fork in the road leading to the reactor. I could see the smoke from the reactor through the leafless branches indicating that I was close to my destination. I could feel my heart jumping out of my chest, as I unsheathed my sword from its holster I knew that I was in for the fight of my life, but I knew that it was going to be worth it in the end because I’m doing this to save the love of my life.

            I’m here and not a moment too soon, I already see all of the Shinra elite’s bikes are long gone, except for one, the bike belonging to Zack. My heart is racing faster and faster with every step I take, so fast that I could almost feel the blood moving throughout my body, sending shivers down my spine. I push open the large worn metal doors only to see the doom and destruction that I had so painfully been expecting. My sword drops as I could feel my heart sink when I see her unconscious body draped along the cold dark ground, like some sort of rag doll. I can’t feel or hear anything anymore; I can’t think straight, nothing. I can’t even control myself, I just look down at her body while my body moves itself closer to hers, eventually picking her up and putting her unresponsive body down by the steps. All the while I could just hear myself muttering the phrase, “it’s going to be okay”. I know what I have to do now, I have to kill that sick bastard for what he did to Tifa, this isn’t for my job, my life, or the world, it’s just for her.

            I could feel myself swiftly running up the stairs to the main room of the reactor when I suddenly feel something grab onto my foot as im running.

            “Cloud, don’t do it.” the unknown figure says in a frail voice. As soon as I heard the deepness of the voice of the figure below, I automatically knew the person who owned that voice, it was none other than Zack Fair.

            “Don’t go, you’ll be killed, don’t be foolish” he whispers while coughing up blood.

            “Don’t stop me; I know what I have to do.” I tell him. “I’m not turning back, he hurt my girl and now he’s gonna pay.”

            “Don’t do it man, you’ll die for sure, that man is high off the craving for domination and he can’t be stopped.” he says before dropping his head back to the ground.

            “I know what could happen but I don’t care, im going to avenge her no matter what.” I tell him before escaping his grasp while continuing to run up stairs.

            I could see him now, his long, disgusting silver hair flowing with the rough winds caused by the reactor’s winds. Before I knew it I was running toward him at full speed with my blade ahead of me, with intent to kill. I had him, it was over, I could feel my sword pierce his robe, entering his side and exiting through the other side of his body, cracking the wall in front of him. I could still feel the adrenaline rushing from my head to my toes as I pulled the sword out of his body. I could see him stumble towards the ground and before I could get a hold of myself I could see the ground moving and my sword being swung once again, except this time I didn’t strike, it was he who struck me. I didn’t know what to expect now, he had knocked my sword off of the ledge and now I was weaponless and struck by a plague of fear.

            As I closed my eyes I could feel his long blade go through the center of my stomach and lift me off of the ground. Though I had just been stabbed and mortally wounded, I still couldn’t feel pain. My hands wrapped around his blade, shocking both him and myself, and before I knew what was happening, I could see that he was now in the air and I was now standing, meanwhile the sword was still in my torso. He let out a roar as I tossed him off of the ledge into a pool of acid, killing him instantly. 

            It was over now, he was gone and Tifa, and the world was saved. I dropped to the ground, knowing that my ending was inevitable, for the wound in my stomach had basically ripped apart my whole digestive system. Although I was rapidly expiring, I knew that I had done my job, I knew that I was successful in saving the woman of my dreams. I wish that I could tell Tifa that I did this whole mess for her, that I could care less for the welfare of the world, that my main motive was to protect her, the love of my life. Too bad the last thing I’d hear before my death was the ring tone from an incoming call from none other than the boss’s son

Sudden Fiction Second Draft

Some dream job this turned out to be, I’ve been a first class SOLDIER for about three months now and it’s definitely not all it was cracked up to be. I mean, yeah I get to don the purple and black uniform and carry the oversized buster sword but other than that there’s nothing, nothing at all. For the first two months I’ve been stuck guarding the main lobby of the Shinra building just above the slums of Sector 47 in Midgar, which is nothing like the majestic depictions of SOLDIER that’s shown between basically every television program that we have down at Sector 7. This month I was “promoted” to chief guard of suspicious activities down at Nibelhiem, which isn’t too bad considering that Tifa still resides there.

            Hmm, speaking about that, Tifa was supposed to call me after she was done giving Zack and the rest of the Shinra elite the all access tour of the Mount Nibel Mako Reactor, a tour that I specifically told her not to take because of its high risk for terrorist attacks, especially after Sephiroth’s psychotic rant last week. See, its things like this that drive me crazy about that girl, she’s as bold as anything, she never listens to a word anyone tells her. If I’d lose her I don’t know what I’d do, she’s been my love for so long and I couldn’t imagine my life without her. I just hope she calls soon.

            All of a sudden I hear a muffled ring coming from my bottom right pocket right above my thigh, I hope it’s her. I unzip the leather zipper a quickly grab and flip up my phone to see who’s calling, and as I do so all I could hear is the screaming of a middle aged woman running toward her house, screaming something along the lines of, “he’s back!”. He’s back? What could that possibly mean?

            I look at the caller ID on my cell to see that it isn’t Tifa calling me at all; it’s actually Rufus, the son of the Shinra Corps boss and the organizer of our SOLDIER group. I don’t know what this could be about, he only calls when there’s a dire emergency. I hope nothing happened to her. As soon as I accept the call he starts screaming, ordering me to get to the Mt. Nibel Reactor as soon as possible because what we feared most was actually happening, Sephiroth was back.

            As soon as I run to by bike through the wet, grassy surface, I began to realize that my worst nightmare was coming together. Tifa and Sephiroth were going to face off at the reactor, a face off which Tifa most likely wouldn’t survive. I went from jogging to sprinting past the local material and weapons shop to the Shinra employee parking lot. Before I realized what was going on, I was already past the small suburbs of Nibelhiem and deep into Nibel Forest, about to hit the fork in the road leading to the reactor. I could see the smoke from the reactor through the leafless branches indicating that I was close to my destination. I could feel my heart jumping out of my chest, as I unsheathed my sword from its holster I knew that I was in for the fight of my life, but I knew that it was going to be worth it in the end because I’m doing this to save the love of my life.

            I’m here and not a moment too soon, I already see all of the Shinra elite’s bikes are long gone, except for one, the bike belonging to Zack. My heart is racing faster and faster with every step I take, so fast that I could almost feel the blood moving throughout my body, sending shivers down my spine. I push open the large worn metal doors only to see the doom and destruction that I had so painfully been expecting. My sword drops as I could feel my heart sink when I see her unconscious body draped along the cold dark ground, like some sort of rag doll. I can’t feel or hear anything anymore; I can’t think straight, nothing. I can’t even control myself, I just look down at her body while my body moves itself closer to hers, eventually picking her up and putting her unresponsive body down by the steps. All the while I could just hear myself muttering the phrase, “it’s going to be okay”. I know what I have to do now, I have to kill that sick bastard for what he did to Tifa, this isn’t for my job, my life, or the world, it’s just for her.

            I could feel myself swiftly running up the stairs to the main room of the reactor when I suddenly feel something grab onto my foot as im running.

            “Cloud, don’t do it.” the unknown figure says in a frail voice. As soon as I heard the deepness of the voice of the figure below, I automatically knew the person who owned that voice, it was none other than Zack Fair.

            “Don’t go, you’ll be killed, don’t be foolish” he whispers while coughing up blood.

            “Don’t stop me; I know what I have to do.” I tell him. “I’m not turning back, he hurt my girl and now he’s gonna pay.”

            “Don’t do it man, you’ll die for sure, that man is high off the craving for domination and he can’t be stopped.” he says before dropping his head back to the ground.

            “I know what could happen but I don’t care, im going to avenge her no matter what.” I tell him before escaping his grasp while continuing to run up stairs.

            I could see him now, his long, disgusting silver hair flowing with the rough winds caused by the reactor’s winds. Before I knew it I was running toward him at full speed with my blade ahead of me, with intent to kill. I had him, it was over, I could feel my sword pierce his robe, entering his side and exiting through the other side of his body, cracking the wall in front of him. I could still feel the adrenaline rushing from my head to my toes as I pulled the sword out of his body. I could see him stumble towards the ground and before I could get a hold of myself I could see the ground moving and my sword being swung once again, except this time I didn’t strike, it was he who struck me. I didn’t know what to expect now, he had knocked my sword off of the ledge and now I was weaponless and struck by a plague of fear.

            As I closed my eyes I could feel his long blade go through the center of my stomach and lift me off of the ground. Though I had just been stabbed and mortally wounded, I still couldn’t feel pain. My hands wrapped around his blade, shocking both him and myself, and before I knew what was happening, I could see that he was now in the air and I was now standing, meanwhile the sword was still in my torso. He let out a roar as I tossed him off of the ledge into a pool of acid, killing him instantly. 

            It was over now, he was gone and Tifa, and the world was saved. I dropped to the ground, knowing that my ending was inevitable, for the wound in my stomach had basically ripped apart my whole digestive system. Although I was rapidly expiring, I knew that I had done my job, I knew that I was successful in saving the woman of my dreams. I wish that I could tell Tifa that I did this whole mess for her, that I could care less for the welfare of the world, that my main motive was to protect her, the love of my life. Too bad the last thing I’d hear before my death was the ring tone from an incoming call from none other than the boss’s son

Sudden Fiction First Draft

Do you know the probability of an ordinary individual suddenly becoming a hero on any given day? Well according to research, it’s about one in every three hundred million people, meaning said person has to be pretty lucky if they’re the “chosen one”, right? Wrong, in fact becoming a hero could be the most unfortunate event during a person’s entire lifetime, that is, if they survive at all. This is the story of twenty one year old Cloud Strife.

            Some dream job this turned out to be, I’ve been a first class SOLDIER for about three months now and it’s definitely not all it was cracked up to be. I mean, yeah I get to don the purple and black uniform and carry the oversized buster sword but other than that there’s nothing, nothing at all. For the first two months I’ve been stuck guarding the main lobby of the Shinra building just above the slums of Sector 47 in Midgar, which is nothing like the majestic depictions of SOLDIER that’s shown between basically every television program that we have down at Sector 7. This month I was “promoted” to chief guard of suspicious activities down at Nibelhiem, which isn’t too bad considering that Tifa still resides there.

            Hmm, speaking about that, Tifa was supposed to call me after she was done giving Zack and the rest of the Shinra elite the all access tour of the Mount Nibel Mako Reactor, a tour that I specifically told her not to take because of its high risk for terrorist attacks, especially after Sephiroth’s psychotic rant last week. See, its things like this that drive me crazy about that girl, she’s as bold as anything, she never listens to a word anyone tells her. If I’d lose her I don’t know what I’d do, she’s been my love for so long and I couldn’t imagine my life without her. I just hope she calls soon.

            All of a sudden I hear a muffled ring coming from my bottom right pocket right above my thigh, I hope it’s her. I unzip the leather zipper a quickly grab and flip up my phone to see who’s calling, and as I do so all I could hear is the screaming of a middle aged woman running toward her house, screaming something along the lines of, “he’s back!”. He’s back? What could that possibly mean?

            I look at the caller ID on my cell to see that it isn’t Tifa calling me at all; it’s actually Rufus, the son of the Shinra Corps boss and the organizer of our SOLDIER group. I don’t know what this could be about, he only calls when there’s a dire emergency. I hope nothing happened to her. As soon as I accept the call he starts screaming, ordering me to get to the Mt. Nibel Reactor as soon as possible because what we feared most was actually happening, Sephiroth was back.

            As soon as I run to by bike through the wet, grassy surface, I began to realize that my worst nightmare was coming together. Tifa and Sephiroth were going to face off at the reactor, a face off which Tifa most likely wouldn’t survive. I went from jogging to sprinting past the local material and weapons shop to the Shinra employee parking lot. Before I realized what was going on, I was already past the small suburbs of Nibelhiem and deep into Nibel Forest, about to hit the fork in the road leading to the reactor. I could see the smoke from the reactor through the leafless branches indicating that I was close to my destination. I could feel my heart jumping out of my chest, as I unsheathed my sword from its holster I knew that I was in for the fight of my life, but I knew that it was going to be worth it in the end because I’m doing this to save the love of my life.

            I’m here and not a moment too soon, I already see all of the Shinra elite’s bikes are long gone, except for one, the bike belonging to Zack. My heart is racing faster and faster with every step I take, so fast that I could almost feel the blood moving through out my body, sending shivers down my spine. I push open the large worn metal doors only to see the doom and destruction that I had so painfully been expecting. My sword drops as I could feel my heart sink when I see her unconscious body draped along the cold dark ground, like some sort of rag doll. I can’t feel or hear anything anymore; I can’t think straight, nothing. I can’t even control myself, I just look down at her body while my body moves itself closer to hers, eventually picking her up and putting her unresponsive body down by the steps. All the while I could just hear my self muttering the phrase, “it’s going to be okay”. I know what I have to do now, I have to kill that sick bastard for what he did to Tifa, this isn’t for my job, my life, or the world, it’s just for her.

            I could feel myself swiftly running up the stairs to the main room of the reactor when I suddenly feel something grab onto my foot as im running.

            “Cloud, don’t do it.” the unknown figure says in a frail voice. As soon as I heard the deepness of the voice of the figure below, I automatically knew the person who owned that voice, it was none other than Zack Fair.

            “Don’t go, you’ll be killed, don’t be foolish” he whispers while coughing up blood.

            “Don’t stop me; I know what I have to do.” I tell him. “I’m not turning back, he hurt my girl and now he’s gonna pay.”

            “Don’t do it man, you’ll die for sure, that man is high off the craving for domination and he can’t be stopped.” he says before dropping his head back to the ground.

            “I know what could happen but I don’t care, im going to avenge her no matter what.” I tell him before escaping his grasp while continuing to run up stairs.

            I could see him now, his long, disgusting silver hair flowing with the rough winds caused by the reactor’s winds. Before I knew it I was running toward him at full speed with my blade ahead of me, with intent to kill. I had him, it was over, I could feel my sword pierce his robe, entering his side and exiting through the other side of his body, cracking the wall in front of him. I could still feel the adrenaline rushing from my head to my toes as I pulled the sword out of his body. I could see him stumble towards the ground and before I could get a hold of myself I could see the ground moving and my sword being swung once again, except this time I didn’t strike, it was he who struck me. I didn’t know what to expect now, he had knocked my sword off of the ledge and now I was weaponless and struck by a plague of fear.

            As I closed my eyes I could feel his long blade go through the center of my stomach and lift me off of the ground. Though I had just been stabbed and mortally wounded, I still couldn’t feel pain. My hands wrapped around his blade, shocking both him and myself, and before I knew what was happening, I could see that he was now in the air and I was now standing, meanwhile the sword was still in my torso. He let out a roar as I tossed him off of the ledge into a pool of acid, killing him instantly.

            It was over now, he was gone and Tifa, and the world was saved. I dropped to the ground, knowing that my ending was inevitable, for the wound in my stomach had basically ripped apart my whole digestive system. Although I was rapidly expiring, I knew that I had done my job, I knew that I was successful in saving the woman of my dreams. I wish that I could tell Tifa that I did this whole mess for her, that I could care less for the welfare of the world, that my main motive was to protect her, the love of my life. Too bad the last thing I’d hear before my death was the ring tone from an incoming call from none other then the boss’s son

Reflection

Kevin Walsh

 

My senior year so far could be categorized as a great failure, for two simple reasons. My year could be considered great, because though I haven’t done particularly well, I’ve learned a lot of what to and not to do on a college campus to allow me to prosper and gain the knowledge needed for each class, while being considered a failure because I didn’t work as hard as I should have and I let my personal life get in the way of my studies, making my grades suffer. My goals this semester were to get at least an 88 in every class, including my high school classes, to get a better shot at getting into Hunter College next year. Though at first I felt that I was going to be able to confidently give 100% effort and finally shine like I could have, I faced many unforeseen adversities, causing my to have periods of moping and questioning myself, taking my focus away from my work, causing a significant drop in my grade. I don’t know what has worked so far because I haven’t done well at all, making not only myself, but everyone around me disappointed, but what hasn’t worked is focusing on my personal problems and making that my priority.

I could see myself most likely going to either a lesser known four-year CUNY, or a community college, but working my way back into the Hunter College campus. I don’t know if I pt myself in too deep of a hole this semester to work my way out of it come spring, but I am extremely determined to get into this school, so no matter what come in my way, I will end up going to Hunter. I plan on achieving this goal by studying hard, finding time for myself, and distancing my studies from my personal life, because as Ms. DeFeo said, “You can’t change your social life, but you are the only one who could change your grades.”

This year, I think that I’ve become a better writer, mainly because of the techniques I’ve learned this year that have really allowed me to improve my fiction writing skills. I still need to work on subtext and leaving out unnecessary details from my stories. I think that significant detail, dialogue, and imagery are techniques that have been easy for me, but techniques such as prose rhythm have been hard for me to utilize in my story. I plan on working on the skills that I’ve had trouble with incorporating in my stories could be improved by getting personal help from my teachers and utilizing the help from the writing center here at the college.

I really have enjoyed writing my sudden fiction piece because I’ve always enjoyed creative writing I haven’t exactly found the reason why, but I’ve always enjoyed letting my imagination loose and connecting to my characters. To be a successful writer, I need to be able to take as much pride in my essay and general writing pieces, such as reaction papers, to be a better, more well rounded writer.

By the end of the year, I hope to be a full fledged fiction writer. I believe that I have the tools and imagination to write great works of fiction, but I need to work on mastering the necessary tools and techniques to become the best writer I could be. What I hope to gain from this whole program in general is the tools I need to have in order to succeed in the real world. So far I’ve demonstrated quite clearly that I’m not ready for all the responsibilities that come with being an adult, but hopefully by the end of the year, I’ll have a better sense of how to be an independent person and succeed on my own.

Finally, my portfolio represents me as a person and student because a lot of my work is late and unfinished, making me struggle to finish all of the work by the deadline, something that I’ve had a habit of doing during my whole high school tenure.

Reaction Paper 2

Hills Like White Elephants, by renown author Earnest Hemmingway, is a remarkable short story that actively engages the reader with an outburst of images, symbols, and themes. Though so many themes could be applied to this story, one theme appears through out most blatently and that is the drastic change one decision could have on a persons life and happiness. While on a vacation to Spain, an American couple, who aren't given names, spend their last moments of their venture sitting in a bar, discussing whether or not for the girl to have an operation, which also isn't specified. Though this may seem simple enough to the naked eye, there is a rather large conflict between the two about the operation, a conflict which their entire future relies on.

As stated before, there could be many themes which pertain to the story, but Hemmingway best demonstrates the the overbaring effect one single event could have in determining the outcome of one more persons lives as shown through both direct, indirect, and subtext dialogue between the two characters. Though initial tension is present between the two characters stemming from the beginning of the story, the main discussion heats up when the operation situation is brought up by the man. " 'I think it's the best thing to do. But I don't want you to do it if you don't really want to.' 'And if I do it you'll be happy and things will be like they were and you'll love me?' " (Hemmingway, page 2) This dialogue demonstrates the conflict both have with the operation and whether to get it or not and how their future relies on it; the girl even goes as far to ask if their love depends on it. The theme adds to the story because it gives the story a dramatic twist and uses imagery and character emotions to spice up the conversation between the two.

Hemmingway was very effective with the messages in this story because of his vivid use of imagery, setting, and characterization, which all add to the themes portrayed within the piece. All of the afore mentioned methods used in order to bring out the theme also help bring the whole entire story alive by bringing the reader into the story. With outstanding sensory details and a very discriptive use of appearence, the reader is able to clearly see exactly what's going on, both outside and inside of the characters heads. Though Hemmingway's techinques bring the story to life, the main factor that changes this story from a good to great story is believeable the characters are and how one could relate to them. " 'It's really an awfully simple operation, Jig,' the man said. 'It's not really an operation at all.' The girl looked at the ground the table legs rested on. 'I know you wouldn't mind it, Jig. It's really not anything. It's just to let the air in.' The girl did not say anything. " (Hemmingway, page 3) Even though the girl does not say anything at first, by her actions and her silence, it is clear that she's worried about the operation and how it would change their lives.

While reading, someone is compelled to think about many different things, to say the least. This story, first and foremost, makes a reader wonder exactly what is this operation and why would it have such a large outcome in the happiness of their relationship. Another may wonder what exactly does the girl mean while comparing one part of the setting to another, these types of questions brought upon by the characters and by the setting make the readers active participants within the story. An example of why this story would make the reader think of such questions could be identified within specific parts of the conversation between the two, " 'I know. But if I do it, then it will be nice again if I say things are like white elephants, and you'll like it?' 'I'll love it. I love it now but I just can't think about it. You know how I get when I worry.' 'If I do it you won't ever worry?' 'I won't worry about that because it's perfectly simple.' 'Then I'll do it. Because I don't care about me.' " ( Hemmingway, page 5) First off, the introduction of the white elephants poses questions in the minds of the reader because it has nothing to do with the operation or anything that they have already discussed. Second, there seems to be a change in both the desires of the man and girl, which throws off the argument between the two and causes them to shift sides.

This is a piece of literature to be remembered, both because of the way it ties the reader into the affairs of the characters, and how it has clear depicitions of many different literary elements to make the story clear and easy to get in to. This story should be read for generations to give them ideas how one change in lifestyle could change you into a completely different person, not mentioning that this story is extremely interesting to decipher as well.

Reaction Paper

 Undoubtedly a classic piece of literature, A Perfect Day for Bananafish, by JD Salinger deals with a man named Seymour, who suffers from what seems to be Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, his wife Muriel, the wife’s mother, and a little girl whom Seymour meets at the beach. While Seymour attempts to temporarily escape from the guilt and confusion that is his life, he begins to converse and connect with a five year old girl, which many believe is controversial for the fact that Seymour does at points get very close to the young girl.  What many seem to disregard once he begins speaking of the “Bananafish” is that the fish is a perfect image of his inner state of being and what the war has done to him psychologically.  Though there are major themes that appear in this piece, the major theme which occurs throughout Seymour’s life, and eventual death, is the overbearing negative effect war has on the human mind.

                As stated before, there could be many themes which pertain to the story, but Salinger best represents the theme of the overbearing negative effect of war for several different reasons. The author best demonstrates this theme while Seymour describes the lifestyle, habits, and ways of death of a Bananafish to the little girl. He states how Bananafishes live in caves and are able to roam free until they have eaten so many bananas that they become so fat and are unable to escape the cave and eventually die.  This ties into Seymour’s life because while in war, he had witnessed so many murders and that he couldn’t escape the guilt and terror he felt inside of him, which resulted in him killing himself. This theme helps support the story because it shows that your actions could pay a dangerous toll on your body and mind, which is demonstrated within the life of both Seymour and the Bananafish.

                Salinger has been effective in demonstrating this theme because like the Bananafish, Seymour seems to be a character than no one, besides a juvenile mind could actually relate to. The author uses techniques such as the separation between Seymour and his wife, Muriel’s, mother.  According to the mother, Seymour is not a good match for her what so ever and even spoke with Muriel about possibly leaving him.  Another example is the unlikely relations of certain characters, most importantly, the girl and Seymour. With him being surrounded by adults, it was a shock to find Seymour talking mainly to such a young girl, making the reader see what affect war could have on the social patterns of people. Salinger also gives the reader a good sense of empathy with the main characters, which are Seymour, Muriel, and the little girl. All characters could be related to because they all have a sense of humanity associated with them. For example, when on the phone with her mother, Muriel shows impatience when talking with her mother, by saying things like, “Mother," [the girl interrupted], "I just told you. He drove very nicely. Under fifty the whole way, as a matter of fact." (Salinger, page 1) showing how she doesn’t always listen to parental guidance, something which many young adults don’t do.  

Journal 4b. (part 1)

It all started... when I was born. I took a look in the eyes of my mother and father and saw only one thing, evil. They laughed menacingly as they barged ino my room and ate my last cookie and kicked my Pikachu repeatedly, as I layed there, crying like the baby they thought I was. I couldn't take it anymore, tonight was the night I could get my revenge for all of the things they've done to me. I took my battered Pikachu, the remains of the cookie I was longing for, and ran out to the 600,000th precinct, where I reported them for animal abuse and grand theft. The police said nothing, I asked them to arrest my parents but all they could do was laugh at me and call me a little girl so I said, "you know what, I'm taking this into my own hands!" and ran to the local bargain store and brought twenty pairs of socks, rolled them into a big ball, and shoved them into one large size twenty-two tube sock and as soon as I got home, I beat my parents with that one fateful sock, yelling, "consider this Pikachu's revenge!"

Journal 3a.

While walking throughout the impoverished town of Old York, my eyes slowly distanced themselves from the sight of old abandoned buildings and rotten tree trunks and found their way to a wrinkled piece of paper.
"For sale: baby shoes, never worn"
The old flier read, showing obvious signs of not only weather induced damages, but tear makrs scattered primarily around the words, "baby" and "never"

Journal 3b.

Six word memoir:
Why bother when nobody else does?

College Essay Final Draft

Let's face it, without a bit of adversity, the world wouldn't function properly. When I first picked up a Spalding brand basketball, roughly at the age of seven, I only had the intention of spending quality time with my father on that one Saturday afternoon, that's it. The first couple of times my dad took me out the the park, I would literally shoot the ball three times before running around kicking rocks or just sitting down staring at a gate, not caring about anything to do with the sport. It's kind of funny, while playing one day, my dad remarked on how it seemed that I was more of an artist of a player, because of what he said that I was focusing on, which wasn't shooting and pulling cross-overs, but the shapes of the clouds and the sound of the ball hitting the dark gray pavement. The words that he said didn't hurt me, the way he said it tore me up inside. That moment changed my life completely.
Once I was twelve, I finally stopped staring off into space and started jumping into it. Straight after school I'd drop my book bag on the entrance of my bedroom, along with my black North Face coat and run downstairs to practice in the park across the street from my buliding. I'd pick up my new basketball and dribble from my house to the park before finally running up and doing a quick lay up as if I were Kobe Bryant during the NBA playoffs. Dawning under the always gray skies in the fall, I'd take a couple of jumpers and like anyone, I'd make some and I'd miss some and that was that, plus, it's not like I was playing with anyone anyways. I always wondered why I was the only white kid who played in Dry Dock, and after a month, I found out why.

About a month or so later, with a new Spalding basketball in toe, I gathered enough courage to ask a couple of kids who I've seen play here before. Hey, I knew I wasn't goign to do so well since I had'nt been playing for very long, but what could go wrong? Well I was about to find out the hard way. I walked up to the guys with a calm exterior appearance and politely asked if i could join their game. After I had asked that simple question, they looked at me as if i had join made a yo' mama joke and had offended them, which confused me. A short pause had occurred before they muttered the words, "get outta here, white boy." I took two steps back and tried to analyze what in the world just happened when another kid muttered another insult, "we don't need you ruining our game". After the kids said what they said to me, I honestly felt like quitting the sport in all because if they didn't accept me, who would?
After my run in with those guys, I tried my luck again, except this time, I was a bit more confident. While playing the day before, I noticed how some of the kids around the park that I've watched were watching me play, and since I was hitting most of my shots, I figured they'd definitely let me play. So I walked up to them, once again with my ball in toe, and said, "yo guys, wanna run a full?". Yeah, my response was a bit different, but hey, at that point, I'd do anything to fit in. I waited eagerly and heart one of the bigger kids blurt out, "sure whitey, lets see what you got." Man, I was so glad to feel the blistering joy that came with being accepted. I ran to the court, put my ball down by the benches next to the black gate surrounding the public pool, and jumped onto the court with the rest of the basketball players. I distinctly remember watching the guys constantly miss short range jump shots and over dribbling like crazy, meanwhile little ol' me was sitting by the free throw line, unguarded, just waiting for the ball to come my way. By the time that I had realized that I was still playing and not standing on the court for no reason, the ball had slowly came my way off of a missed jump shot by one of the other team's players. I figured that it was my moment to shine, so I took the ball back to the free throw line and took a mid ranged jumper, praying that it'd go in.
My prayers went unanswered as I watched the ball rotate in and out of the hoop and bounce out of bounds. As soon as the ball came off the rim, my team started yelling at me, even though they had missed a pretty nice amount of shots themselves. One thing I heard out of all the chatter distinctly was one kid, the kid who allowed me to play in the first place, said to one of his friends, "who let this bum play?" Needless to say, I felt unwanted yet again. It was at this point that I realized that I need to practice even harder to prove everyone wrong; that moment shaped who I am today, both as a player, and a person.

Journal 2.

"I'm disgusted, don't even look at me right now!" He screamed at his reflection in the tiny crooked mirror sightly above the bathroom sink.
"Go away, I can't take you; I can't take anything anymore!" He hollered once again, hoping that he himself would disappear.
Bob is a struggling college freshman, lost around the huge campus of the famous "Farmer's College" In the striving melting pot of New York City. His feelings about this new life outside of the old grade school routine are clearly shown by his moping around the school.
"Man, what's wrong with that dude? He's like a robot or something," He'd hear a couple of girls say, but that wasn't even the worst of it.
"What's wrong with that guy? He's definitely one of them, "emos" that hang around the skater parks. I mean come on, look at him, check out that long face, he's probably gonna go home and be cuttin' himself after precalc!" He heard others usually snicker while walking past, as if he couldn't hear.
Though he visibly hated their comments, he couldn't blame them. He knew about the faces he put on, the frown, eyebrows glewed down to the bridge of his nose. He knew he wasn't normal, well, at least in the eyes of everyone else.

List of things 2.

1.Things going through my mind

- What the heck did I do wrong on that math test, how'd I do so bad?

- How can I learn from my mistakes

- Will these entries be very benificial towards my grade later on though their a bit late?

2. Things making me angry

- Looking into my bag and seeing my horrible score

- How no matter how hard I try I can't seem to grasp what we're learning in computer science

3. Things I want to do

- Stop making excuses, though they are valid, and do my absolute best to prove to Mr. Froner, Ms. DeFeo, and myself that I CAN strive in a college enviornment

- Go home, study, and play my xbox with my cousin

4. Things I NEED to do

- Put myself first

- Stop procrastinating

- Stop being lazy because I HAVE potential, but I just don't use it.

5. What I'm thinking

- How good it's going to feel once I have all my work turned in.

- I'm glad that my globalization and human rights work is caught up at least

- Why am I listening to this song on repeat? I didn't put it on repeat!

6. What I'm going to do after school

- Go home and get settled in, maybe eat.

- Shower, so I don't keep smelling the stench of failure.

- Do homework/ study

7. How I'm going to prove myself

- Start getting to school earlier, starting tomorrow for study group.

- No matter what, do all, and I mean ALL, of my work.

- though it may be valid, not make anymore excuses.

8. What I'm hoping to have completed by tonight

- My college essay so that I won't look foolish with a draft being presented.

- All of my homework, mostly make up

- My bag completely cleaned out and organized

9. What's confusing me

- "funny situations" with some girls

-How I did so bad on my test

- What to do next.

10. Things that are saving me from breaking

- my cousin, because he's a really supportave guy, though he may not know it

- My girlfriend, I can't really say enough

- My mom, because I can't disappoint her; disappointing her would be worse than disappointing myself... seriously.

-

Journal 1.

Free Write:
I wish I weren't here right now, I can't stand even thinking about math because of my extremely shocking and disappointing test score on the math midterm. I felt confident coming into the test that thursday and I really believed that I knew most of the material included on that test, which made the results even more painful to even glance at. I don't know, even though Mr. Liao drops the lowest exam score, I'm still pretty banged up about it, which I think doesn't make sense. I guess it's just more of a pride thing than anything right now, but oh well, maybe I needed this as an indication that I need to study even harder.

15 things

1. Things that make me angry
- When there's no food in my refrigerator when I come home from school.
2. Things I wish were never said
- I wish that I never told me my that I didn't love her after she wouldn't give me an Oreo when I was 8.
3. Things that make me afraid
- Sleeping in complete darkness.
4. Things to die for
- My family
5. Things that changed me
- High school
6. Things that excite me
- getting new clothes
7. Things that make me happy
- watching T.V before I go to bed.
8. Things that I like
- Playing my XBOX 360
9. Things that are confusing
- Meanings of things that people say.
10. Things that get me ging when I don't feel well
- Playing basketball
11. Things that calm me down
- Listening to music
12. Things that make me sad
- Doing bad on tests
13. Things that are weird
- Meeting new people
14. Things that get old
- Playing the same game
15. Things that make me laugh
- Seeing people do dangerous things.