My Garden

There is Another Sky by Emily Dickinson

Published in 1890

There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!

My Garden

Florida is where I go,

For the warmth of the air,

And frolic through the orange grove,

Beaches are somewhere there;

Water washes up on the shoreline,

Dolphins are seen close by,

And the sun brings its shine,

Dazzling in the bright sky,

Poor weather I pardon,

For I will not say bye,

This land is my garden

Libra

Born within the Sun and Venus

Of October and September

Coincidence of these two yellows

Balance be brought upon me

Harmony, my life’s essence

Air is the sign’s element

Said to be kind and vicious

Resembles the stability of things

Playing with Order of Events

When we take our seats, I am by the window, the middle seat is empty, and my mom is seated in the aisle seat because she has a history of being claustrophobic.

            I remember her telling me that she became claustrophobic ever since she had a dream that she got stuck in an elevator. Ever since then it has affected her. During one of our vacations in Miami, we were taking the elevator to the floor that our room was on. My mom was arguing with us to not take the elevator and to take the stairs instead, but the elevator was more convenient. My sister, my mom, and I were in the elevator with about three other women. The elevator all of a sudden got stuck. My mom freaked out right away and pushed everyone aside to try to open the elevator door herself. Everyone else in the elevator stayed composed. My sister and I were trying to relax my mother while another woman called the front desk about the elevator. It wasn’t like we were going to be stuck in there forever and there was no way out. My mom caused everyone else in the elevator to have an even more unpleasant experience dealing with the current situation.

After take off, my mom and I both fall asleep for about an hour until the turbulence jerks us awake.

“Oh my God, Raven! The plane is going to crash! Oh my God!” my mom screams grabbing onto my arm.

“No its not. Stop it.”

“Raven, I’m scared!”

“Are you serious?”

“Why aren’t you helping me?”

“Because you’re overreacting.”

            Still, I let her hold on to me hoping it’ll help outburst which is freaking out the other passengers. But she doesn’t stop, not until the plane lands. The plane rolls up at the gate and stops. We have not been waiting that long but for my mom it feels like at least an hour.

Reflection

When I heard the class had to go to a mandatory book reading, I immediately thought of the word boring. I do not particularly like reading nor was I looking forward to someone reading to me. In all honestly, I was surprised to admit that I quite enjoyed Tayari Jones’ reading of “Silver Sparrow.” It was not so much that I actually liked the book; it was more due to fact that I enjoyed the author’s personality. The she read the dialogue in her story caught my attention. She performed each character and kept me interested. I expected a long boring reading of some book that I wouldn’t read anyway, but it was a positive experience and it did not cause me to believe that my time was wasted. Jones’ question and answer section at the end of her reading was definitely the most entertaining part. She was a person that the average person was able to relate to. She did not make herself to seem better than anyone. She told her audience to basically stay true to themselves and their writing. She expressed that writers need to be realistic about their writing and to know what is good, what is bad, and what the audience would find interesting. She was definitely a personality that almost anyone could get along with.

On Happiness

            You can argue what happiness is. You can argue how to acquire it. But we can all agree that it is a delightful feeling. I view it as the most important thing in life. It is subconsciously our overall goal to fulfill. In some it hides, in some it flourishes, but happiness has infinite meanings. I would describe it as a combination of everything that makes you feel content, but at the same time it is also somewhat indescribable. Some attempt to illustrate this emotion in words, but a verbal description would be ineffective. You just feel it; it fills your soul with warmth. When happiness takes its toll on you, you feel like nothing can bring you down. You do not need to explain to someone if you are happy, they just know, you just know. Your gleaming smile, the tone of your voice, your carefree spirit, these are all indications of the emotion we all strive to attain.

The simplest things cause me to be happy. The angelic voices of the Backstreet Boys create a natural drunk off life reaction for me. Coffee, Backstreet Boys, and my dog are the foundation to my happiness. Many other factors play a role to this feeling, but these three objects heighten the mood. For my friend, seeing the Penn State swim team is all that is needed to create happiness within. My sister only needs a party and my dog only needs her bone. To each their own.

            Some people are more demanding. My mother needs a new Chanel bag to be satisfied. My father needs to constantly upgrade his Corvette to be pleased. Of course they are happy just as they are. They have each other and that all that matters is what they will argue. Its true, but materialistic objects enhance the mood.

Various scenarios create this sensation.

 Cheap and expensive items, expected and unexpected occurrences, and little and large items. All these abundant factors support and prolong the attained happiness. There are different levels of happiness. Each level is accessible depending on person and cause. All depends how much of nothing or everything the individual has. To experience the affects of happiness, you have to have experienced sorrow. We all heard the saying, “to experience the good you have to experience the bad.” The good is what we would consider happiness. Happiness is an element for a healthy life. The key to life is finding the definition that most appropriately fits your idea of the word "happiness".

America

During my high school years, I never cared for the United States. If anything, I did not think my country was all that great. When the class would say the Pledge of Allegiance, I would stand up out of obligation but would never put my hand over my heart of recite the words. It was not until I travelled through Europe did I become in love with my country where people would flee to in order to start a new life.

Summer of 2010 and 2011, I was fortunate enough to visit Europe.  In the summer of 2010 I went explored England, Switzerland, France, Croatia, Turkey, Greece, and Italy. Since I went to these countries with a group of people my age on a Teen Tour, I did not pay much attention to the living conditions and life style of the areas. I was too focused on the social aspect of the trip. The European trip with my family in the summer of 2011 kicked me into reality. My family and I ventured through the Czech Republic, Austria, Hungary, and Romania. Every time my family tours a location, my father always makes sure we are paying attention to everything. He points out every little detail that he feels is important to the family’s experience for the trip. I recall visiting a Jewish cemetery in Romania filled with garbage and syringes. It was a depressing sight, not just due to the fact that its cemetery, but because it was an ill kept cemetery and just plain right disgusting. All through these countries I saw a repulsive amount of rubbish that took over the streets and sidewalks. There were even an unrealistic amount of stray dogs roaming through the area accommodating to the city life. The atmosphere in these countries grossed me out immensely. The whole time I was in Europe, I was comparing everything to the way of life in America. I compared how Europe you are not able to drink out water out of the tap because the water is not sanitary, the way most places in Europe do not have air-conditioning and that you have to pay to use the bathrooms. During the trip I kept thinking, “It’s beautiful and all, but would I really want to live here?” The appealing parts in these countries are the tourist attractions, but that is how it is for almost every country. Each country has their own source of beauty.

 That trip fully changed my perception of America. I now think it is the best country and am grateful to live here. Red, white, and blue are my official favorite colors. I even now go out of my way to buy American flag merchandise. I have a variety of different American flag styled shirts, an American flag backpack, an American flag purse, two small American flags hanging up in my dorm room, and a copy of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. I verbally defend this country during arguments and any song that mentions America in a positive context I automatically love. I am so thankful to live in the great, secure country and can not even dream of leaving elsewhere.

No Place Like Home

     Like most children, they typically feel comfortable in their homes and view it as a safe haven. 11-year-old Ryan Aguirre once thought that he was always safe in the comfort of his own home, until the night of January 5, 2011. Ryan was at home with his father while relaxing playing a game in his family’s apartment located in the Bronx when someone knocked on the door. Ryan is an innocent little boy and a well-behaved honor student at his school, he would never think something so undeserving was about to come to him. Ryan was casually walking towards the door when he heard the knocking. All he asked was “Who?” then three rounds of bullets started coming at him through the door. He was clinging onto the wall and calling for his father while his dark brown eyes stood out with fear. While latching onto the wall, Ryan just stood there while the bullets were cutting through the door and making their way into the apartment. He did not move only stood there. It was probably for the best that he did not leave his current spot, for who knows what would have happened to him if he tried dodging the bullets. While fear and a stir of emotions were running through Ryan’s body, he was shot in the stomach. He did not feel anything, fortunately enough, but is now scared physically and emotionally. The bullet did not puncture any vital organs or kill the young boy, if anything it only left a wound. This incident did more damage to his mental state. He is now paranoid that the shooter will come for him again. He’s terrified to stay in his own home. Ryan never saw the shooter behind the door; he was only a victim of the man’s anger. Ryan was not the man’s target. The shooter was actually targeting Ryan’s sister who is involved in a gang. Due to his sister’s poor life choices, Ryan got caught up in her mess.    

Source:

http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/bronx/don_want_to_go_back_RoDrmcYTwsGZ9yRdmy7NwK