You should date a girl who reads.
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She...’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in. the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”
― Rosemarie Urquico
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Anyone? Hello? No? Fine! ): I still have my true friends, *opens up beginning of book*.
"If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are." - Rosemarie Urquico
This is only a small portion of her quote. I'll post the real version.
This is only a small portion of her quote. I'll post the real version.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Dystopian story
The story of a girl who knew everything, yet knew nothing.
March 25, 8000
To any survivors,
My name is Nicolyn. I’m fifteen. I come from the Gamies and the Siffs. They were a tribe that once lived six thousand years ago. I keep a journal that dates back to the days when I was a little girl. I am still considered a ‘little girl’. People call me stupid, but they don’t know what I hide from them all. I have an extraordinary gift -
I am a girl who knows everything.
My journal helps me stay happy, and calm during times like these. They have never been pleasant. This is the year of 8000. It is this day of March that brings us all together, no matter what body, size or shape, amount of money made, or status of health. This is Sanctus Day. The day the government took over and made us their lab rats.
Those untouched are from the wealthy group. They are stationed in the middle of the city. I am lucky to be classified part of the wealthy, yet poor. The ones without much money live on the outskirts, and most of the time, out of the city limits. I wander from the outside area, to the city. I work here, amongst the rich, and live among the poor.
“Nicolyn Sartow.”
“Sanero.” Yes
I must answer in the language our past taught us. The City does not know that I scarcely know any of the language. It is Skeptim, a very old form of speaking. Our City commanded it be a law, that all men, women, and children learn its ways.
Most of the elders know all it contains. The hand movements, the way you are to guide yourself towards The City, the way you must hold yourself while walking through the city, everything. Least be including the tongue. It is needed, yet not. For we must know of it to communicate our thoughts and answers to The City, but we mustn't use it in the city, save for speaking with the Council.
The Council are a committee that are selected every few years to decide on new laws and such. They don’t really do much, just sit in their white building all day. They wear long, draping white ropes as well to match the incredible blinding glare from the sun, to our eyes. The impeccable “glow” that surrounds them is to ensure ‘peacefulness..’ Like it really does anything save, give us headaches and make us stare at the emaciated ground. Covered in trash and patches of coal dust.
“Che.” Come
“Sanero Penko.” Yes sir.
“Say watchen toktub kelk.”
One of the elders mouths what The City said. What have you eaten this week?
In turn he mouths what I need to say. Septum codana potlem.
“Septum codana potlem.” One bag of potatoes
“Ven Septum?” Only one?
“Sanero.” Yes
“Pershambu naw. Tik oblum” Very well. You may go.
“Tok.” Thank you
____________________________________________________________________________
Three weeks later….
April 8, 8000
To all my friends and all my foes,
One day I am going to take over The City. They will be no match for me. I will rise an army from our scattered ashes. We shall beat them. They will lie on the ground gasping for mercy. And on that day, we shall all be free.
______________________________________________________________________________
One year later….
May 16, 8001
To all the men, women and children here with me today,
May we all perish as heros, or survive to rise.
_______________________________________________
“What are we?
“Sirt yal kayin?”
“We are the winners! We are the champions! We shall rise!”
“Jayn yeh ti kimmey! Jayn yeh ti cuyun! Jayn plit kepto!”
All chants: “We are the winners. We are the champions. We shall rise!”
“Jayn yeh ti kimmey! Jaynyeh ti cuyun! Jayn plit kepto!”
“Where are we?”
“ Re yeh jayn?”
“We are at the city gates. We are here to tear them down. We shall win! We shall rise! Let all The City burn. Let all the memories die!”
“Jayn yeh a cyt hata. Jayn yeh yun pay ker uney pasey! Jayn plie kalk! Jayn plit kepto! Pi key The City fueg. Pi key ti myseyas henyu!”
All chants: “We are at the city gates. We are here to tear them down. We shall win! We shall rise! Let all The City burn. Let all the memories die!”
“Jayn yeh a cyt hata. Jayn yeh yun pay ker uney pasey! Jayn plie kalk! Jayn plit kepto! Pi key The City fueg. Pi key ti myseyas henyu!”
It is time to attack! We shall win! They may come upon us, but they’re missing one fatal link. I am the girl that knows eveyrthing!”
Dictionary:
Monokay che - Please come here.
Lekuron - I need you, come quick!
Sanero - Yes
Pak - No
Tok - Thank you
Sanero - Yes
Che. - Come
Sanero Penko. - Yes sir.
Say watchen toktub kelk. - What have you eaten this week?
Septum codana potlem. - One bag of potatoes
Ven Septum? - Only one?
Pershambu naw. Tik oblum - Very well. You may go.
Sirt yal kayin? - What are we?
Jayn yeh ti kimmey! Jayn yeh ti cuyun! Jayn plit kepto! - We are the winners! We are the champions! We shall rise
Jayn yeh ti kimmey! Jaynyeh ti cuyun! Jayn plit kepto! - We are the winners. We are the champions. We shall rise!
Re yeh jayn? - Where are we?
Jayn yeh a cyt hata. Jayn yeh yun pay ker uney pasey! Jayn plie kalk! Jayn plit kepto! Pi key The City fueg. Pi key ti myseyas henyu! - We are at the city gates. We are here to tear them down. We shall win! We shall rise! Let all The City burn. Let all the memories die!
Jayn yeh a cyt hata. Jayn yeh yun pay ker uney pasey! Jayn plie kalk! Jayn plit kepto! Pi key The City fueg. Pi key ti myseyas henyu! - We are at the city gates. We are here to tear them down. We shall win! We shall rise! Let all The City burn. Let all the memories die!
Cell phones should be allowed in class essay
Cell phones in class essay
I think cell phones should be allowed in school, but only at the most appropriate times. Teachers need to put a certain amount of trust in us, but we ourselves need to hold the ability to stay on task and not constantly do what we want to. We were born into a technologically advanced world. We can’t help it if we want to work with technology all the time.
There are many things teachers can teach us about on phones, and about phones. Cell phones have many uses. I think the schools should provide us with cell phones to use during class. All they have to do is after class see what we were doing with the cell phones, and then revoke our privileges if caught having an un approved message or call sent/received.
Now, about the trust. You can’t always put trust in someone, unless you feel that they will not break what you put forth in them. Teachers are a bit iffy, when giving trust. We all know the nerds, and we all know the kids that act bad every chance they get. The teachers will probably be reluctant to teach the bad kids using phones. With the good kids, they’re a little more relaxed and probably feel that they can give them some lead way with the cell phones.
What happens when the kid repeatedly gets off task? Well, simply revoke the entire class of the privilege to use the cell phones. Now, the class might get extremely mad, but if one can’t follow the rules, what’s saying he/she can’t just grab someone else’s phone to use? If the class can show that they are ready for the phones again, the school may bring them back out. It just depends on the school administration.
A slow, stretched description of a part in the movie Brave
As I walk in, I cast my eyes across the building. It was quite shabby, with dirt laying all over the floor. I see that candles are located symmetrically on sections of rock around the room, finding their places surrounded in a small group. Laying in the middle of the floor over a fire, was a large, round, black cauldron.
I jumped as it flashed a light green glow around the room. It fumed and the crackling of the fire underneath was a bit unsettling. “Does this old little witch really know what she’s doing? This witch seems out of her mind and she’s not helping her cause”. She starts shouting and rambling something about “The last time I did this, it was for a prince”. Her crow flies to a beam and lands on it. It begins to squawk, “Easy on the eyes”. Picking up from where she left off the old lady began rambling again ,“He demanded I give him the strength of ten men and he gave me this (She brought forth a beautiful stone ring with a double axe sign on it) “...for a spell. A spell that would change his fate”. “And did he get what he was after..”?
The witch pulled the ring back as if she thought that I was about to take it. “Yes, and made off with an especially attractive mahogany cheese board,” the witch said. Then, the crow let out a loud squawked.”Now what do I have,owh” (the the witch dove into a pile of stuff and grabbed two little seeds and throw them in to the cauldron.) The cauldron began to fill with black smoke. The witch hurriedly got on her hands and knees and grabbed a weed to throw into the cauldron. A puff of blue smoke emanated from the pot, then, I flenched. The crow flung itself at me. With its grasping claws the crow grabbed a strand of my hair and handed it to the witch who dropped it in the cauldron which made the liquid turn from a bright blue to a dark red. As the mixture changed colors the witch grabbed a metal spoon and stirred the liquid in the cauldron. The crow landed on his perch by the cauldron. the witch pulled out the spoon and the end of the spoon was gone. it had melted in the cauldron. The witch tossed the the metal rod that was once the handle for the spoon across the room. The rod landed with a loud clanking sound. She grabbed a metal mask instead and put it over her face. She grabed another and put it on the crow. The witch looked over at me after she added a powder to the cauldron. She noticed that I didn't have a mask to protect my face so she shoves her hand in my face and shove me away from the blast. The room filled with a bright light then it went away.
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