Filthy College Dorm Room
As I lifted my head, I was greeted by at least fifty naked models, all in various X-rated positions, each eyeing me with an expression that suggested nothing but lust and desire. I stepped into the room, only to be overwhelmed with at least twenty-five more girls stripped of any trace of clothing. Although my legs were begging to walk my sickened body out the door, I brought myself together and looked at the reason I was forcing myself to stay there. I had to pee so badly, and a small, filthy toilet was only a few short steps across the chilled tile floor. My bare feet felt every speck of dirt underneath them, and I laughed at the thought that I respectfully took off my shoes before coming in. The heavy stench of mildew continued to coat my lungs so thickly I was tempted to hold my breath. I focused only on my destination and tried to figure out how anyone, even if they are college freshmen full of testosterone, could turn the walls of their dorm bathroom into a Playboy magazine.
After going about my business, I reached for the brass door-handle that would let me out of the tiny room, which consisted of the toilet, a small shower, a moldy rug, and a trash can that was overflowing with tissues and toilet paper. A few pieces of blue gum were carelessly stuck on top of the heap. I hesitated, however, to let my hand touch the door-handle in fear of what might be living on it. I took the chance and grabbed the smooth metal anyway, turned it as quickly as I could, and stepped out of the bathroom to the sink to wash my potentially diseased hands. Chad, who came with me to Joe's dorm, stood nervously in the living area, his hands hanging onto the rims of his pockets. The porcelain sink, which I am assuming...
... middle of paper ...
...e building, and took a deep breath of fresh air.
Not only did the environment of the dorm appall me, but I was thoroughly shocked that I could be so blind when it came to Joe. My mind flashed to other people in my life, and I thought about how their outside images may easily conceal their true ways. Joe's dorm made me realize that the depictions I have of a person are often misleading or simply untrue. Chad was now just behind me, and Joe was following him. Joe stopped in the doorway. As we proceeded to walk down the hallway, we passed four gray doors, each identical to Joe's.
As we neared the glass doors of the exit, Chad turned around and said to Joe, sarcastically, "Yeah I hope we didn't interrupt you. You weren't tidying up or anything, were you?"
He then replied, as he gradually closed the door, "What are you talking about, man. This place is clean."
The unpolished floors and graffitied lockers with pictures of the Beatles glued to them indicated to me that no summer cleaning had been done at school, for what seemed like several years. As I walked, a neatly folded piece of paper, which I placed in my pocket earlier this morning, grazed my outer thigh was not letting me forget its purpose. My palms were sweaty and all I could think of was that on the first day of school, I had decided to tell my crush that I liked her. What a stupid decision. I decided to wash my hands and then put my plan into action. My walk across the hallway continued till I reached the guy’s bathrooms. Just as I was about to push the door, it opened and out ran a blonde and petite girl. My crush. Her face was surprised and her hazel eyes were
Marriner-Tomey, A., & Alligood, M. R. (2006). Nursing theorists and their work. St. Louis, Mo: Mosby/Elsevier.
It was my first year at the most venerable institution in the world, and my high-school dreams had been achieved. Yet, that fall, I was feeling empty inside. As I drowned my sorrows in a latte at Au Bon Pain near the "T" entrance, I noticed a large crowd gathering outside. I later learned that a short time before, an undergraduate running to the co-op had carelessly knocked a homeless man to the ground. As I looked up from my latte, I saw a homeless man crawling around the sidewalk, yelling something about being
"Where's the cigarettes?" she asked. We all sat there, looking dumbfounded, and wishing it were only cigarettes because the consequences for that were less severe. She stood at the door for a few minutes, staring at us with a look of complete disappointment on her face, before walking out the door, shutting it behind her.
McEwen, M., & Wills, E. (2011). Theoretical Basis for Nursing (3 ed.). Philadelphia, PA: Lippincott, Williams & Wilkins.
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
I looked around, the room had exposed pipes on the ceiling and the entire room smelled faintly of Clorox wipes. Around me girls and boys talked and caught up. The majority of them had apparently gone to Kindergarten together. While I was the new kid, the outsider. Seats were scarce. I looked for a familiar face, for some reason. I settled next to a girl with fiery red-orange hair. “Hi, I’m Halley.” She introduced herself. Her smile was the fake kind, seen in school pictures everywhere. I smiled and responded, “Hi, I’m Lorna. I just moved here from Texas.” Her smile became increasingly forced, “Um, cool.” She turned her body away from me. Ok, I though, sorry I offended you, I guess. In my head, I was sneering and thinking rude thoughts to no end. In class, however, I upheld my morals. I was silent for the rest of the
Otis sat at his tattered corner booth, the pale pink and teal upholstery ripped and worn by all those who had rested there before him. His charcoal-grey hair was oily and unkept as if he hadn’t known the pleasure of a shower or a comb since his early days in the war. His once green army jacket, faded to a light grey, covered the untucked, torn, and sweat-stained Goodwill T-shirt under it. He wore an old pair of denim blue jeans that were shredded in the knees and rested three inches above his boney ankles; exposing the charity he depended upon. His eyes, filled with loneliness and despair as if he had realized a lack of purpose in his life, were set in bags of black and purple rings two layers deep. His long, slender nose was set above a full crooked mouth with little lines at the corners giving his face the character of someone who used to smile often, but the firm set of his square jaw revealed a portrait of a man who knew only failure.
Since its launch in the mid '90s, Dell's e-commerce business has been a poster child for the benefits of online sales, says Aberdeen Group analyst Kent Allen. The company's strategy of selling over the Internet -- with no retail outlets and no middleman -- has been as discussed, admired and imitated as any e-commerce model. Dell's online sales channel has proven so successful, says Allen that the computer industry must ask: "Does the consumer need to go to the store to buy a PC anymore?"
Seven thirty in the morning, confused, and gazing at my first experience of college I had no idea what this semester would have in store for me. Within the second story of Vawter Hall about fifty to a hundred students are crowding the hall awaiting the arrival of their professors. I was no different; unlike these other chatty energetic individuals I was alone, and desperate to get this first day over with. At eight o’clock bells chime through the building and the students have now dwindled down to those who I will later come to know as classmates and those few who had overslept on the first day. Eight fifteen, the little crowd starts to stir; the professor has still yet to arrive. Around eight twenty a woman with short cut hair arrives in a hurried manner, clearly upset to have arrived after her students. However, to her surprise, and those of her students, the door was
Potter, P. A., & Perry, A. G. (2009). Fundamentals of nursing (Seventh ed.). St. Louis, Mo.: Mosby Elsevier.
As soon as he was comfortable, someone buzzed the outside gate, “Now, who can be out there now?” Andrew said, checking the front gate.
“The closet. What’s wrong with the closet? Why did they see me going to the closet? When did they see me going to the closet? But why me? Why do I sleep walk to the closet? What is the problem of sleepwalking to the closet?,” thought Jame as he was walking to the principal’s office to get questioned. He shivered. He had a bad feeling, and his bad feelings never told lies.
Setia, P, Venkatesh, V, &Joglekar, S (2013).'LEVERAGING DIGITAL TECHNOLOGIES: HOW INFORMATION QUALITY LEADS TO LOCALIZED CAPABILITIES AND CUSTOMER
I think we all have a beautiful place in our mind. I have a wonderful place that made me happy a lot of times, years ago. But sometimes I think that I am the only person who likes this place and I'm asking myself if this place will be as beautiful as I thought when I will go back to visit it again. Perhaps I made it beautiful in my mind.