Personal Narrative- Curiosity and Me
How many people wonder about holes in the ceiling and cracks on the floor? When did they happen? What caused them? Or what about when you see a cigarette in the toilet and wonder who had the guts to smoke in the girl's bathroom that day and why they chose that brand of cigarette, or why they even smoke at all. And even if people do think about these things, why? For what purpose? I guess I do it out of boredom. But is boredom really an excuse? I mean, really, how bored can a person get? I don't guess it is boredom after all, probably curiosity, which can build to all sorts of lengths, and I believe it most certainly starts there. How else can you explain why I want to know what happened to a certain somebody when a certain somebody else, punches them in the eye? I am almost positive it stems from curiosity and, that is where and how I try to make sense of this story.
It begins on a nice hot July morning, with birds singing and flowers in full bloom; ok, not really. But how awesome would it be if it worked out that way. It really would put something beautiful into this mesh of words. Actually it really didn't have a starting place, but starting people. A band. All the people in this band and all the people that surrounded this band were a part of my life for almost eight months. I don't really understand why, but at first I really did enjoy hanging out with these people. I guess maybe because they were 'cool', but I mean we never really did anything cool. So basically we sat around pretending to be cool, because we were considered cool. Or maybe it was just the others that were considered cool. I really don't know, but pretending to be cool was just not all that cool to me. I don't understand how people can hang out with the same people day in and day out, just to belong. I did for so long, but I really can't tell you why, It reminds me of a song. One of those songs you know all the words to but don't know the name of it or who sings it, you know?
The poem, We Real Cool, by Gwendolyn Brooks speaks through the voice of a young clique who believes it is “real cool.” Using slang and simple language to depict the teenage voice in first person, Brooks’s narrators explain that they left school to stay out together late at night, hanging around pool halls, drinking, causing trouble, and meeting girls. Their lifestyle, though, will ultimately lead them to die at a young age. But, despite an early death, the narrator expresses that they are “real cool” because of this risky routine. Through her poem, Brooks’s shows the ironic consequence of acting “cool”: it leads to death.
In “We Real Cool,” by Gwendolyn Brooks, one can almost visualize a cool cat snapping his fingers to the beat, while she is reading this hip poem. Her powerful poem uses only a few descriptive words to conjure up a gang of rebellious teens. Brooks employs a modern approach to the English language and her choice of slang creates a powerful jazz mood. All of the lines are very short and the sound on each stop really pops. Brooks uses a few rhymes to craft an effective sound and image of the life she perceives. With these devices she manages to take full control of her rhyme and cultivates a morally inspiring poem.
Every child is a curious child who seeks answers to satisfy their curiosity. James curiosity made him ask his mother questions that she never really answered. For example, “I began to notice something about my mother, that she looked nothing like the other kids’ mothers” (McBride 12). Here James noticed
I wake up in my small bed rolling right off of it, groaning and brush my teeth dragging myself down to the kitchen, not even bothering to brush my brown mane of curly hair or change out of the blue ‘Panic! At the Disco’ jacket that I’ve been wearing for two days straight. I go downstairs to eat breakfast and my ‘loving’ father greets me by yelling at me and saying that I don’t deserve to eat anything. I sigh at my Dad’s fatherly tone and grab my black ‘My Chemical Romance’ beanie that holds down my curly brown locks. I love how my curly bangs hung over my brown eyes. I love looking over the city because it makes me feel like I’m dominating over everyone else. I walk to the city bus. Fancy… There were a lot of people on the bus. There was a smelly fat guy who kept eating
middle of paper ... ... Our curiosity is what makes our interactions interesting and entertaining. As members of society, it is our innate ability to wander further than what we have in front of us. We want to impose our opinions on everything.
In 1944, Jorge Luis Borges published “The Secret Miracle”, a short story describing Jaromir Hladik, a Jew living in the Second World War. Jaromir Hladik is taken away by the Germans to a jail by the Germans to be executed shortly after. While in jail, he ponders on all the ways he could be killed and later realizes that he still has yet to finish his play “The Enemies”. He prays to God, begging for a year to be granted to him so that he can complete his last masterpiece. In a dream, he is granted that year. When the Germans pull the trigger, the world freezes for a full year so he can finish his play. At a first glance, “The Secret Miracle” appears to be merely a fictioness story. However, Borges included so much of his own life in the character of Jaromir Hladik that the story no longer seems to be so made up. “Borges writing was impelled and shaped by experience” (Williamson 296). Borges grew up loving books from the very start of his life. His father was always a reader, so he had a room set up like a library that housed hundreds of books. Borges also grew up in a family with colorful war history, which allowed him to be introduced to interesting stories early on. At the age of 56, he was completely blind, causing him to see literature in a different way. He no longer thought literature was a reality. For instance, he believed that although an apple is called an “apple”, it may not actually have that name. Yet he continues to write in this unreality for he feels that it is a writer’s duty to speak out against Juan Peron through literature. In spite of Borges’ belief that literature is not reality, there is evidence of Borges’ life embedded in it which clearly shape the issues and concerns of his work.
This report aims to investigate the different views held on the pros and cons of development in stem cell research. This report will provide background to the debate, its social significance, parties that are involved and analysis of the arguments related to the topic researched.
Marshall, E. (1998). Use of Stem Cells Still Legally Murky. Retrieved January 20, 2005, from Ebsco host research center.
...taphorical Beer-goggles. We believe what we want to believe. We accept what is comfortable as is, and anything else we disregard as false and or imaginary. Borges' stories are masterfully written to capture this particular aspect of the human character. whether it be a simple defense mechanism, a genius cerebral accomplishment passed down through evolution, or our greatest weakness, a self-induced, self-created mental heroin, or an odd combination of the three, it reflects our dreams, and gives us a sense of reality acceptable to us. And, thus, we can move in this world each day, we get out of bed, dress ourselves, carry on what is now a pathetic excuse for existence, because we have those dreams, that will come true, that will bring satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment. What privilege we have, to, at any time, be able to substitute our Hell for our Heaven...
Curiosity is a personality trait that everyone has in some way or another throughout their whole life. How it is defined, however, is up for debate. Many people consider curiosity to be simply a desire to learn and know, but scholars tend to take the meaning deeper. George Loewenstein (1994) describes curiosity as the attraction to information that “confers no extrinsic benefit,” so people tend to delve more deeply into things than would serve to help them somehow. To define it in a more distinctive manner from other traits such as novelty-seeking, one may say curiosity is a, “positive emotional-motivational system associated with the recognition, pursuit, and self-regulation of novel and challenging opportunities” (Kashdan 2004). Researchers
Reading and writing has always played a vital part in my life. From toddler to adult, pre-elementary to college, I’ve managed to sharpen both skills to my liking. However, even though it significantly helped, schooling was not what influenced me to continue developing those skills into talent. Many different things shaped and influenced my learning, and now reading and writing have become the safety net of my life. I know that even if I have nothing else in the future, I’ll still have my talent and knowledge. To ensure my success, I hope to further develop those skills so that I may fulfill my wishes.
How many people wonder about holes in the ceiling and cracks on the floor? When did they happen? What caused them? Or what about when you see a cigarette in someone’s hand and ask yourself how do they feel about smoking even though they know it’s dangerous. And even if people do think about these things, why? For what purpose? I guess I do it out of boredom. But is boredom really an excuse? I mean, really, how bored can a person get? I don't believe it is boredom after all, probably curiosity, which can build to all sorts of lengths, and I believe it most certainly starts there. How else can you explain why I want to know what happened to a certain somebody when a certain somebody else, punches them in the eye? I am almost positive it isn’t boredom, but curiosity and that is where and how I try to make sense of this story.
Growing up, I always felt out of place. When everyone else was running around in the hot, sun, thinking of nothing, but the logistics of the game they were playing. I would be sat on the curb, wondering what it was that made them so much different from me. To me, it was if they all knew something that I didn’t know, like they were all apart of some inside joke that I just didn’t get. I would sit, each day when my mind wasn’t being filled with the incessant chatter of my teachers mindlessly sharing what they were told to, in the hot, humid air of the late spring and wonder what I was doing wrong. See, my discontent
Nasution, AB 2001, ‘The transition to democracy: Lessons from the tragedy of Konstituante in Crafting Indonesian Democracy’, Mizan Media Utama, Jakarta, ISBN 979-433-287-9
I am sentimental, out-going, indecisive, understanding, curious, naive, lazy, and young. I want to be ... , well a lot of things, and growing is discovering what they are. I feel people cannot see the potential within, although there is no one to blame but myself. I look to others for approval instead of to myself. I aim to please; it leads to approval. I don’t like to discuss my faults; I pity myself.