I don’t like writing about myself, I special don’t like writing about something that is deeply personal to me. I like my privacy, but I have to compromise. There is one story, a story I have never shared in writing or in it’s entirety. Like most stories it has people, and like most Shakespearean romances it has a girl. But this is not a love story, it’s a story of my struggle. How much do I share or how little do I tell. I’m uncertain on what to say and how to say. Being an emotional story, but having a discomfort in expressing myself, especially to the unknown, I’m in conflict on how to write. Also I don’t want to write a cliche break up, teenage love story, but it’s the best story I have. It’s also the longest story I have, it’s so long that …show more content…
How many of us, how many jealous? Those are the intro lines to Kanye West’s Real Friends, and those are the lines I think of in connection to what I did. What started off as a simple confession to her lead to an unregretful sin. I trusted her, she was my one of my closest friends. I told her how I felt about another girl. She was a very close friend of ours. She then revealed how she felt about me. I told her how I had felt about her. We both realized that we felt a certain way for each other, but that nothing could manifest. We agreed that it was pretty to ignore our feelings, but that didn’t happen. Our relationship became a secret even from our closest friends. But that didn’t help me cope with the guilt I …show more content…
I felt like Cain when he envied Abel. I didn’t kill, but I had ended our friendship and I wasn’t banished for my crime, I think that was the worst of it. I felt like OJ, facing no punishment. But had karama has no grace. In almost the same manner I had betrayed my friend she betrayed me. She blamed me, said she took pity on me and that she didn’t want to be with me but return to the side of my friend. I then understood why people say the express “thrown under the bus”, because it feels like your heart was being rolled over by an immensely large object the size of a bus. What do you do when the love turns to hate. When trust is lost in your most trustful friend. I didn’t want revenge, I just wanted to erase her from my life. She became invisible to me. I didn’t want to be near her, say her name or hear her name. Everyday after that day I would wake up with a type of morning sickness. I didn’t have the a desire to eat and felt nauseated. This went on for months till I finally visited the doctor, but he told me I was physically fine and that the most probable cause was stress or something in my daily morning routine. I told him I wasn’t stress at all, but I lied. I didn’t want anyone to know that the stress of the situation and me not knowing how to deal with it or cope with it had made me cringe. This continued till the end of the year and that is how me junior
I began a study of autobiography and memoir writing several years ago. Recently I discovered two poets who believe that recording one’s place in history is integral to their art. Carol Muske and Joy Harjo are renowned poets who explore the intricacies of self in regards to cultural and historical place. Muske specifically addresses the poetics of women poets, while Harjo addresses the poetics of minority, specifically Native American, writers. Both poets emphasize the autobiographical nature of poetry. Muske and Harjo regard the self as integral to their art. In this representation of self, Muske and Harjo discuss the importance of truth-telling testimony and history in their poetics. Muske says, “…testimony exists to confront a world beyond the self and the drama of the self, even the world of silence—or the unanswerable…” (Muske 16).
Everyone has insecurities and sometimes it makes them hate themselves. When you are insecure and your soul is dying, you shouldn’t hide it to yourself. Seek help, ask for help, turn to get help and find someone who will always be there to help you. Don’t let your insecurities control you and make you forget who you really are and what you can accomplish. In 145th Street Short Stories , the author Walter Dean Myers explores the theme of insecurity using literary techniques such as conflict and flashbacks in the short stories, “Fighter” and “Kitty and Mack: A Love Story.”
Writing is generally referred to as being a hard to endure, long-lasting task, but my practice has changed and improved over the duration of this course. The choice to write these types of stories stemmed from my interactions with young women who had given up on life because they felt no cared about them or those who had become completely emotionless so that they wouldn’t be taken advantage of again. In a paper for Creative Research Journal, Charlotte Doyle writes, “Like other creative endeavours, the creative process in fiction writing is a voyage of discovery but differs from most other arts in one of its major modes of thoughts- narrative improvisation, a non-reflective mode that typically involves stances in a fiction world from viewpoints different from one’s own” (1998). The general advice given to writers is to write what they know; emotional abuse is something I know a little about from experience. Transferring that knowledge into a narrative that would appeal to readers in a way that would allow them empathize with those women was my
Record your decision to forgive, or tell a significant person in your life. Write a letter to the who hurt you & tell him or her exactly the way you were wronged. Include your new narrative that tells your transformed story. The repair steps may or may not restore the relationship. Lots of other factors will decide that outcome.
Most people find that there is no one that knows you better than you know yourself. We know our hopes, wishes and dreams better than anyone else, even our own parents, and we know what we are willing to do to get them. I chose to write about myself for this very reason. I believe that I know myself well enough to be able to analyze myself and understand why I am the way that I am.
...was a friendly person and this individual was her friend and had been so for two years.
In Narrative Four we did not necessarily share with the class, even though the stories were told to everyone, instead they were given to our partners. Our partners told our stories, ones that defined us, or impacted us, from our point of view, going so far as to introduce themselves as us. The result for me was very surreal, it felt as if the story was no longer truly mine. Part of that was in a way therapeutic,allowing me to view the story from a different angle and in a sense, let
I, Nathan Drake, a veteran treasure hunter living my dreams to be a normal human being for once. I have been all over the world facing the unexpected and gathering mysterious treasures to my collection. I am an expert at deep sea salvage, from fist fights to shooting with guns, I have been an expert since my childhood. Well, at least that is what I was expected to learn since treasure hunting runs in my family. My older brother Samuel Drake, who is also a treasure hunter, who in a sense knows the dark world of voyage and adventure a little better than me. Since my childhood, he`s been stealing goods to support me and raise me because we are the only people alive from our family and there is no one who would look after me. This is me talking
Although this story was fiction I felt it expressed a lot of real life events that brings the story to life. This story showed how our personal pasts can be inventions of our im...
The answer to this is very simple; I am ignorant when it comes to both exploring and writing about myself. On the surface it may appear like I know who I am; I know what foods I like and don’t like, I know what clothes
I've never written before,well not on this scale,at least! I don't know what gave me the urge to tell my story,possibly the fact that I am currently out of work and a bit bored. Maybe this is my new job.....writing? That will be up to you good people out there if you buy my book! First and foremost,let's make one thing clear!
She had been sick for a few months in a hospital but one day I got home from school, and everyone was sad. Immediately that was when I knew she died. I didn’t ask for details because I didn’t want to know. I do know
Mineko Iwasaki once said, “Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime.” When the topic of betrayal is discussed, it is usually described in terms of marriage vows, friendships, or work relationships. These types of betrayals are undeniably heart wrenching and can have a direct effect on a person’s life. Betrayal can make you feel as though you were slapped in the face, punched in the gut, or kicked in the groin all at the same time. The funny thing about it is that you can never be betrayed by someone or something you already know may not have the best intentions for you or your heart. One of life’s many lessons is to learn how to get through something such as betrayal, whether you need to pray for the strength
We had been best friends for a little over three years now and at this point, we shared every story, every secret, everything in our lives. I remember the first day we met how we already clicked with each other. I made a bad joke and she laughed so hard at me that she lost her balance and fell on the grass. Since then, my sense of humor kept improving as I spent more time with her. We studied after school together, got detention together. We went to lunch at the cafeteria where
We were both in belief that we were ignoring the other person. At the time it was very immature, but the only way to learn is from your mistakes. As a continuation from the situation, we kept ignoring each other in school and refused to text one another. I remember feeling so badly about the problem, not knowing what I did wrong. I just continued to go to school and did not let it change my behavior or grades. I did not want to confront her because remaining quiet seemed like the easiest decision to make. Remaining quiet meant for a guarantee for no argument or awkwardness which is what I was aiming for. It was not until a few weeks later I finally decided to go up to her and speak to her. We ended up laughing because we realized we were both just being petty and immature for the same