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
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
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
It was a cold October afternoon in 1996, and I raced down the stairs and out the front door, in an attempt to avoid my mother's questions of where I was going, with whom, and when I'd be back. I saw my friend Kolin pull up in his rusted, broken-down gray van, and the side door opened as Mark jumped out and motioned for me to come. I was just about to get in when my mother called from the front doorway. She wanted to talk to me, but I didn't want to talk to her, so I hopped in pretending I hadn't heard her and told Kolin to drive off.
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.
When someone tells a story it can be for several reasons, to inform, to entertain, or to communicate. The Canterbury tales, a fictitious collection of stories written,by Geoffrey Chaucer, depicts its main characters values and personalities through the stories they tell. Humans of New York, a project started by Brandon Stanton, asks people to share real stories about themselves and these stories can be incredibly powerful, often leading to readers facing a fact that they may not always want to believe, everyone is human and go through the same emotions and struggles as they do. Our class experienced this for ourselves, learning our peer’s stories and in turn sharing our own. Our project with Narrative four, however, took it a step further
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!
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...
...was a friendly person and this individual was her friend and had been so for two years.
It seemed like a normal day when I entered Mrs. A’s AP Language and Composition class, but little did I know that she was going to assign a very important project that was going to take forever. I took my seat and wrote down what was on the board. Then I sat patiently and waited for Mrs. A to come explain what we were doing today. When the tardy bell rang, Mrs. A glided into the room and gave us all a stack of papers. She then proceeded to discuss our upcoming assignment, a memoir. As she explained the very important assignment, I wondered whom I would write about. No one really came to mind to write about and I thought for sure I would never be able to get this thing done on time. I finally decided that I would write in on my mother, Kari Jenson. I knew I would probably put the project off until the very end and do it the weekend before even though it would get on my mom’s nerves. Putting work off was just how I did everything, it worked for me. When I arrived home from school that day, I told mom about the project. I told her I would most likely write it about her and she was overjoyed.
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
When you’re young, you don’t care about how a person looks or acts, they’re just people, friends. Growing up, you’ll find that qualities a friend has to have or can’t have become very important. It took a special kind of friend to show me that the true heart of a person is what really counts.
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
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
Three years of friendship and I am letting it all go down into the drain for a stupid secret that is not even mine . I looked at her straight in the eye and still lied because I did not dare to choose between my father and my best friend.