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Never Pure
Sometimes I wake up, and just hope that everything is fake, that nothing is really real. I sit and hope that if I focus for long enough, the whole world will become a black abyss. But it never is. Nothing ever stops. Life never stops for the ones who need it the most. So some people end their life. Others continue to live, but in agony. Or they hide their emotions from the world. But one thing is certain, no one is completely happy, ever.
Chapter One: Nobody’s perfect, right? Wrong. At least, that’s what the media wants us to all think. Why else would everyone with flaws be isolated from society? To keep the rest of the population “pure”. Well, most of the population isn’t “pure” at this point since they’ll send
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A word I commonly associate this place with. Why am I even in here? I wasn’t the one to stab my best friend or light my house on fire. Well, since my mom, dad, and sister were killed by my brother, I got stuck in here too. It all happened when I was six. Then I got released around age ten. Except, my brother hated our foster family. Mostly the part that we had to live with them even though he was over the age of eighteen. So he tried to drive us all off a bridge, which failed. And that made me once again a possible threat. So I got stuck in here at age eleven and have been in this place ever since.
“Alexx, medicine.” The same monotone voice called out as every day. During my first stay here, everything was done willingly. I was so young to know that I wasn’t supposed to be here, that I didn’t belong here. I ate the food, followed curfew, stayed out of fights, made the right friends, but most importantly took the medicine. They give us anti-depressants and injections and pills to help us. The second time they brought me here, I was so depressed and tired I just gave in and took everything. The thing they didn’t know was that when my brother tried to drive us over, I kind of wanted him to succed. Part of me was so fed up with life I just almost wanted to die. Once I finally regained my strength, they struggled to get me to take the smallest dose of medicine. I vowed to not willingly take
Society longs for a perfect model to show how humanity should be. Throughout history, perfection has been looked for in gods and other-worldly beings, yet never in humans. Perhaps this is because perfection is subjective and unattainable. Each person can have their own idea of what makes someone perfect, which can make the most ideal person, imperfect. One simple flaw can be seen as imperfect. Despite that, with the advancement of technology and media, people try to become perfect through surgeries and other, more damaging, processes. In “The Birthmark” by Nathaniel Hawthorne, a scientist believes that the removal of his wife’s birthmark can make her perfect, or rather, his idea of perfect. Hawthorne uses symbolism, foreshadowing, and dark romantic ideals to say that while attempting to be perfect, you can be hurting yourself or others.
Zero awoke to find himself standing, it was not something he was familiar with and he searched his memory for any recollection of it happening before. Quickly he discovered that large parts of his memory were missing, gone were the seemingly endless data bases of information. Quickly he sent out feelers trying for a connection of some sort but he drew a blank. It seemed that where ever he was now, had limited connection capacity. Instead he used his visual feed to survey his surrounding, it appeared he was in some kind of desert of discarded parts.
One thing that plays a big role in the image of perfection is the media...
In the short book, Being Perfect by Anna Quindlen, Quindlen shares her wisdom of the term “perfection.” She discusses her personal experience of being “perfect” when she was younger and tries to persuade the readers that being “perfect” is not worth the hardships, but finding and expressing someone’s true personality and character is. Striving for “perfection” can fog people’s mind in acting contrary to their true selves. For example, people begin to expect the ultimate best out of one another and begin to lack the understanding of others. All people should learn to give up the unreachable goal of being flawless because everyone makes mistakes; it is the way in which people handle their mistakes that makes their true personality shine.
Perfection is defined by Webster’s Dictionary as “being entirely without flaws; something that cannot be improved.” In today’s society many people, particularly young women desire to be perfect in their outward appearance. They want the perfect hair, the perfect skin, the perfect body, which so many think would be the perfect life. However, perfection of this kind is very difficult to achieve, yet so many people still want this perfect self-image. This desire for perfection has caused self-hatred within many and this pandemic of perfection is rapidly spreading amongst individuals. The song “Pretty Hurts” by Beyoncé Knowles clearly shows how perfection is truly a disease of a nation. People are faced with the pressure to be perfect in their daily lives, but why? Many individuals feel the need to be perfect because of parental influence, social acceptance and self-conflict.
All it takes is a moment of analyzation to realize this metaphor’s true applicability. Many individuals go through this metaphorical tunnel everyday of their lives. They start at the tunnel's entrance. Looking inside, all they can see is the
To the times where I would be out of work, stressed because I could not provide for myself like I wanted to and had to and unfortunately had to rely on other people. Just having so much heavy stuff and my mind and sometimes crying myself to sleep because everything was going from bad to worse and feeling like nothing good was going to come my way, I knew then something had to give.
she always used to wish for a way to escape her life. She saw memories
In today’s society many children feel discriminated against for not being “perfect”. Though, everyone’s version of “perfect” is different. Years ago society’s version of flawlessness was muscle and being enrolled in athletic programs along with having tan skin. Today’s version of perfection is long hair, exceptionally thin waists, and lengthy legs with high heels to top them off. Another image of perfection is that of a model, girls want their lean faces, high paying jobs, and angelic wings. All women and men alike are being plagued with the desire to take hold of the perfect image, though, they eventually find out it happens to be a false and unhappy image.
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
It had come to the attention of my family that I had some sort of psychological problem and something had to be done. I was always labeled as a shy and quiet kid, and like my family I had thought nothing more of my behavior. However, now it had become something more obvious. I had told my parents the kinds of problems I was having. Basically I didn't want to talk to anyone or to be anywhere near anyone I didn't know. I didn't really want to leave my house for any reason for fear that I might have to talk to someone. I was so critical and scrutinizing in relation to myself that I couldn't even enter into a conversation. Everyone seems to have a part of themselves that lends itself to thoughts of pessimism and failure, but mine was something that was in the forefront of my mind at all times. Something telling me that everything I did was a failure, and that anything I ever did would not succeed. Through discussion with my family it was decided that I should move out of my parents house to a place where I could find treatment and get a job. I was to reside with my sister Lisa, her partner Brynn, and their Saint Bernard in Greensboro.
Unable to triumph, I lost sight of spring’s return and my insecurity grew, resulting in recurrent self harm. I kept everything to myself. Hopelessness and dejection overwhelmed me, and as my thoughts evolved, I felt worthless and desolate. I contemplated death daily and continued to self harm. Finally one night after filming a service at my church, I could not drive home, because I knew that if I did, I would purposely crash the car and receive my final, deserved punishment. That night I finally admitted out loud that there was a more serious issue than I could handle by myself, which lead to my hospitalization at Havenwyck. I lived there for eight days, followed by five outpatient days; all were filled with hard work and therapy, and the snow finally started to
At a young age I was put into foster care. This was something that I would have to say has both its ups and downs. I saw good days and there are other times that I would not see the day at all. I was subjected to abuse, neglect, and even love while in foster care. The reason I was but here is because my mother had too many children and was very abusive. My mother, Rose Brown, was hit by a car at a young age causing her to have several different mental health issues. By the time I was seven my mother had nineteen children. Because of her lack of ability to take care of her children my mother had to put us all in foster care.
I was an orphan as a child, I never knew my Dad; and my Mum died at birth. My foster parents didn't love me, they used me as a tool, just saw me as an extra pair of hands to use around the house. I ran away at the age of sixteen, join...