Travis Allen 523 words 9100 St. Charles Rock Road St. Louis, MO 63114 (314) 493-6100 email@example.com There seems to be a problem by Travis Allen It 's 4:00 am, my bed feels something like a cloud but less wet, laying facing the ceiling wondering if I will ever serve as a greater purpose other than grow up, get a job, get married, have a nice family, then die, you know the usual, none the less it still scares me knowing that one day I will die and no one will remember me or that I ever existed. Feelings of sadness soon swarm my mind until the alarm clock suddenly went off at 4:30 am which could only mean one thing;
Welcome, Ladies and gentlemen, Gary, or Gary Dunn,to give him his Sunday name, or if he was in trouble, which was a lot, when he was younger, but most just called him Gary. Gary was a son, a brother, big and little, he was a boyfriend then a husband, a dad and a granddad too, but he was also a friend, and he was definitely a bit of a lad. Gary had been many different things to many different people over the years, but today they all have, at least, one thing in common, they will all miss him very much. Gary was a real character, what you saw, with Gary, was what you got, and if you didn’t like it, well, tough, but he was also a loving family man, a dependable man, and a hard working man too, he would never do you a bad turn, but don’t hold your breath waiting for
The room is spinning. It’s hard to get a good look and what or even where the scene is taking place. Finally, the revolution ends on a face. Not a remarkable face. Just an average looking guy in his early twenties with a short brown fair and sad eyes. When the average guy speaks, a moderate Southern drawl tinges his voice.
“I know that in writing the following pages I am divulging the great secret of my life, the secret which for some years I have guarded far more carefully than any of my earthly possessions; and it is a curious study to me to analyze the motives which prompt me to do it. I feel that I am led by the same impulse which forces the un-found-out criminal to take somebody into his confidence, although he knows that the act is likely, even almost certain, to lead to his undoing. I know that I am playing with fire, and I feel the thrill which accompanies that most fascinating pastime; and, back of it all, I think I find a sort of savage and diabolical desire to gather up all the little tragedies of my life, and turn them into a practical joke on society”
I very rarely think in words at all. A thought prevails and I may try to express it in words afterwards, but the words are never there to begin with. But sometimes if I’m lucky, I can identify the thought bubble almost instantaneously with what I like to call “special transmitters”. You see, each thought shape has a different feel – sometimes the thoughts are quiet as a mouse, and sometimes it is loud and thunderous. Sometimes it sounds like it is close by, and sometimes it sounds further off.
Hello friends. My name is Sam Worcester, however most people call me by my superhero name: ThinkSafe. Not many people can say that they have saved the world but I can. I have saved the world, and this is my story. Starting when I was just a regular 12 year old boy back in 1989, growing up in the great state of Arizona. Not much happened there, but I did manage to find some adventure going into the Grand Canyon when I could. My parents always told me to be safe, which I was. One day as I was touring a seemingly deserted area, I had stumbled upon a cave. I guess I had wandered off too far because I had no clue where I was, but that didn't mat-ter, I always liked exploring new parts and I always marked where I had been. This cave was strange there were symbols on the wall that were glowing.
Ahh, I need better work! Phillip Jones is so lousy! He always is using the eraser on the other end of his pencil! I am so much better than that tiny thing! It is just un...be...lievable! Why did he have to push so hard? It is...ju...st...not...ne...ed...ed.
I met Eddie Lacy on August 8. It was family fun night, and I was with my friends. I asked for his autograph and he said yea but I didn’t have a sharpe and neither did he so I asked him he said yea. I got it on a Packer football. I was so happy that he said yes.
A tiny voice asked, “Is he the one?” “Of course, he has to be the one,” It began. “He can see things a regular human could never comprehend,” It droned. “He can also comprehend the most mind-boggling mysteries to mankind.” “What great power wasted on a little boy, I just hope She will be happy.
It was a while before the last stroke ceased vibrating. It stayed in the air, more felt than heard, for a long time. Like all the bells that ever rang still ringing in the long dying light-rays and Jesus and Saint Francis talking about his sister. Because if it were just to hell; if that were all of it. Finished. If things just finished themselves. Nobody else there but her and me. If we could just have done something so dreadful that they would have fled hell except us. I have committed incest I said Father it was I it was not Dalton Ames And when he put Dalton Ames. Dalton Ames. Dalton Ames. When he put the pistol in my hand I didn’t. That’s why I didn’t. He would be there and she would and I would. Dalton Ames. Dalton Ames. Dalton Ames.
It is a time of our lives that many hold cherished to their hearts and share with generations anew and is represented by those slippers. However, those memories and feeling might be the only purpose that the slippers hold. Upon further look of the film, it can be determined that