It was 10.30pm when all of us got together as one to start the jouney from the fort bus stand. We were excited when the bus started moving and couldn't wait to reach the destination. It was all misty on the way and all we knew is that we are going to have a great time. The bus driver didn't stop exactly where we wanted to get down.
Over Spring Break, my family traveled to Eureka Springs, Arkansas to visit my family that reside in Kansas. Eureka Spring is an amazing town nestled in the Ozark Mountains. On our way, we visited the Precious Moments Chapel and saw a replica of the resurrection of Christ. In Eureka Springs, they have a play performed in the summer called the Passion Play and they also have replica of the resurrection of Christ and the theater is set to look like Bethlehem. Seeing all of these things sparked good conversation with my 12-year-old son, but it also brought back some sad and troublesome memories for myself.
We head off to college. As Liam and I are heading to college we are talking about what we want to do when we get older. And Liam tells me that he wants to travel the world and make adventures. And I tell Liam that I want to also travel the world and become a writer. Music starts playing and we start jamming out to the music. We get to college and we have to go to orientation. They split the freshman into groups and Liam and I are in the same orientation group.
Even in my shame, I cannot feel remorse for what Christopher and I did. His lovemaking was so passionate yet gentle, that I could not escape the volcanic eruption of emotions I felt as we made love- and, the things he said to me- done to me! He said he wanted to taste me- his mouth explored every inch of me- just thinking about it gives way to this burning desire I feel for him- A want and need that is so deeply carnal, so lustful that it is not rational. Remembering how his mouth kissed mine, how it suckled the tender, throbbing rosebuds of my breasts… how his warm breath felt as his lips brushed against my thighs… Wave after pleasurable wave of passion, left me weak, drained of physical strength, yet, fulfilled; it was a most pleasurable
An infamously lifelong agnostic, he discovered something. The man looked into the sky that morning. He watched the enchanting metamorphosis of the plethora of colors. It started with a dark navy blue. The first rays of rosy-cheeked Dawn combined with it to create a splendid magenta and then went into a phase of marigold. She continued her transformation into the color of the Tuscan sun and finally, back to the cerulean blue sky.
I clenched my stomach as we drove down the road. My eyes focused on one star in the sky, I knew if I pulled my eyes away my insides would be out and exposed to everyone. My cheeks stung from tears and my breaths were short as we drove to my church. as we pulled up it took me a while to open the car door, my hands were shaky and weak. friends hugged me and cried as I buried my head into their shoulders, the little light of hope I had left in my heart was burning out and I could feel it. I could see it as the storm clouds rolled in, as the thunder crashed and almost echoed my feelings in the sky. I felt vulnerable to life for the first time that night. As I descended down the stairs to join the rest of the group that was meeting to pay I heard
Hero’s Journey Narative Dreams, dreams, dreams a concept that people still cannot understand yet encounter every time they close their eyes with their warm grasp of their cotton blanket and count Mary’s little lambs. Soon, they drift off to deep slumber like how a bear sleeps during hibernation and dream of various things. Some may dream of sweets and happiness, some may dream of gold and wealth, and some others have ‘special dreams’ and our hero is one of them. Our soon to be hero sleeps in her small yet comfortable bed with her dog by her side snoring softly. The hero dreams of a nightmare filled with clouds of smog and flames consuming a town whole and as the flames burned and burned, cries and prayers of the villagers could be heard from
The Nine Lives A hero’s journey is an adventure a person takes to improve himself or herself and his or her inner being. Many times the journey comes unexpectedly but other times it is a step one should take as they begin to grow up. There are three stages that take place in this journey; the separation, initiation and transformation, and the return. The heroine of this journey is a 35-year old woman from New York City. Her journey begins in her townhouse that is on the upper east side of the city that never sleeps.
Glory be to our Lord Christ Jesus! A pleasant good day to each and every one of you, who have graced us with your presence throughout our process of grief; we (Randolph’s family) want you to be cognizant that your noble efforts have not gone unseen and they are very much appreciated. We promulgate high accolades to the NYPD officers, Senator, Governor, and Mayor for their continual support and deeds of altruism. As it pertains to Randolph, our beloved, our beloved Randolph! He was a person that everyone who knew him could attest of him being dependable and enduring of fulfilling most of his promises; he was a person of quiet resolve (inner strength). Make no mistake of this quietness, in no way does it represents timidnes, however, on the
The Hero’s Journey is something that every human being goes through whether they realize it or not. We all go through different obstacles, some being more difficult than others, but at the end of the day we are all connected by the Hero’s Journey. We start with the separation stage, move on to the initiation stage, and then end up in the return stage. I myself have just gone through a cycle of the Hero’s Journey, when I happened to get my first B in a class, AP Spanish Language.
Well today my friends and I was issued a challenge, by a mysterious challenger. No one at my table was going to take the challenge , but I spoke up at the last moment. It was me.. All the challenge was to cut off his head and if he survived, he could do the same to you. Of course it was random but I didn’t want to seem weak in front of my friends. I chopped his head off with a single swipe and I and his head fell off. I laughed a little bit after it.. but that all changed when he leaned over and picked his head back up after it being off his ..body. I was terrified because I know my fate was sealed at that moment. He said to meet me at the green chapel in a years time and one day. I set out for my adventure after saying my good byes. I just rode straight not knowing where to go
- “In Europe there are mixed opinions , some people are scared specifically of young men like you, who are travelling alone. There are a lot of people who say … you are coming to do problems in Europe, they are generally afraid of you,” Al Jazeera Journalist, Hoda Abdel-Hamid, asked a 27-year-old Iraqi refugee to response. - “I don’t think someone who travels all this way here, risking his own life, comes to cause problems. [He] is going to a country that recognizes his identity, humanity, his life and makes him feel he is a human being with rights.