Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I Believe Paper
I believe in second chances. I believe in realizing that what you have is sacred and should always be cherished. I believe in no regrets and I believe in new beginnings. A person goes through life making many mistakes, big or small. It’s just human nature. We don’t learn anything unless we make those mistakes that teach us right from wrong. With all those wrong doings, having regrets isn’t necessary because you will still learn something from them.
Every morning I wake up early, tired, grumpy, just wanting to be left alone so I can tranquilly get ready for school. I prefer my parents not talk to me much in the morning because I am just not in a good mood when I’m tired. When they do, even though they are being joyful and grateful to start a new day, I become irritated. On the way to school, I will listen to my iPod with my volume loud enough so that I won’t hear when my parents talk to me. I would say it is just a part of being a teenager, being independent from your parents. But at the same time, I realize I am not quite appreciating the fact that they are trying to make the best of their day.
By the time I get to school, I am just glad to be out of the car and with my friends. The rest of the day I am a happy camper. But on the ride home, I fall asleep, not wanting to be bothered by anyone again. When I get home, I am in a bad mood from being sleepy and again I don’t interact with my parents.
In my book, Chick was always shooting for his father’s approval, ignoring the fact that his mother was actually the more loving and caring parent. She loved him no matter what he did and only wanted the best for him. He didn’t appreciate it though. When he finally found out later that his father had an affair with another woman when he was a child, it was then that he realized even more how much he appreciated his mom. He spent a day with her ghost, cherishing every moment with her, recapping on the past and rekindling the flame of which their love was fading.
This book made me realize how much each day is worth and that I should appreciate every second. My parents are a huge part of my life, and I need to make sure they know it. With this, I will try to improve my outlook on life and make the most of everyday. I want to try and do more for my parents. A start could be just being the first to say good morning when I see them in the morning. I live with no regrets. I can’t say I regret not interacting with my parents much, because I’ve learned something from it.
I believe in second chances. I believe in realizing that what you have is sacred and should always be cherished. I believe in no regrets and I believe in new beginnings.
Every morning I wake up early, tired, grumpy, just wanting to be left alone so I can tranquilly get ready for school. I prefer my parents not talk to me much in the morning because I am just not in a good mood when I’m tired. When they do, even though they are being joyful and grateful to start a new day, I become irritated. On the way to school, I will listen to my iPod with my volume loud enough so that I won’t hear when my parents talk to me. I would say it is just a part of being a teenager, being independent from your parents. But at the same time, I realize I am not quite appreciating the fact that they are trying to make the best of their day.
By the time I get to school, I am just glad to be out of the car and with my friends. The rest of the day I am a happy camper. But on the ride home, I fall asleep, not wanting to be bothered by anyone again. When I get home, I am in a bad mood from being sleepy and again I don’t interact with my parents.
In my book, Chick was always shooting for his father’s approval, ignoring the fact that his mother was actually the more loving and caring parent. She loved him no matter what he did and only wanted the best for him. He didn’t appreciate it though. When he finally found out later that his father had an affair with another woman when he was a child, it was then that he realized even more how much he appreciated his mom. He spent a day with her ghost, cherishing every moment with her, recapping on the past and rekindling the flame of which their love was fading.
This book made me realize how much each day is worth and that I should appreciate every second. My parents are a huge part of my life, and I need to make sure they know it. With this, I will try to improve my outlook on life and make the most of everyday. I want to try and do more for my parents. A start could be just being the first to say good morning when I see them in the morning. I live with no regrets. I can’t say I regret not interacting with my parents much, because I’ve learned something from it.
I believe in second chances. I believe in realizing that what you have is sacred and should always be cherished. I believe in no regrets and I believe in new beginnings.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Volleyball Sonnet
A whistle sounds, the game’s about to start
A beat flows, 1, 2, 3, pass, set, return
It is a battle, fight with all your heart
Losing is something we refuse to learn
Liberos quick, setters fast, hitters strong
Perfect plays with little chance of mercy
Fans pressure no consent of doing wrong
Winner, loser, which do you want to be?
Best two out of three sets decide the game
Only three chances possibly just two
To make sure victory is ours to claim
Push first to 25, our hearts stay true
A whistle blows, the game’s about to start
We fight to win, play with entire heart.
I wrote this poem about volleyball because volleyball is my favorite sport. This sonnet is about the pressures and emotions present when playing in a game and all the factors that add to it.
There is a certain rhythm that flows in volleyball. Three is the maximum amount of touches allowed before the ball has to be returned over the net to the opposing side. The order of touches is usually pass, set, and hit. “A beat flows, 1, 2, 3, pass, set, return.” Watching a match, it is almost like listening to a song, until the ball hits the ground and the play is over.
“It is a battle, fight with all your heart, Losing is something we refuse to learn.” - Every sport is a battle, and in battles, losing is not an option. It is life or death. In sports, it is fail or succeed. There is no point in playing if the player doesn’t have the mentality that no matter what, winning is the only thing they want to do. The feeling of losing only lowers their self-confidence and mental strength. But it isn’t just mental and physical. It takes heart. Having heart gives the drive to make a player work harder than their opponents, the mentality that no matter the score, they can still win, the drive to put it all out there, on the court, field, or in the pool, with no regrets and leaving nothing behind.
“Liberos quick, setters fast, hitters strong, perfect plays with little chance of mercy.” - Each position picked for a player is critical to the game. The libero is usually the quickest and best passer on the team, the setter is the best at placing the ball where it needs to be for their hitters, and the hitters are the most explosive and powerful. Talented players for each of those positions together are some force to deal with. Strong teams show no mercy, as they can perform flawlessly.
“Fans pressure no consent of doing wrong. Winner, loser, which do you want to be?” - These two lines describe one of the pressures put upon a player while performing. Not only do they want to please their team and coaches, but they don’t want to disappoint all of the people watching. One bad play and the crowd looks down on them for the rest of the game. They lose faith in that player, which makes them lose faith in themselves. Then, it is all downhill from there. Though there are six players on the court, all are needed to be in sync for the rhythm to flow. Otherwise, the weak player can throw the whole team off and it is like listening to a broken record. There is no beat or flow, just rigid stops and repeats of the same part of the song, the record never seeming to be able to fix itself back to normal and finish. To win or to lose, it is really up to the whole team, no matter how good they are.
“Best two out of three sets decide the game. Only three chances possibly two to make sure victory is ours to claim. Push first to twenty-five, our hearts stay true.” - Though there are three sets in a match and usually twenty-five points in each, those twenty-five points go by fast. And usually, if one of the teams sweeps the first two sets, there is no third game, so each player has to make sure they put it all out there on the court from the start.
I decided to end my poem with the same lines I started with to create a cycle. This is because a volleyball match is just a cycle of plays. The setting is tense but still silent and calm while the whistle blows. Then, the beat starts to flow and it keeps going until the game becomes faster and more intense, into a battle to win or lose. But once the play ends, the cycle starts over calm and silent but tense, and it only builds up as the play goes on until it’s over. So as the poem goes on, the intensity should build up until the last two lines are reached and then the cycle starts back up again.
A beat flows, 1, 2, 3, pass, set, return
It is a battle, fight with all your heart
Losing is something we refuse to learn
Liberos quick, setters fast, hitters strong
Perfect plays with little chance of mercy
Fans pressure no consent of doing wrong
Winner, loser, which do you want to be?
Best two out of three sets decide the game
Only three chances possibly just two
To make sure victory is ours to claim
Push first to 25, our hearts stay true
A whistle blows, the game’s about to start
We fight to win, play with entire heart.
I wrote this poem about volleyball because volleyball is my favorite sport. This sonnet is about the pressures and emotions present when playing in a game and all the factors that add to it.
There is a certain rhythm that flows in volleyball. Three is the maximum amount of touches allowed before the ball has to be returned over the net to the opposing side. The order of touches is usually pass, set, and hit. “A beat flows, 1, 2, 3, pass, set, return.” Watching a match, it is almost like listening to a song, until the ball hits the ground and the play is over.
“It is a battle, fight with all your heart, Losing is something we refuse to learn.” - Every sport is a battle, and in battles, losing is not an option. It is life or death. In sports, it is fail or succeed. There is no point in playing if the player doesn’t have the mentality that no matter what, winning is the only thing they want to do. The feeling of losing only lowers their self-confidence and mental strength. But it isn’t just mental and physical. It takes heart. Having heart gives the drive to make a player work harder than their opponents, the mentality that no matter the score, they can still win, the drive to put it all out there, on the court, field, or in the pool, with no regrets and leaving nothing behind.
“Liberos quick, setters fast, hitters strong, perfect plays with little chance of mercy.” - Each position picked for a player is critical to the game. The libero is usually the quickest and best passer on the team, the setter is the best at placing the ball where it needs to be for their hitters, and the hitters are the most explosive and powerful. Talented players for each of those positions together are some force to deal with. Strong teams show no mercy, as they can perform flawlessly.
“Fans pressure no consent of doing wrong. Winner, loser, which do you want to be?” - These two lines describe one of the pressures put upon a player while performing. Not only do they want to please their team and coaches, but they don’t want to disappoint all of the people watching. One bad play and the crowd looks down on them for the rest of the game. They lose faith in that player, which makes them lose faith in themselves. Then, it is all downhill from there. Though there are six players on the court, all are needed to be in sync for the rhythm to flow. Otherwise, the weak player can throw the whole team off and it is like listening to a broken record. There is no beat or flow, just rigid stops and repeats of the same part of the song, the record never seeming to be able to fix itself back to normal and finish. To win or to lose, it is really up to the whole team, no matter how good they are.
“Best two out of three sets decide the game. Only three chances possibly two to make sure victory is ours to claim. Push first to twenty-five, our hearts stay true.” - Though there are three sets in a match and usually twenty-five points in each, those twenty-five points go by fast. And usually, if one of the teams sweeps the first two sets, there is no third game, so each player has to make sure they put it all out there on the court from the start.
I decided to end my poem with the same lines I started with to create a cycle. This is because a volleyball match is just a cycle of plays. The setting is tense but still silent and calm while the whistle blows. Then, the beat starts to flow and it keeps going until the game becomes faster and more intense, into a battle to win or lose. But once the play ends, the cycle starts over calm and silent but tense, and it only builds up as the play goes on until it’s over. So as the poem goes on, the intensity should build up until the last two lines are reached and then the cycle starts back up again.
Monday, March 16, 2009
It was a Thursday afternoon at about 4:00 and I had just come home and started working on my homework. I was assiduously working on my school computer and my sister tranquilly surfed the web on the home computer on the desk to the left of me. Dad was watching TV in the living room and my brother was upstairs in his room. It was like any other after-school routine, but Mom came home from work late that day. She had an enigmatic smile on her face when she greeted us. After she settled her stuff down, her and dad brought my brother, sister, and I into the living room and we sat together on the two couches. “I have some news…” she said and I sensed a nervous vibe.
“What is it mom?” my sister asked.
“Well… I might get cancer, unless I get an operation.”
We all sat there in shock as mom elucidated to us how she came to have the probability of getting cancer. She would get surgery to remove some of her internal organs that could eventually become cancerous. Her operation was in just two weeks and she had never been through something as crucial as this before.
When she was finished speaking, I asked, “Are you going to be ok?”
“I’ll be just fine…” She replied.
Mom tried to counterfeit the story so that it didn’t seem a big deal, when in all honesty, this operation could determine the rest of her life. After telling us her news, she went about everyday with the same routine with a blissful smile on her face like always. But it was apparent that she was incessantly growing more and more apprehensive. It was getting to the rest of us too.
The night before the operation day, when mom had already gone to sleep, I heard a knock on my door. It was my dad.
“Hey dad what’s up?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute before you go to sleep?” he asked.
“Sure,” I told him.
“You know, you’re mom told you guys that she wasn’t scared for the operation and that she was glad for it. But she was crying tonight because she is really scared for it, so please be as supportive as you can with this.”
I thought to myself, Mom is like that. She always makes sure we don’t worry about her because all she cares about is her children and taking care of ourselves without any distractions. She wants us to know that she can take care of herself too.
The next day, my dad picked my sister and I up right after school ended so that we could go visit mom who had the surgery earlier that day. Not one word was spoken in the car between us three, though my mind was filled with thoughts and questions. What did they do? How long did it take? Did it go well? I’m sure my sister and dad felt the same way.
We finally reached the room where my mom was resting but she was still asleep, so we just sat on the side of her bed, waiting. The lights were dim, the TV was still on, quietly playing a soap opera, a drape ran around the room, blocking viewers from outside the room, and I could even hear the air-conditioner as soft as it was through the silence. There was a tray with a little glass bowl of jello and a small, half empty paper cup of water on it on the side of the bed opposite us. I noticed a box of chocolates and some cards on the table by where we were sitting, so I presumed that people had already come to visit earlier today. The last time I had actually been in a hospital room like this was a long time ago. It felt different in there. I couldn’t wait for mom to wake up so that I could talk to her and see how she was doing.
A couple minutes later, one of her doctors came in. When he told us that the operation was a success and that she would have a good recovery, a flow of relief drifted through me.
Mom wasn’t supposed to be able to walk for about a week or two after the operation, but was getting up from bed and going up and down the stairs by herself within a couple of days. I realized then, that mom wasn’t just a strong woman at home, but she was mentally and emotionally tough and could take care of herself and made sure that her children didn’t have to worry about her. She showed us how to really be strong.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
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