1

Alex Greinke

English 101

Ms. Anthony

4-27-2014

 

Darkness. I thought I was blind, and then I realized my eyes were closed, upon opening them I see a sky filled with smoke. I felt something hard on my back, then I found out I was laying on concrete, and I stood up, finally taking notice of my.... environment. This place. What is this place? Where is it? When is it? Why is it that I'm here? A city. I'm in a city. Or a demolished city. It looks ancient ruins yet with signs of modern technology, or what's left of that too. Automobiles that have been burnt, the windows of shops shot out, power lines knocked over, piles of rubble surround the many buildings that look like they're reading to collapse, creating more rubble. The streets are littered with craters, bullet casings, buildings reduced to rubble, and a few blackened tanks. Dust flies through the air as the wind carries it to who knows where. The smell of gunpowder and charred metal is faint yet unsettling, especially being accompanied with this unnerving silence. The wind shifts, blowing its slight tempered air against my face, that's when I noticed the eerie smell of blood, smoked flesh, and- a building? Sixty feet behind me and 70 feet tall, the side of it, half way from the top has a large hole in it, possibly from an explosion or projectile. It starts to let loose more of its structure to the scarred earth, emitting its sounds of bricks tumbling and knocking against each other or anything blocking their path to the ground.

Pops. The sounds of popping are picked up by my ears from out in the distance. The pops go off one at a time, and then there are rapids pops. Wait... gunfire! Rifles and machine guns is what they sound like. Yes! That's what they are. Men shouting in foreign languages, sounds of the air being ripped and screeching before making an explosion.... Ah I remember where I am! The city of Stalingrad, it’s sitting on a river north of the Caucuses in the Soviet Union. It’s.... October, the 15th... I think and its 1942. I'm a Russian soldier sent here to fight in the defense of the city, and that's why I'm here. With my rifle slung over my shoulder and with only four bullets, I wander the lonely and scarred streets of this once... peaceful and.... living city. I have no other words to describe of what this city used to be. The loudest sound is the dirt and rubble crunching under my boots as I go along. The Germans started the destruction of the city in August and I haven't even been here for two weeks and it somehow feels like I been here long enough to conclude... that this was always the case for this city. Since coming here, I've witnessed fellow countrymen, soldier and civilian, die in the hundreds if not thousands by the Germans bombings and storms of bullets, hitting us with everything in their arsenal, all in the effort to capture this place for... whatever value Stalingrad holds.

As my body wanders, my mind begins to wonder, why exactly am I here risking my life? I was born in a small village, unscathed by the purges, 100 miles north of here that no one else cares about. Why do the Germans, no, why does Hitler insist on capturing this heap of ruins? The city bears the name of our.... glorious leader Joseph Stalin, capturing it, as Hitler probably believes would discredit our leader, weakening our morale. But other than political importance, all other reasons for capture seem irrelevant. This was a heavy industrial city and its destruction would hurt the Soviet Union's war effort economically. Since it’s destroyed, I don't see the reason why Hitler and Stalin should sacrifice tens or hundreds of thousands or millions of men, along with thousands of tanks and planes in order to control this pile of rubble. I come to a police station, or secret police, it’s hard to tell which is which. Though it doesn't matter now, the front of it has been blown out that you can't tell what it was before; the roof is missing with only charred wooden beams in its place. I look around and I see dozens of dead bodies, half of them German. From the looks of it I say they engaged in a gunfight, both sides were 40-60 feet apart. I feel a sense of shock and pity when I saw that two of the deceased invaders couldn’t have been older than 18 years, and that several of my fallen comrades were probably at least 15 years old. I’m barely 20 years old, so is that why I’m here risking my life in this blood stained, rubble reduced city? Why Hitler throws away countless lives away to do away with this obstacle for his twisted empire, to kill young men and children? Is that it?! TO DESTORY THE NEXT GENERATION OF HUMANS?! No! No I’m overreacting to this! The German people would refuse to support Hitler if that was the case. But why am I here? What does this ghost town mean to me? I sighed and continued my search the ruins for… my comrades I guess, if there’s any left. I guess that the only thing this place means to me is that if this was my village, I wouldn’t hesitate to defend it. It’s the only place that I know.

 

Works Cited

 

The Battle of Stalingrad." http://www.2worldwar2.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 27 Apr. 2014. http://www.2worldwar2.com/stalingrad.htm

"The Battle of Stalingrad." N.p., n.d. Web. 27 Apr. 2014. <http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/ww2/Stalingrad.html>.

New Republic Thoughts

I thought this movie New Republic was rather surprising in a few aspects to say the least. I mean Stephen was a journalist in his early 20's who found himself under a lot of pressure to get a good story out there for those who read the magazines printed by the New Republic, so in the end he had to lie about the stories just to get around the pressure with work and his efforts to get into a university. Instead of going on a quest of lies he should've told everyone that he was gonna have to start off with the small stories or at least ask for help in tracking down any good stories out there.

The movie itself I thought it was still surprising.

What is A place prewrite

Darkness. I thought I was blind, then I realized my eyes were closed, upon opening them I see a sky filled with smoke. I felt something hard on my back, then I found out I was laying on concrete, and I stood up, finally taking notice of my.... environment.

This place. What is this place? Where is it? When is it? Why is it that I'm here? A city. I'm in a city. Or a demolished city. It looks ancient ruins yet with signs of modern technology, or what's left of that too. Automobiles that have been burnt, the windows of shops shot out, power lines knocked over, piles of rubble surround the many buildings that look like they're reading to collapse, creating more rubble. The streets are littered with craters, bullet casings, buildings reduced to rubble, and a few blackened tanks.

Dust flies through the air as the wind carries it to who knows where. The smell of gunpowder and charred metal is faint yet unsettling, especially being accompanied with this unnerving silence. The wind shifts, blowing its slight tempered air against my face, that's when I noticed the eerie smell of blood, smoked flesh, and- a building? 60 feet behind me and 70 feet tall, the side of it, half way from the top has a large hole in it, possibly from an explosion or projectile.It starts to let loose more of its structure to the scarred earth, emitting its sounds of bricks tumbling and knocking against each other or anything blocking their path to the ground.

Pops. The sounds of popping are picked up from out in the distance. The pops go off one at a time, then there are rapids pops. Wait... gunfire! Rifles and machine guns is what they sound like. Yes! That's what they are. Men shouting in foreign languages, sounds of the air being ripped and screeching  before making an explosion.... Ah I remember where I am! The city of Stalingrad. Its sitting on a river north of the Caucuses in the Soviet Union. Its.... October, the 15th... I think and its 1942. I'm a Russian soldier sent here to fight in the defense of the city, and that's why I'm here.

With my rifle slung over my shoulder and with only four bullets, I wander the lonely and scarred streets of this once... peaceful and.... living city. I have no other words to describe of what this city used to be. The loudest sound is the dirt and rubble crunching under my boots as I go along. The Germans started the destruction of the city in August and I haven't even been here for two weeks and it somehow feels like I been here long enough to conclude... that this was always the case for this city. Since coming here, I've witnessed fellow countrymen, soldier and civilian, die in the hundreds if not thousands by the Germans bombings and storms of bullets, hitting us with everything in their arsenal, all in the effort to capture this place for... whatever value Stalingrad holds.

Then I begin to wonder, why exactly am I here, risking my life? I was born in a small village 100 miles north of here, untouched by the purges, that no else cares about. Why do the Germans, no, why does Hitler insist on capturing this heap of ruins? The city bares the name of our.... glorious leader Joseph Stalin, capturing it, as Hitler probably believes, that it credit our leader. But other than political importance, all other reasons for capture seem irrelevant. This was a heavy industrial city and its destruction would hurt the Soviet Union's war effort economically. Since its destroyed, I don't see the reason why Hitler and Stalin should sacrifice tens or hundreds of thousands or millions of men, along with thousands of tanks and planes in order to control this pile of rubble.

I come to a police station, or secret police, its hard to tell which is which. Though it doesn't matter the front of it has been blown that you can't tell what it was before. I look around and I see dozens of dead bodies, half of them German. 

Response to Custom Writing

I just read about a company named Custom Writing. It writes student's essays for them so they wont have to, for money. And none of their operations involve plagiarism. Finally, something that gives students a break from torturous essays where we have to spend time and effort at combining creativity with semi-professionalism. Creative as in putting information in our own words with a sense of professionalism, or something to that effect. Now it may seem lazy and denying ourselves from gaining experience with this type of work, but it saves us time and doesn't cost that much

Pigeon Impossible POV

It was a nice little afternoon, as most would call, in America's capital. Much nicer than the cold concrete sidewalk that is under me, but I suppose being a special briefcase, seeing and feeling nice things shouldn't really matter to me. The combination of plastic, rubber, and metal is what I'm made of.
A briefcase carried by this human in broad daylight, would normally seem harmless, if I was a normal briefcase. I'm actually a high tech government item with weaponry functions, and I've just been handed to another human agent named Walter Bekket. He was a bit of a clumsy fellow and then I thought he lacked common sense.

He sat me down on a green bench on the sidewalk and, opened me up and began to press my buttons while eating a bagel. Then I saw for the first time in my existence, humor. An unusual pigeon that seemed to have a human understanding took interest in the bagel. He soon attacked the human wanting the bagel, only to have him throw it over me and behind me on the ground. Then the stupid bird landed on top of me, and he was heavy enough to tip me over, closing me with him inside.

He started messing with my buttons, making me jump all over the place. A minute later I was flying around on jets and firing lasers every where causing people to panic Though he looked like was having fun. The smell of smoke and sweat permeated the air.

Then that Walter human held up that stupid bread catching my pilots attention and landed. They negotiated in silence, after pointing a missle at him for making a funny movement, the bird gestured that he throw it up in the air and he did. Once distracted he knocked the bird away, then the bagel landed on the big red button
 

Free write warm up Sky

Such a comforting scene. Peaceful skies even at nights like this aren't something you see everyday. The light on the horizon is so alien I can't comprehend what s spectatular sight that one should witness. What a great night it would be if it had a full moon, the it would a perfect nighy in an imperfect world where such alien beauty is taken for granted at times. Its priceless for no one can lay claim to, no matter the wealth they might have. Its natures reminder, even though its cruel it has a side of beauty.

The sky is what it is.

Food blog Ciabatta Sandwich

The process of making this food of significance to me is to get cibatta, Gouda, Havartti, or Muenster cheese, pepperoni or any other meat, avocado, and horseradish.

I first toast the bread, spread the avocado at the bottom evenly, add horseradish on the bottom, then a slice of pepperoni or meat in general, cheese, meat, cheese, another slice of meet, another slice of cheese, and finally another slice of meat and the other piece of bread, then eat and enjoy it. I also like to get some Kettle Cook Lays chips and ranch and have it with the sandwhich. I've been eating ciabatta sandwhiches for years now, I'm using my favorite bread.

I first started eating this ciabatta sandwich when I believe my mom was first making for myself and later I got hooked. Then in my Junior year at highschool, I got carried away with eating the school lunch items that I gained like 10lbs, so this healthier item from home became a immediate alternative that helped dropped a few pounds. Now the reason its my favorite is because its an every other day sandwich that I care to make, its healthy, its basic and its good.

She is blonde

This human female is blond for reasons beyond my amateur analytical mind wouldn't be able to comprehend if I began to analyze it with my mind. Her hair was 16-18 inches long, gleamed like gold in the sun, felt like fine silk upon touch, shined like a star in the moonlight, smelled like sunflowers and fine wine in the air. Her hair is beauty in itself, but it could be a trap.


The process of making this food of significance to me is to get cibatta, Gouda, pepperoni, avocado, and horseradish.

I first toast the bread, spread avocado to the bottom, add horseradish, then a slice of pepperoni, Gouda, another pepp, Gouda, another pepp, another Gouda, and finally another pepperoni and the other piece of bread, then eat and enjoy it. I also like to get some Kettle Cook Lays chips and ranch and have it with the sandwhich. I've been eating ciabatta sandwhiches for years now, I'm using my favorite bread.

I started eating this sandwich in my Junior year at highschool. I got carried away with eating the school lunch items that I gained like 10lbs, so this healthier item from home became a immediate alternative that helped dropped a few pounds. Now the reason its favorite is because its a every other day sandwich thats healthy, its basic and its good

Forest story from previous post

The Battle of the Cargan Forest of 1606, was crucial for the protection of one of Cobreiny's most wealthiest provinces. The Yorgurvs menaced the Cobreinian in a costly war for 15 years. A Yorgurv army of about 35,000 sapproached the town of Cargan and their 250,000 people.
The Cobreinians with an army of 8,500, plus 1,500 militia which made 10,000, used the dense forest to their advantage and crippled the enemy after 22 days of strategic fighting, forcing them to retreat. The weather of those 22 days was either ranning or very hot, which made the Yorgurvs miserable who werent used to such such weather patterns unlike their enemy who lived a lifetime in the province. They came from a mostly a cold and dry land. Over half of the Yorgurv troops wore heavy armor and if were vulnerable to the heat or to attack if they were on or off. Less than 1000 from both sides caught colds. The smell of blood, sweat, oil, smoke, and gun powder was so thick, winds carried the combined scent miles away in different diretcions, some say if you focus your nose you can still smell a little bit of it even after 400 years.

Every day air was filled with the sounds of the rain beating down whatever was below them, swords clashing, painful screams coming from mens mouths, explosions smashing the earth and shredding the trees, and guns firing.

After those 22 days, the Yorgurvs lost 14,000 men while the Cobreinians lost about 3,000. The odds were against them yet they saved the town of Cargan the province's capital.
Every year a memorial service is held to honor those who died.

Senses

The image I see is 3 dimensional or digital paper lizard figure things, sitting in a circle on top of presents wrapped in colorful. However the lizards almost look like balloons. Either way they are colorful. There is a blue and white feather in the middle of the lizard circle. The presents also look like stairs curving upwards. It’s an overhead view of the image presented before me.

The place I would rather be is Cobreiny. An imaginary country/continent inhabited by demons and humans.  A place where modern and traditional ways, races and ideas integrate with one another and the way of the warrior still ever present even in the 21^st century.  A large land with a mostly European climate and terrain, but a melting pot of cultures from Europe to Asia.

Endless acres of trees and grass spreading through the country meeting up with the unique towns, cities, and villages made of metal, wood and/or stone.  Mountains rising up from the grounds in the distance reaching the sky.

The smell of decade’s old dead warriors is noticeable, but overshadowed by the scent of fresh grass, oak, and pine. The smell of hard work being performed by the various laborers completing their given tasks.

 

The taste of good food being cook in the restaurants and bakeries in the cities invades ones mouth. The taste of meat being in the forest from the fallen bodies of ferocious animals as a means of survival. The taste of salty water from the nearby beach is more than welcoming to the diverse aromas of food and survival. Soft cool dirt can be strangely taste but not edible.

The feel of the wind blowing against my face, as I run my hand on the rough texture outer walls of the stone houses, while the sun’s rays are beamed into my body, warming it comfortably.

I hear the sounds of the people chatting and laughing with one another, while carts and church bells make their distinctive sounds. The birds singing their melodic tunes while a rooster makes his doodle dooes in the morning. The dogs bark and whine while they for someone to feed them their usual meals. I hear the wind rustling the trees.

 

And old seemingly dead forest lays few miles off from the town, the site where a crucial battle took place. Winning or loosing decided the fate of the town and every thing for 300 sq miles. The battle was so long and fierce it aged many trees and killed off others. The trees provided an advantage for the outnumber defenders who risked everything for the defenseless if they werent their. An area of great importance of survival and freedom.

Hells and Heavens

This past week I went through I had some hells and heavens. Xbox, family, and school usually have mixed feelings.
One heaven is playing an xbox game called World Of Tanks and the hell of that is getting constantly killed.

Essays are my hell of school. My grandmothers dementia is an obvious hell.
School had one of my heavens. Getting an A on my history test was one and not having so much homework every week like most others would. Finishing my english MLA was a heaven after going through that minor hell of actually having to do it. One hell of today was over sleeping and giving me no time to shower since I had less than 20 minutes to do nothing but get over to school and was only 2 minutes late for my first class.
School is one hour away from ending thats a heaven going to work at 5 is a hell.

Crazy Story

A few monkeys unify with an icy rabbit after their respective peoples done the same. They forged each others skibbys that were wonkey so that they could apologize for being ignorant to each other that started the Attrition that ruined the moist outdoors because someone was hoopin the others and ended when someone said Apple. Awesome.

Thats was sure a phenomenal.

Actually how it started and ended is irrelevant.

The monkeys got tattoos before setting off with the rabbit to Egypt. They were to hunt the industrial person incognito who was forging syphilis in Egypt. They would give him a chance to apologize while were being awesome. But they wouldn't guess how ignorant he would be about Apple.

The hunt soon became an attrition in Egypt's non-moist outdoors. Incognito liked hoopin in his skibbys, that made it easy to hunt him because he had tattoos that were wonkey. Actually his tattoos were marker but they found him ending the hunt and punished him.

Second copy

This person is a dark skinned, tall and large, strategic, young adult, male with a shaved head and full beard who used to be petite. He is helpful, technical and resourceful, though rather blunt sometimes. He acted suspicious whenever people stared at him when he had either long or short hair that was either blond or black or brunette. As an added bonus he is rather industrious and studios.

This XY gendered individual owns a skin tone of one from a middle eastern appearance. He towers over most men and widens past most females, before he used to be of a smaller stature. In his final years of being a juvenile, facial hair began to emerge from his face before developing into a rugged appearance. His scalp lacks hair, that used to be either of a golden, brown or completely dark color either of a miniature or extended length. Though sometimes overly cautious he offers others assistance, known to be tactical and creative in ingenuity. A crudely mannered specimen however hardworking and intelligent.

Characteristics

This person is a dark skinned, tall and large, strategic, young adult, male with a shaved head and full bear who used to be petite. He is helpful, technical and resourceful, though rather blunt sometimes. He acted suspicious whenever people stared at him when he had either long or short hair that was either blond or black or brunette. As an added bonus he is rather industrious and studios.

Notebook prompt

The notebook is something I use to write notes like everyone else or write random crap for my fanfic unlike others who draw meaningless things. THis 70 paper item can hold your ideas, its like a cheesy idea bank that only you can access but really anyone if they plan to put their meaningless crap in it with my meaningful crap. But mostly used to help take notes. Acutually thats the primary reason, to write notes, all other data or stuff is secondary or inconclusive. Like drawing random things that you spend hours if not days on one flower. So use it for its inteded purpose. I use a random page for an idea for my fanfic.

Freewriting binder spring

The binder spring, the loopy thing that holds the papers together in a binder. Could be made of metal, many are, or plastic. Flexible and bendible, just like life itself. Almost looks like a small slinky but without the fun that wastes your time in it. But instead made with that single purpose before you completely used up the paper before burning it or throwing it away or both. To keep everything. I dont really know how one would go about of removing the spring from the binder without destroying the binder. Thats like asking how to get rid of government without destroying public order. Yeah sure you rip every paper but the spring and binder are still there or are they one and the same. But without the paper there is no real binder, just the two card boards held by piece of plastic or metal barely doing its job. Which is to keep everything together.

Freewriting clothes pin

Clothes pins. The objects used to help dry clothes after being washed. People used these before laundry machines were invented and are Used when a dryer is unavailable even today. Sign of being environmentally conscious by just hanging up the wet clothes on a line, instead of using power/gas/electricity and lowering your utilites bill especially if you lack a washing machine, but increases the time to get the chore done. A piece oringally made of wood now made of plastic, can be used to complete a simple time consuming chore that required wind, a clear sunny day and patience. Not the most common you see everyday though. Many people go to laundromats when they dont have the proper machinery. It costs less than your monthly utiliy bill, but you have to pay for your laundry. THe clothes pin can be bought for its intended purpose and be used indefinitly.

This I believe

I believe in the power of reason. Reason is what keeps us together, for each individual and for the community of mankind as a whole. Its what goes with logic and able to keep people from making unnecessary actions that ruin oneself or others. Though many times that power is either overlooked, abused or neglected. Its overlooked by people who care about themselves seek ways to have their short lived benefits of their actions without realizing its hurting others, and even if they do realize they still push forward with their selfish desires if they feel they're close to their goal. Reason can be a poor or misguided power if it lacks thought or proper planning, I believe it should be used as a just power. Reason can benefit others and not just yourself, such as deciding to not take any chances that prove harmful to others since you were overconfident to look over all the details and cons in your decisions and/or actions.

But still smaller reasons can determine the consequences of one's actions either voluntary or involuntary. An alcoholic going so far as to sneaking around behind his family, doing it poorly I might add, to get his or her family good feeling, at the addition of disappointment to the family.
Or wealthy individuals bribing government official from taking up public works projects the provide free services that loosens their hold on economic activity and power.
The addict wanting stooping so low to feel good and the capitalist bribing to save his power are reasons of want. The wanting to fulfil their own desires. But those are the negative forms of reality, they are reality. Reasons can en spouse realism and idealism depending on the situation or subject. This addict named AnderSmith is an alcoholic that hides alcohol somewhere in his/her house in a minibar with other bottles. When nobody is around he/she gets his/her buzz going. He/she thinks their so clever at hiding but anyone can spot it at first sight and smell.

One idealist form of reason is the Marxist or Communist ideology.Where individuals are stripped of owning their businesses then handed for community or state control or ownership in order to bring about equality in one's society through collective ownership. Like reasons in general, idealistic ones can still have their downsides, since not everyone benefits off of another's actions and their reasons behind it. The media's definit version of communism My version of communism is the theory of economic and social equality through government controll and policy. Though I am not a communist, I'm stating an opinion.





 

Freewrite fanfic

Fanficition is a type of story where you can take your favorite show, movie or anime and make a story out of it based on your IMAGINATION. That can be like adding your own scene after another scene in a movie or show that made you wonder what happened between that time skip. Or add your own little oneshot plot to the show as your own story. The best site to see these fanfics is the called simply called fanfiction.net. Best site to go to unlike many other fan sites where its only centered around one show or etc.  It has millions of stories, alot of them romantic, that you can read. But the number of fics is generated upon how popular what the fics are based upon in the real world. Hunger games fics or Harry Potter would have hundreds of thousands.
This stuff is rather important to me cause your favorite shows can have a bit of disappointment if or when they dont show what everyone really wanted to see in the way they wanted to see it in, or if didnt happen at all, or if it wasnt direct enough.

So things I wanted to see or from my orinigal imagination I just think of a good plot.

What if The Syrian civil war ended

Three years of fighing and less than 100,000 deaths in that ancient arabic country is worrisome. But what if it ended. The countries bordering Syria would love that, for it meant that refugees would stop coming. But what if there are other problems after the war besides rebuilding. Thousands of displaced refugees need to go somewhere stable. President Assad would have to consider setting up a transitional government for a few years. Cause what if some fundamentalists take power and put Syria in a government more repressive than the current one? What if it never ends?  It will have to end, otherwise it will fall into anarchy if the frequency of violence does not decline. If it declines. What if it does decline what then? Does it mean isolated attacks and shootouts will happen throughout the country. Will Assad step down after setting a path to eventual democracy? But civil wars and revolutions don't really bring much good to a country except death and destruction and and eventual instability since nothing else changes. What if the end of the civil war in Syria meant a victor and a vanquished? Would any problems be solved?

Free writing What if

College was free. Gasoline was only a dollar. Food was healthier. Healthcare became simple enough to understand. Food was healthier. Diseases of today were cured. Pollution was no longer a problem. Teenage pregnancies went through the roof. Tobaccoo became healthier. Guns become a bigger problem. Healthcare was actually free like Canada's. The Syrian civil war ended. The western hemisphere use the American dollar.




What if Guns became a bigger problem?

The United States has the highest gun crime. And the past couple of years we've seen more shooting sprees happen. Would people start carrying guns with wherever they go? Guns only lead to trouble so if it happens we'll be ready to blow its freakin' head off. When masscre starts, shoot the madman. Maybe couldve prevented so much death in that Colorado movie theater. Or cause more from stray bullets from trigger happy shooters. Law enforcement would probably have to wear full body armor. Maybe start calling them robocops. What if people had gatling guns fixed into the homes or cars. Its like a warzone waiting to happen. The inner cities will become warring fortresses or communities like in Somalia. Maybe give people an edge once the zombies start to rise from a disease. Ak47s would probably be seen the most in public. Imagine some good looking women carrying that around. Should you flirt or avoid. Its tempting. But if guns became a bigger problem what then? Do we respond to this and defend ourselves from each other and maybe ourselves. Imagine what would happen if you used that to deal with a school bully.


What if you never had to eat?
You drink food and get the nutrients. Sounds kind of bland tasting or no taste at all if you just need the nutrients. But then we probably wouldnt have to worry about chemical or artificial ingredients that are rather harmful be added to our liquid food. Restraunt will would probabl serve both solid and liquid food. Solid means more taste and just by having it there. But if we evolve to only rely on liquid food what then? What would solid food do to us if we grew to rely on the liquid form. Would our digestive system weaken and not be able to do number 2? Would our taste buds devolve. Would our teeth weaken from lack of use? Evolution happens over tens of thousands of years so we probably wouldnt know until we see changes or develop a way to see the future or how life would be different. Weakend teeth would mean zombie bites would be weaker.

Free writing Paper work and money are usually inseparable

Paper work and money are usually inseparable. Quoted by me. The inseparable because theyre made from the same material. And you need to fill crap on paper to make payments or to recieve money. Papers you receive from the mail usually means you have some money that needs be spent. Some papers offer you some worthless crap for your money that youll regret spending. But you'll more than likely say no to their offers of crap that you wont spend your money on and spend it somewhere else and be happy with that decision in the future. However not all paper work is about you spending money with that same paper. Some papers tell you how much you spent, need to spend and what you didnt spent. Thats usually unknown to shopaholics. Some papers tell you how much money you will be recieving for any legal and illegal that you may or may not have done if the police asks you those questions. And as said in the beginning money is paper, which is made from trees. Though they probably would like it they were all made of metal and not die to due economic wealth.

Free writing You get dumped with new resposibilties all of a sudden

This stress cluster is expected in advance but you can never comprehend the magnitude of these new, difficult responsibilities. No one can. Because their so consistant its not even funny and makes you wonder if some of them are even really necessary to be brought up in the first place. Many responsibilites are mandatory, but some as said are wonderered if others are mandatory. You buy a new car and have to pay off the direct payments, okay those are needed. Then you have gas and insurance to take accountabilty for, but then further mainentace costs, some mechanics like to feed you misinformation, constant spending is a resposnibility that comes up all of a sudden, but really makes you question if it that honest advice or recommendation that told you needed this to happen. Paper work and money are usually inseparable and are mandatory, frustating, and eventually energy drained. Take away your fun time, or choose options that will give you less work and more time to finish the other crap that got dumped on your head.

Freewriting Fear

Fear is a single word with many meanings. A broad, single word. Actually its a narrow defintion, it just means your afraid of someone or something, its broad in terms of examples. And can be direct or indirect, friend or foe. You could be afraid of the dark or your mothers cooking, or heights or talking to girls if your that young or afraid of humans.
You can fear things that arent scary but rather frustrating or stressful things. Actually those could fall under something as scary depending on the circumstance. You can fear the price of gasoline. Everyone does because theyll have to spend more of their hard earned money. Fears although can be scary but also cause dissappointment if a situation goes south or not in your favor, its scare first followed by the latter. I'm afraid of complicated assignments that forever and running out of ideas for the next chapter of my Anime/Manga based fanfiction to where I might loose interest in it and not bother to touch for the next 10 years. Change of habits because of force are feared for good reason. You get dumped with new resposibilties all of a sudden. I know thats a buzz kill for everyone cause you get less time for yourself. You can be afraid of your status at work.

Travels to Greece

For almost two decades I've traveled to Greece for at most a dozen times with my mom who comes from their and my brother. Half of my blood line comes from Greece obviously. We visit my mom's sister, her Canadian husband, and two daughters who are around my age. I complained many times over the lack of things that I was mostly familiar with, but my last visit two years ago, I drank some beer which obviously helped me relaxed a bit. Though I drank in moderation unlike most American teens who get carried away. In Greece theres no set age limit for alcohol.

Another thing about Greece is the rugged terrain, the abundace of villages throughout the country,and the unlimited stray cats roaming around said villages that keep the snakes out and that may or may not carry diseases. We only visit the northern part Greece, but mainly visit an island called Thasos in the northern Aegean sea.

Shooting Range

In the spring of 2012, my older brother Michael took me to the firing range at the state forest conservation area to fire off his two guns. The Russian Moisant-Nagant from the 30s and a semi-automatic Yugoslavian SKS that he purchased from a coworker.

The Moisant's recoil, due to its larger caliber, proved to be killer on my brother's shoulder, but luckly I was wearing a jacket so the padding was thick enough to decrease the flow of energy going into my body.

The SKS was a little gentler for it used a smaller bullet.

I had alot of fun shooting with my brother despite the dangers the guns posed. I wasnt really allowed to reload them for my brother feared the worst of something to happen. Guns have always fascinated me, despite my idealogies, and appeared cool, even though they're dangerous. I purchased three guns from my neighbor last year before he and his wife moved to Georgia.

Junge Test

The results of my Junge personality test, says that I'm a ISTJ. Thats mean I'm practicle, stable, responsible, and often quite and serious.