Monday, May 19, 2014

Unexpected Short Story Complete Version

There is nothing but a warm wetness on the boy’s clothes and hair. He could see a bright red color that stains his eyelids, resembling the color of a human hand that is being jabbed with photons of lights emitted from the sun. Everything feels so nice and tranquil to the young boy, no pain, no anxiousness, no fear, no worries; everything seemed like a moment of perfection that can only be experience by dreaming. However, it was all in reality for the boy. Soon, the boy grew tired in this “dream” dimension and decided to take a nap of eternity.
The boy opens his eyes and sees a white ceiling decorated with splashes of yellow stains. On the right side of him, he could hear the heart monitor beating to his every heartbeat. On the left side, he sees a familiar girl, with her head tilt a little back, her eyes closed and her mouth fixed ajar. The boy gazes at the girl’s beauty, the smooth glossy black hair that looks so angelic, and the imperfect smooth face. The boy wants to sit upright on the bed; however, his body seems to deny his brains command. Instead of forcing his body, the boy decides to continue lying.         
The girl wakes up from her slumber, “I am really glad that you were capable of waking up.,” she said with a screechy high voice. Clearing her throat, “Do you want some water to drink?” she said with a muffled high voice.


“Y-y-es-yes.” responded the boy with uneasiness.


As the girl hands the boy the floral Dixie cup filled to the brim with cold water, she asks with worry and curiosity in her tone, “How are you feeling? Does any part of your body hurt in anyway?”


“It seems like I cannot move my body. Do you know what happened to me?” the boy responds.


“I-I, to be honest, I do not know what happened to you.” The girl responded as tears stream down her delicate imperfect face. As she cleans her tears from her face, a middle-aged woman dressed in an Adrianna Papell sleeveless sheath dress, with a pair of Jimmy Choo designer strassed women’s black satin pumps, holding a cup of Mocha in her right hand and a Louis Vuitton Artsy GM N41173 handbag hanging off her left forearm. Behind her came three men dressed in black tuxedos from Louis Vuitton and wearing black sunglasses, written on the side of one arm of the glasses saying GUCCI with gold coloring.


“How are you feeling my dearest son?” asked the middle age woman with anxiousness in her tone.


“Mom, do you know what happened to me?” asked the boy with pain and curiosity.
The mother of the boy tells one of her guards to contact the doctor that her son was awake and needs to have a check up on his condition immediately. As the mother waits for the doctor to come, she stares at her son with pain in her eyes and is struggling not cry at the condition that her son is in. The girl slowly moved herself into the corner of the room, trying to hide her presence from the mother and the guards. The doctor strolls into the room and went to the boy asking him how he was feeling and what parts of his body hurts the most. The boy responded that he could not move his body and that he felt lightheaded.


The doctor responded, “ Well, the reason as to why you cannot move your body is because you have two compound fractures on your right femur, minor damages to the spinal cord, three fractures on the vertebrae,  and a minor pelvic fracture. You did however have a brain hemorrhage on the cerebrum from your accident, but we did immediately patch that up just a day ago.”


“I would recommend that you get more sleep, and I am kind of shocked that you are capable of waking up so fast after taking a good amount of painkillers and have gone through a brain surgery.”


The nurse called out the doctor that another patient was having breathing problems and needs medical assistance. The boy’s mother walks up to the boy and begins stroking his light brown curly hair.


“Mom do you know what happened to me?” the boy asked. Tears run down the mothers pale cheeks like runners racing down a track field.


“I-I really do not want...I do not know what happened,” responded the mother with her voice all muffled.


“I want to know,” whispered the boy.


The mother gasps a couple of times and responds, “Get some rest now.”

The girl in the corner of the room slowly slides down the wall to the floor covering her face and crying silently, hoping that no one in the room can hear her. The mother walks out with the guards following her back. Right after the mother left, the girl in the corner of the room gets to her feet and walks out the door of the room. Immediately after the girl’s presence has left the room, a studious man, with a shaggy beard, and dressed in a light brown professor suit walks in. The man pulls up a chair on the left side of the boy and breathes heavily out. The boy flashes open his eyes and swings his head to the left staring into the man’s emerald green eyes.


“I see you have survived from that nasty fall,” said the man with a deep rustic voice.


“F- Fall?” responded the boy with a curious and amazed tone.


“It does seem reasonable that you have no recollection of what happened since you did damage your cerebrum.”
“Can you tell me what happened to me or at least how I fell?” asked the boy with a raspy dry voice filled with curiosity.
“How about I get you some water first?”


The man gets up from his chair, and walks around the boy’s hospital bed to the cabinet and fills a clear glass cup with lukewarm water. The man fills it up halfway and walks it over to the boy. The man elevates the boy’s upper body at an acute angle with his right hand and tilts the glass cup at also an acute angle. The boy drinks slowly. Once the boy finishes half the water, the man sets the glass on the nightstand next to the boy and slowly lowers the boy’s upper body onto the bed. He walks back over to the chair and clears his throat.


“So once upon a time, there was a-”


“I’m not a child so you don’t have to do that, just give me the story with the raw information, that is all I want.” responded the boy with irritation in his voice.


“Well okay, no childish intros. Yes?” asked the man with a smirk on his face


“No childish intros.”


“I’m pretty sure that you haven’t forgotten the idea that you are a rich boy right?”


“Correct.”


“Since you didn’t lose the memory of coming from a rich family, I believe you know that your parents own one of the largest multinational retail corporations in the world, Wal-Mart Stores, Inc. or Walmart.”


“I still remember that my parents own Walmart, so go on,” responded the boy with anger in his tone.


“Okay, okay, sounds like you still have a lot of your memory intact except for how you fell and why you fell. So I will start off with that.”


“So your uncle, Mr. Walton, has some debt that he owes to Diabolik-”


“Who is Di-a-bo-lik?” ask the boy with uneasiness and curiosity.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have known that you don’t know your infamous mafia bosses or drug lords, since you’re only  adolescence and have parents restricting you from knowing about anything from the underworld,” responded the man with a cool, calm tone with his deep rustic voice.


“My parents don’t restrict me from doing anything that I want to know or do. I’m just not exposed to the poverty atmosphere and the people suffering from poverty that is all.” The boy shouted with rage in his tone.


“Okay, okay, calm down. Diabolik is the current Sicilian Mafia godfather located in Sicily, Italy. His real name is Matteo Messina Denaro, known to be a notorious criminal and killer in the world,” said the man with no tone in his voice.


“Is he in jail or is he dead?” asked the boy with an eager tone.


“He is not in any of those situations, he is in hiding currently, and he has his soldiers targeted at your family, the Walton’s,” responded the man with a murky tone.


“So you’re saying that my current condition is caused by my uncle owing money to Matteo Messina Denaro, am I right?” asked the boy with a curious but scared tone in voice.


“That’s right. However, your minor pelvic fracture and the upper femur compound fracture was cause by escaping from four of Matteo Messina Denaro soldiers. I’m guessing that they got a nice beating on you before you ran and jumped over the bridge, slamming down onto the train tracks and ending up in the situation that you are in.” Said the man


So that’s what happened,” whispered the boy.


“You are pretty brave to jump off a 25 feet high bridge. I am impressed.” Acknowledge the man with excitement in his tone.


“Thanks. Who are you?” asked the boy with an eccentric tone.


The man gets up from his chair and begins to stretch, twisting his body from left to right and giving off small yawns. The man had a muscular figure, his blue polo was struggling to keep his pecks from busting out and his professor coat looked as if it was ready to rip any moment. The man’s jeans were ripping at random spots, looking just like jeans that can be obtain from any teenage clothing store.


“Do you mind if I hold off that question and get myself some coffee and possibly something to snack on?” asked the man.


“Just do it quick,” retorted the boy.
“Thanks,” responded the man.


The man turns around and swings open the light brown cedar wood door, and as he takes a right turn into the hallway, his right hand behind him pulls the door shut. Down the hallway is Mrs. Walton or the boy’s mother with her three guards standing in front of the elevator waiting for the man. The elevator bell rings and she and her guards step in. The man increases his walking speed and as he gets closer to the open elevator, he sees that the elevator door was hold open by one the guards. The man steps in and scooches himself to the back of the elevator to get next to Mrs. Walton.


“I guess you told him?” asked Mrs. Walton with an anxious and scared tone.


“Yes I did madam,” responded the man with a calm and affirmative tone.


“You don’t have to be so-”


“I’m sorry; I forgot that you didn’t want to be called madam anymore. I just got too used to calling you madam,” interrupted the man.


“There was no need to apologize, I understand that I have been your superior for a decade and a half and that the madam part was embedded into your head,” responded Mrs. Walton with still the anxious and scared tone.


“So how are you going to handle this, Matteo still has his men targeting your son?” asked the man with a plain tone in his deep rustic voice.


“Does your men know by any chance where Matteo men are?” asked Mrs. Walton with now an affirmative tone.


The presence of the elevator’s movement comes to a complete halt and the shiny metallic door slides open allowing in a radiant color of orange and red into the six feet by six feet space. Mrs. Walton, the man, and her 3 guards walks out of the elevator and takes a right turn towards the main entrance of the hospital.


“My men have killed one of his men and put two into custody, at this very moment, the two should be in interrogation. I will make sure that there will be two officers in front of your son’s room, and two officers at every corner on the floor to maintain your child’s safety. Please, mad-Jennifer, leave this to me to deal with,” said the man with a sincere tone in his rustic voice.


“Hearing these words comfort me, and knowing that you will be protecting the safety of my child gives me assurance, and knowing that you’re always persistent on cases, I know you will stop Matteo’s men from hunting my child,” responded Mrs. Walton with a relieved tone.


They stop in front of the hospital’s main entrance automatic doors and before stepping out into the noisy atmosphere beyond the automatic doors; Mrs. Walton faces the man and gives him a five-second tight awkward hug. She turns around, and she and her three guards walk into the radiant orange light. The man lets off an awkward smile and jams both of his hands into the front pockets of the light brown professor suit.

“This is going to an exciting case to do,” giggled the man.

Monday, May 12, 2014

Unexpected Short Story

There is nothing but a warm wetness on the boy’s clothes and hair. He could see a bright red color that stains his eyelids, resembling the color of a human hand that is being jabbed with photons of lights emitted from the sun. Everything feels so nice and tranquil to the young boy, no pain, no anxiousness, no fear, no worries; everything seemed like a moment of perfection that can only be experience by dreaming. However, it was all in reality for the boy. Soon, the boy grew tired in this “dream” dimension and decided to take a nap of eternity.
The boy opens his eyes and sees a white ceiling decorated with splashes of yellow stains. On the right side of him, he could hear the heart monitor beating to his every heartbeat. On the left side, he sees a familiar girl, with her head tilt a little back, her eyes closed and her mouth fixed ajar. The boy gazes at the girl’s beauty, the smooth glossy black hair that looks so angelic, and the imperfect smooth face. The boy wants to sit upright on the bed; however, his body seems to deny his brains command. Instead of forcing his body, the boy decides to continue lying.         
The girl wakes up from her slumber, “I am really glad that you were capable of waking up.,” she said with a screechy high voice. Clearing her throat, “Do you want some water to drink?” she said with a muffled high voice.

“Y-y-es-yes.” responded the boy with uneasiness.

As the girl hands the boy the floral Dixie cup filled to the brim with cold water, she asks with worry and curiosity in her tone, “How are you feeling? Does any part of your body hurt in anyway?”

“It seems like I cannot move my body. Do you know what happened to me?” the boy responds.

“I-I, to be honest, I do not know what happened to you.” The girl responded as tears stream down her delicate imperfect face. As she cleans her tears from her face, a middle aged woman dressed in an Adrianna Papell sleeveless sheath dress, with a pair of Jimmy Choo designer strassed women’s black satin pumps, holding a cup of Mocha in her right hand and an Louis Vuitton Artsy GM N41173 handbag hanging off of her left forearm. Behind her came three men dressed in black tuxedos from Louis Vuitton and wearing black sunglasses, written on the side of one arm of the glasses saying GUCCI with gold coloring.

“How are you feeling my dearest son?” asked the middle age woman with anxiousness in her tone.

“Mom, do you know what happened to me?” asked the boy with pain and curiosity.
The mother of the boy tells one of her guards to contact the doctor that her son was awake and needs to have a check up on his condition immediately. As the mother waits for the doctor to come, she stares at her son with pain in her eyes and is struggling not cry at the condition that her son is in. The girl slowly moved herself into the corner of the room, trying to hide her presence from the mother and the guards. The doctor strolls into the room and went to the boy asking him how he was feeling and what parts of his body hurts the most. The boy responded that he could not move his body and that he felt lightheaded.

The doctor responded, “ Well, the reason as to why you cannot move your body is because you have two compound fractures on your right femur, minor damages to the spinal cord, three fractures on the vertebrae,  and a minor pelvic fracture. You did however have a brain hemorrhage on the cerebrum from your accident, but we did immediately patch that up just a day ago.”

“I would recommend that you get more sleep, and I am kind of shocked that you are capable of waking up so fast after taking a good amount of painkillers and have gone through a brain surgery.”

The nurse called out the doctor that another patient was having breathing problems and needs medical assistance. The boy’s mother walks up to the boy and begins stroking his light brown curly hair.

“Mom do you know what happened to me?” the boy asked. Tears run down the mothers pale cheeks like runners racing down a track field.

“I-I really do not want...I do not know what happened,” responded the mother with her voice all muffled.

“I want to know,” whispered the boy.

The mother gasps a couple of times and responds, “Get some rest now.”

The girl in the corner of the room slowly slides down the wall to the floor covering her face and crying silently, hoping that no one in the room can hear her. The mother walks out with the guards following her back. Right after the mother left, the girl in the corner of the room gets to her feet and walks out the door of the room. Immediately after the girl’s presence has left the room, a studious man, with a shaggy beard, and dressed in a brown professor suit walks in. The man pulls up a chair on the left side of the boy and breathes heavily out. The boy flashes open his eyes and swings his head to the left staring into the man’s emerald green eyes.

“I see you have survived from that nasty fall,” said the man with a deep rustic voice.

“F- Fall?” responded the boy with a curious and amazed tone.

“It does seem reasonable that you have no recollection of what happened since you did damage your cerebrum.”
“Can you tell me what happened to me or at least how I fell?” asked the boy with a raspy dry voice filled with curiosity.
“How about I get you some water first.”

The man gets up from his chair, and walks around the boy’s hospital bed to the cabinet and fills a clear 12 oz. glass cup with lukewarm water. The man fills it up halfway and walks it over to the boy. The man elevates the boy’s upper body at a 30-degree angle with his right hand and tilts the glass cup at a 20-degree angle. The boy drinks slowly. Once the boy finishes half the water, the man sets the glass on the nightstand next to the boy and slowly lowers the boy’s upper body onto the bed. He walks back over to the chair and clears his throat.

“So once upon a time, there was a-”

“I’m not a child so you don’t have to do that, just give me the story with the raw information, that is all I want.” responded the boy with irritation in his voice.

“Well okay, no childish intros. Yes?” asked the man with a smirk on his face

“No childish intros.”

“I’m pretty sure that you haven’t forgotten the idea that you are a rich boy right?”

“Correct.”

“Since you didn’t lose the memory of coming from a rich family, I believe you know that your parents own one of the largest multinational retail corporations in the world, Wal-Mart Stores, Inc. or Walmart.”

“I still remember that my parents own Walmart, so go on,” responded the boy with anger in his tone.

“Okay, okay, sounds like you still have a lot of your memory intact except for how you fell and why you fell. So I will start off with that.”

“So your uncle, Mr. Walton, has some debt that he owes to Diabolik-”

“Who is Di-a-bo-lik?” ask the boy with uneasiness and curiosity.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have known that you don’t know your infamous mafia bosses or drug lords, since you’re only  adolescence and have parents restricting you from knowing about anything from the underworld,” responded the man with a cool, calm tone with his deep rustic voice.

“My parents don’t restrict me from doing anything that I want to know or do. I’m just not exposed to the poverty atmosphere and the people suffering from poverty that is all.” The boy shouted with rage in his tone.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Diabolik is the current Sicilian Mafia godfather located in Sicily, Italy. His real name is Matteo Messina Denaro, known to be a notorious criminal and killer in the world,” said the man with no tone in his voice.

“Is he in jail or is he dead?” asked the boy with an eager tone.

“He is not in any of those situations, he is in hiding currently, and he has his soldiers targeted at your family, the Walton’s,” responded the man with a murky tone.

“So you’re saying that my current condition is caused by my uncle owing money to Matteo Messina Denaro, am I right?” asked the boy with a curious but scared tone in voice.

“That’s right. However, your minor pelvic fracture and the upper femur compound fracture was cause by escaping from four of Matteo Messina Denaro soldiers. I’m guessing that they got a nice beating on you before you ran and jumped over the bridge, slamming down onto the train tracks and ending up in the situation that you are in.” Said the man

So that is what happened,” whispered the boy.

“You are pretty brave to jump off a 25 feet high bridge. I am impressed.” Acknowledge the man with excitement in his tone.

“Thanks. Who are you?” asked the boy with an eccentric tone.

The man gets up from his chair and begins to stretch, twisting his body from left to right and giving off small yawns. The man had a muscular figure, his blue polo was struggling to keep his pecks from busting out and his professor coat looked as if it was ready to rip any moment. The man’s jeans were ripping at random spots, looking just like jeans that can be obtain from any teenage clothing store.

“Do you mind if I hold off that question and get myself some coffee and possibly something to snack on?” asked the man.

“Just do it quick,” retorted the boy.

“Thanks,” responded the man.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

New Money, Old Money, and Everybody Else

The Great Gatsby is such an amazing book, the rising rich or the "New Money" gets discriminated or hated by the "Old Money", and an "Old Money" wanting to become a "New Money". The conflicting feelings from the old rich to the new rich is hands down the greatest conflict in a book. However, in the 20th century, the Great Gatsby was not consider to be a good book, only sold 20,000 copies and only had poor reviews. Until World War II when the book came with a comeback and became popular enough that high school students have to read it. Which leads to this blog.
The Great Gatsby setting is inspired by Robert F. Scott Fitzgerald's past in partying in Long Island. In addition to that, the Great Gatsby takes on a fictional personal experience of Robert F.  Scott Fitzgerald's life in Long Island. For example, Nick Caraway in the Great Gatsby is to be considered "Old Money" because "Old Money" attends Ivy League schools, inherits parents fortunes, and starts off in life with money to build their own company or to start a lavish life. Nick Caraway was offered money by his father and offered to have a business started off from his father loaning him some money. Nick Caraway denies the offer and decides to start from square one of becoming rich instead of what usual "Old Money"  people do, take money from their parents. Robert F. Fitzgerald attended an Ivy League school like Nick Caraway. However, Robert F. Scott Fitzgerald was more similar to Jay Gatsby, Fitzgerald did not come from "Old Money" he came from "Everybody Else" he was just an average Joe, born from an average class family. Just from telling where Jay Gatsby lives, it can be predicted that Jay Gatsby was not an "Old Money" because if he was, he would not be living in West Egg where the wealth people that just got "lucky" according to the "Old Money" and would be living in East Egg where the "Old Money" are living at. In comparison, Jay Gatsby and Fitzgerald both came from the same conditions when they were younger,they were "Everybody Else" and they both craved for being rich just to be with the love of their life who were in the high class in society. The difference between Gatsby and Fitzgerald would be that Gatsby was a character of what would happen if Fitzgerald was rich, but he did get the girl of his dreams, Zelda Syre just saying. So Gatsby became a "New Money" and would throw lavish parties at his mansion where "Everybody Else" and "Old Money" would come and party, but really, the party was to show Daisy Buchanan how wealth Jay Gatsby has become over the years. That he was now qualified to be her husband since he has money and that their children will become "Old Money".



Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Thankful

THANKSGIVING BREAK IS IN TWO DAYS!!!!!!!! SAY WHAT?! But then the break will go so fast and Sunday hits and you will be crying yourself to sleep because the next day is school and is a full week of school. What is even worse is having to see the people that you hate at school, but the good part about it would only be the seeing your friends after not seeing them for maybe five days and could catch up on some fun "stuff" you did and also see your crush again in the school. Speaking of friends, there is one man in 6th period Mr. McCarthy English II class that I am thankful for, technically speaking I really am not, but I promised him I would write about being thankful for him. So Se-bas-tian A-dam-Ski this one's for you. I am thankful for you giving me critical feedback on my narrative writing last Friday. I am also thankful for you sometimes reminding me what we had for homework for McCarthy, and at rare times helping me understand a text or a question that is being asked. I also won't forget about how you would tell me the summary of chapters that I didn't have time to read in the novels we read. Also thanks for making my first period fun instead of boring. You the man! (grammar error intended) I also love you in a none sexual way.  

Sunday, November 10, 2013

I Celebrate Myself

I really don't understand as to how the title "I celebrate myself" is related to transcendentalist or transcendentalism. But I guess writing this blog post can help me and maybe you, the reader, as to understand how the title "I celebrate myself" relate to the Transcendentalist or Transcendentalism.

In order to understand about Transcendentalist, it is best to talk about how they were formed since their formation was the basis for their beliefs. Couple of their beliefs was how you shouldn't be following the fad that everyone is going by, but follow your own fad that you want to go by. Another one would be that Society has corrupted the individuality of individuals.

Transcendentalism first emerged among the New England congregationalism, but were different in two ways with Calvinism, whom were a major branch of Protestantism who follow the theological tradition and forms of Christian practices of John Calvin.  The two differences that Transcendentalism and Calvinism had was that Transcendentalism rejected predestination, a doctrine that stated that all events were willed by God and the founder of Calvinism, John Calvin interpreted the biblical predestination to mean that God willed eternal damnation for some people and salvation for the others, and emphasized on the unity, but not the Trinity of God, unlike Calvinism.

 Transcendentalism wasn't considered to be formed as transcendentalism until the 18th century during rationalism, developed as a reaction  for rationalism. On September 8, 1836 in Cambridge, Massachusetts, Ripley and Emerson finds the Transcendental Club which is what allow people to call the artists, writers, and composers that create pieces that expresses the feelings of the American thoughts or the existential issues that were at hand during the American Renaissance or before the American Renaissance, or even the social changes that were going on and the lifestyle that  people had before as to the lifestyle that people were living in during the American Renaissance or when the change of lifestyle started to happen, transcendentalist.      

The writing on the history of transcendentalist or transcendentalism doesn't seem to help me or maybe also you, the reader, to understand the title of the blog post "I Celebrate Myself". Guess I will take another path to help us both understand. But first, the phrase "I celebrate myself" comes from one of Walt Whitman's poems called "Song of Myself", that focuses on three themes, the idea of yourself, the idea of yourself from other people, and the idea of yourself from nature and the universe. So basically the poem focuses on the individuality of a person from three different point of view- the view on yourself from the perspective of yourself, the view of yourself from the perspective of others around you, and the view of yourself from the perspective of the universe, the way how the world views you. Two of these types of point of views on self corrupts individuality according to the transcendentalism ideology and my opinion on individuality. Take a guess on which ones..... If you guessed that it was the point of view from others and the world, then you're correct. These two types of point of views on self corrupts individuality because the view from others is what influences you, yourself to copy what others do, imitation my friend, is what we call it. This doesn't allow you to show you true colors but allows you to show pretty colors that your peers or the people around only like. You have no sense of style, personality, and BASICALLY NO LIFE!! The view from the world is basically the view from society itself. Society in my opinion is what influences your peers to go away from their individuality and influence you like the way society influence them to remove their individuality. Society has its own norms that is what allows people to consider whether it is to be consider to be acceptable or plain weird, and everyone knows that it is best to fit in then to not and so everyone will throw away their own tastes for a taste that society believes is the best for everyone. Like for teens, you can only be consider accepted if you're wearing some famous brand name attire or having the latest phone or technological device or even having accounts for the latest social media websites.            

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Poe

When I look at the pictures of Edgar Allan Poe, he has the same mustache, never smiles, but I can see pain, tiredness, and sadness in his eyes. But it is reasonable for it to be so since he has, from the time of his childhood to his death he barely experienced happiness, but most of the time he felt sadness. It can be said that Edgar Allan Poe lived in an underworld of darkness, but in rare chances, he could escape the dark world temporary and live upon in the world of happiness, but would soon fall back into the underworld of darkness.

Edgar Allan Poe was born in Boston, Massachusetts, on January 19, 1809. His parents were both actors and in the year that he was born in, his parents were actors for a play called, "King Lear" by William Shakespeare, and the name of Edgar Allan Poe came from one of the name of the characters in the play. Interesting right? Edgar Allan Poe was the second child of his parents, Elizabeth Arnold Hopkins Poe and David Poe, Jr., his elder brother's was named, William Henry Leonard Poe. But wait, he had a little sister named, Rosalie Poe. At the age of one, Edgar Allan Poe's father left his mother, elder brother and younger sister. At the age of two, Poe's mother died from tuberculosis, from here, he was put into the orphanage with his siblings, but they all separated later on. Poe was taken in by a successful Scottish merchant in Richmond, Virginia in the name of John Allan. Poe's middle name, "Allan" came from the Allan family. The Allan family didn't technically adopt Poe but was only fostering him and giving him an education. In 1815, Poe was sent to Irvine, Scotland  to attend grammar school, then in 1816, he met up with his family in London and attended boarding school in Chelsea; he stayed until the summer of 1817, which after, he attended Reverend John Bransby's Manor House School at Stoke Newington. In 1820, Poe returned back to Richmond, Virginia with his family, the Allan's Family.On February 1826, before registering for University of Virginia, Poe was engaged with a woman named, Sarah Elmira Royster. This relationship faded as the time passed when Poe was attending the university of Virginia and his relationship with his foster father John Allan became estranged. His relationship with his foster father, John Allan was estranged because during his time at the University of Virginia, Poe gambled a lot and ended up in debt and used the money from his foster father, John Allan to pay for his debts. Ask yourself, would you really want to see the person that you just borrowed a large sum of money from and you know that you can't return it? This was the feeling that Poe had when he was to meet with his foster father. In a year, Poe dropped out of the university and felt not welcomed in Richmond. To worsen his pain, Sarah had married with a man named Alexander Shelton and he knows about it. In April 1827, Poe travels to Boston and accepts random jobs like newspaper writer, clerk. On May 27, 1827, Poe joins the military to support himself. During his time in the military, he released his first book that was a 40 page collection of poems called, "Tamerlane and other Poems" which didn't receive any attention from the public. One thing that Poe did accomplish during his time in the military or in his life so far was obtaining the highest rank a non-commissioned officer can achieve, Sergeant Major of Artillery. Poe wanted to discharge early but couldn't, until he reconciled with John Allan. Poe sent numerous letter to John, but he dismissed them. On February 28, 1829, Poe's foster mother dies, and the day after, Poe visited her burial. John decides to help Poe discharges and on April 15, 1829 Poe was discharged. In October 1830, John Allan married Lousia Patterson. Poe quarreled with John Allan on the marriage on that the children born to John were from affairs. These types of quarrels lead to the disowning of Poe. After a couple of years traveling around trying to sell his third volume of poem, Poe returns to Baltimore to his aunt, cousin, and elder brother who died on August 1, 1831 because of tuberculosis. Before marrying Virginia, his cousin, Poe was gaining fame from his works. After his marriage with Virginia, he gained more fame from working with magazine company's. Virginia was suffering through tuberculosis and died on January 30, 1847.
Never really did expect the biography on Poe to be this long, but to quicken this up, in summary, the biography on Poe written up above had the major points of the times he suffered through stress, sadness, and pain. The only ways that he knew how to cope through the pain he endured was either by drinking or gambling. Since even now gambling and drinking are one way to cope with pain, but it is temporary. Soon Poe learned how express his pain through the use of words and it was one way to cope with his pain. Like the Raven, it has a theme of dark, anger, and sadness. These themes expressed in the poem were the pain he felt when writing or stored within him. Or maybe like the Cask of Amontillado, the book revolved around anger and revenge. The anger can come from any major points in his life where someone died and he could be blaming it on God, (since he was baptized, so therefore he was forced or voluntarily chose to become Christian) and to release his anger and the feelings for revenge on the God for taking a loved one away could have stirred him to write the Cask of Amontillado. Most of the time when Poe was feeling emotional he would drink and in the Cask of Amontillado, the main character Montresor drunks Fortunato and makes him suffer by getting chained against a wall die slowly. I guess that Poe felt like he was Fortunato, he didn't die yet, but was going through a slow painful death series like Fortunato and Montresor was God, he was putting Poe to death but having Poe unknown on it.        

Thursday, October 17, 2013

What is an American?

First of all, I'm pretty confused on what I have to write for this blog post, but I'm guessing that I will soon understand when I start typing out whatever appears in mind when I think of the question, "What is an American?". So let's begin on a journey of confusion. To start off, the dictation of "American" is actually not what people think it is. Most people think that the dictation of "American" is people that inhabits the United States, but not to say that they're wrong, the technical definition of "American" is a native or inhabitant of the Western Hemisphere. So therefore, anyone that inhabits North America and South America is to be considered Americans, since the technical definition does say that an American is anyone that lives on the Western Hemisphere. But people don't consider inhabitants of South America to be Americans or Canada in North America to be Americans, but people only consider anyone that inhabits within the United States to be an American. Which I think can be explained as to why people think that people that inhabit United States are only to be considered Americans and not any other other country's inhabitants in the Western Hemisphere to be considered Americans.
     From what I've been taught in school and learned personally, people that immigrated to the United States during 20th century and after, and people that sailed to the Americas during the 1600s, had a common purpose, and that purpose was what defined every other human being inhabiting the Western Hemisphere to not be considered Americans except for the inhabitants of the United States. That purpose was the pursuing of the dream life that everyone wishes for. The immigrants from the 20th century and the 21st century came to America because they wanted to have a better life, a life of better opportunities, the life of living rich, providing their children or future generation a better education, immigrants wanted to start back at square one of their life, making sure that they will not commit the same mistake that they did when they were back at their homeland. This wasn't as similar as the 1600s people, but they did purse their dream life like the 20th and 21st century immigrants did. The 1600s people wanted to escape their homeland because of many different reasons like maybe the government banishing the practice of all other religions, but only allowing one type of religion to be able to be practiced in the country, or the escape of warfare in the country, maybe even to escape the country's economic downfall. There are so many reasons as to why people migrate over to the United States, but they all came over because they wanted to pursue their dream life and believed that the Americas or the United States is the only place that can make their dream life come true. Even if that dream life that never came true, the people that migrated over to the United States or the Americas at least tried to make it happen, and really, all that matters is trying and taking risks. This is want makes an American an American, taking risks to make a dream come true, even when the odds are against you.