1. Visual Description: “Entering the large VWF hall, we were struck by the chemical odor of a cleaning solution so strong that it seemed toxic. The hall had no windows, only fluorescent lighting illuminated the large space… The cackle of a television set was the only sound. There were several rows of cots and mattresses with a few people lying on them.” (p. 128, paragraph 2)
2. Dialog: “When she opened the front door, the whole street looked like a river, and water poured in. She described it as ‘rushing like the Colorado River.’” (129, paragraph 3)
3. Sensory: “Her tongue became dry and her lips were cracked, but she only was aware of being terrified of the water.” (130, Paragraph 3)
4. Writing Ideas: Barry lessons at Odyssey, learning and writing about my great-grandfather in 8th grade, my first time writing for me. (poetry), first time finishing a big book (Ender’s Game)
5. I want to share the story of me writing for fun for the first time, because I still remember the enlightening feeling that I got from it. It was a mental cleansing of sorts. I want to share a memory, and hopefully inspire others to write for themselves too.
6. I feel like anyone who enjoys English will know the feeling that I got from this. Many people write in journals or diaries to put their thoughts on paper, work out problems, or express themselves privately.
7. I want my readers to see me as someone who was developing as a person, and finding himself. I want the piece to feel soft and comfortable, while also showing how I conquered some inner demons through poetry.
8. I believe the best design for this piece to get my message across is a written narrative. I still remember the moment I decided to try writing. I was in my room on a rainy fall evening, surfing youtube on my small, noisy laptop. I had a lot on my mind, and I was able to let it out through my writing. This imagery and setting would be hard to show in a different media type.
9. The white, postered walls of my room (soccer posters, video game posters, Legolas, John Cena), the window by my side shows my dark yard, and rain dripping from the roof past my window. I see the black metal bed frame at my feet, and the brown sheet with colorful fish on it. I am on my small black laptop.
10. I hear the rain falling onto the deck (pit pat pit pat lol), the soft hum of my laptop, and the occasional bark of my dogs downstairs. The wind is also blowing the chimes on our deck, creating a beautiful cadence
11. I smell the fresh rain, and the special party mix my mom is baking downstairs
12. I feel bored, conflicted, and frustrated with my situation. I am comfortable in my sweatpants and sweater, and the soft memory foam bed.
13. I taste NOTHING
14. Characters: me, myself → Me: I am a tall, skinny boy. On this cold weekend day, I am wearing black soccer pants, and a loose fitting sweater. I am outwardly comical and talkative when around others, but when alone I often get antsy, nervous, and a little sad. I’m not so sure how to cope with some things going on in my life, and being alone with my thoughts gives me time to reflect. Myself: I am the solution searching side of myself. I am constantly trying to think of different activities and things to distract, or help myself. I think of possibly writing some poems to ease my mind, and give my thoughts some rhythm.
15. I recall having an internal conversation with myself. Asking what I should do with myself. It’s the weekend, I’m bored, no friends are coming over, I can’t play outside, and I don’t feel like talking with my mom downstairs. What do I do? Watch some cat videos? Nah, not feeling it. Play that sushi game on miniclip? Nah, too much brain power used. Draw something? Nope, I’m too frustrated and too much of a perfectionist to enjoy it. Play xbox? Nah, my mom will get angry. WRITE A POEM? Hmm….. but about what? You know, life stuff… dogs, sunshine, leaves or something… but make sure it rhymes. Bento doesn’t like a rhymeless poem.
16. The action of my narrative is struggling with my internal demons, then defeating them through poetry. I remember pacing around my room thinking of what to do, then I settle on trying to write. The rhythm is soothing to me, like music, and thinking about topics with deeper meanings help shed some light on my issues. Writing about my issues helped me to unravel it, and start piecing the puzzle together.
17. This moment was meaningful to me, because it helped me understand myself better, and it gave me a sense of calm and purpose. I haven’t done this for a while, but I learned how to think about my situation differently through poetry. Poetry has a way of revealing hidden truths, and resolving things in strange ways. This also connected me to my music more, which I still use as a coping mechanism today. I feel like I could still be lost in my thoughts without that day happening.