Wondrous World

[NeoSeminole]

I wrote this paper in college, and thought maybe those of you who like to read might enjoy.

As I wake up from my nightly ritual, I am greeted with familiar scenery. Everything appears exactly as I had left it. Feeling bare after a gentle gust of cool air, I notice my bed sheets sprawled on the floor before me. I must have experienced turbulence during my lengthy journey. Descending from my vessel, I leave a fetal imprint in the mattress where I lie. The soft, wooly terrain beneath my tiny feet signals yet another successful mission. My bed is my ship and I am the captain. Every night I climb aboard, eager to learn what new destination awaits me in the dream world. Fully clad in my pajamas, I ride my horseless chariot into the limitless reaches of the fantastic, fanciful human mind.

My room is my mini universe: my small refuge from the responsibilities of adulthood. I enjoy the simplistic, blissful five-year-old life. I do not have a worry in the world. Everything is given to me. My living quarters house all my necessities: a bed, a closet, a drawer, a small desk for me to doodle on, and toys. I can entertain myself for hours on end in my room. I have an impressive collection of toys that run the gamut of action figures and motor vehicles. They include superheroes, army men, mutant creatures, aliens, cars, trucks, and buses. When I leave the room, my toys stand guard and protect my fortress from unauthorized intruders. My favorite toy is Firefighter Dan.

My abode is a conglomerate of style and architecture. Each room is as unique as an individual island is to an archipelago. The staircase acts as a strait, bridging together the first and the second floors. Solid black cherry wood furniture in the kitchen compliments the warm, vivacious atmosphere. The winter white walls are laden with memories and await new ones to be forged. In the living room a limestone fireplace emanates a tinge of serenity that permeates the entire house. Family portraits and decorative pottery extend a cordial invitation to guests. Glass furnishings and fine china add charm and beauty to the dinning room.

In the kitchen, my caretakers, whom I call Mom and Dad, meet me with their tender embraces. They are the greatest parents in the whole world. They are gentle and affectionate with me. They treat me well and are always there when I need them. They console me when I am disheartened and take care of me when I am ill. They take good care of me and never hesitate to answer my cries with their full, undivided attention. My parents are wonderful. I love them very much.

Mom is a beautiful, loving woman. She is graceful, poised, intelligent, kind, and compassionate. She cooks me food and cleans my room. She reads me stories and watches television with me. My mom and I sometimes watch Sesame Street and Mr. Roger’s together. She sings to me and tucks me in bed. I like it when she massages my scalp with her soft silky hands. She helps me with my homework and lets me assist her in the garden.

Dad is a remarkable man. He is patient, clever, funny, spry, brave, and caring. He rewards me with toys and takes time off from his busy schedule to spend with me. We play games together like hide-and-seek and Candyland. Sometimes, my dad and I dress up and pretend to be fictitious characters that we invent. We then walk around the house wearing our costumes. He takes me to the park to be with other children. He is brave; he checks for monsters in my room at times when I am too scared to fall asleep at night. We have yet to find the elusive boogieman.

One time my, dad took me camping. We spent two nights out in the woods, isolated from civilization. This was my introductory lesson to man’s co-existence with nature. During the first day, we collected wood for a fire. I was designated commanding officer of holding the lamp. It was an important task, but my dad felt I was up to the challenge. Everywhere he went I was right there beside him lighting the way. When night fell upon us, we saw many lightning bugs. I caught a few in a jar and fervently showed them to my dad. I wanted to convey to him the wonders I discovered. He told me in the most humane, kind-hearted of ways to release them because if I did not, then they would not be able to make more lightning bugs. I told the little luminous creatures I was sorry and set them free again for others to enjoy. That night my dad and I made a bonfire to keep away any bears and wild animals that might stumble upon our camp. I watched as my dad controlled the flames like a sorcerer commands a demon. He could manipulate the size of the fire simply by adding or removing wood.

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[NeoSeminole]

On our second day of camping, we went hiking through the woods. As I walked alongside my dad, I took in the sights and sounds of nature all around me. Soon I became immersed in Gaia’s beauty. Before me was a plethora of colors that seemed to encompass the entire electromagnetic spectrum. I was in awe of her majesty. Vivid flowers painted a surreal landscape that not even Leonardo could capture on canvass. I could smell the sweet aroma radiating from them. Busy little bees bustled about as they pollinated these delicate, pretty marvels of nature. I was enchanted by the canorous whistling of the birds from above. As I passed by a tree, I noticed a spider spinning her intricate web. I stopped for a moment to study intently this wonderfully dexterous engineer of the animal world as she practiced her craft. The brilliant green of vegetation that enveloped me resonated the beating heart of Mother Earth. It was a comforting reminder of my much grander home, Earth.

As I eat scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast, my dad informs me he is taking me to the park. I am ecstatic because I enjoy playing with other people my age. Their imaginations aren’t limited by the shackles of prosaicness and anxiety that constrain adults. In our minds we can take on a slew of different personas. I can be a power ranger, a soldier, or a ninja turtle. I like to pretend I am Superman. In my head, I become the invincible hero – impervious to the mortal limits of physicality. The swing is my garb for flight. I suit up and spring into the air, soaring higher and higher into the celestial horizon. When it’s time to leave I revert to my calm, laid-back self.

After breakfast, my dad and I drive over to the park. As we arrive, I see many children are already there. Through the front windshield of his car I observe as they scurry about the playground like ants in a colony. They are doing what kids do best – having fun. I watch excitedly as they play and run wild. Meanwhile, the parents congregate outside of the playground under the shade of trees. The fathers are preparing a barbecue and joking with one another, while the mothers exchange stories and keep an eye on the children.

When I am around adults, I feel like a foreigner amongst a forest of giants. Everyone ascends high above me like mighty sequoias; their brobdingnagian presences dwarf me in comparison. The dewdrops of their tenderness dribble on me from their outreaching branches. On sunny days, these gentle behemoths provide me with shade. They also come in an array of colors. In the spring and summer their foliage has a fresh, green appearance. Grays and whites gradually creep in and pervade the countryside during autumn, and by winter most of their leaves have fallen off.

Walking over to the playground together, my dad and I hold hands. Once we reach the perimeter he gets down on one knee and smilingly tells me to go have fun, accompanying his words with a kiss on my forehead. We hug, and I kiss him on the cheek. Turning my attention to the other children I race over to them, roaring with enthusiasm. A smile reaching from ear to ear is cast over my face. This is the life. I am in heaven.

[AdminOnline]

Should have give us a warning ... i just got attached by a wall of text..

[NeoSeminole]

loveadmin says:

"Should have give us a warning ... i just got attached by a wall of text.."

??? first sentence: I wrote this paper in college

[doppelgaenger]

I'll save this thread and post a paper I wrote for a 101 class. It's a reflection of some chick flick we had to watch. Believe it or not, I actually got an A on this, even though I was fed up with the curriculum and was just seeing what I could get away with.

What other movie could be so accurate in describing love, romance, and relationships, as He's Just Not That Into You? The men in the movie are very anti-commitment, dishonest, cheating, lazy idiots. Well, we men know we're not perfect, but this movie was really embarrassing for me, as a male to watch. The flaunting eloquence of the female roles in the movie aside, I could not possibly feel any more remorse for mankind, as such that I had felt during the movie, knowing what such minions of Hell roam the earth. The Ben guy even alleged that no man wants to get married. The audacity! He cheated on his wife! If there were a just and loving god, he would not allow such a moron to be married. May his lips be sewn shut for such blasphemy! The Neil guy was completely afraid of commitment, and insisted that his relation continue without marriage. What kind of man is afraid of commitment? Or, anything at all? If the director wanted to portray a realistic film on love and relationships, that's what we'd see; fearless men fighting dragons and the minions from hell as portrayed in this movie – to save his damsel in distress. And then get married! All of this in comparison to the other weasels, who use women and discard them after their little one-night-stands. Obviously, whichever remaining shards of the movie, poorly conglomerated into some kind of entertainment, or for me, a third degree torturing device, is enough to reinforce the negative view we have of men in our society. If this movie somehow transformed into some poor girl's mother, her daughter would forever be doomed to a life of chastity and abstinence. I can already hear the lecture on “what slimes the men of the earth are,” and “remember what your father was like.” Of course, not to deny that there are quite a few weasels out there, but this movie completely bashed men.

Meanwhile, the hearty women of this delectable film are given the prepubescent qualities of needy and manipulative. Not to forget naïve, overly analytical, and so on. We see the dedicated wife Janine, looking for the best interest of her for-lack-of-a-better-word husband, does not want him to smoke. In finding a pack of cigars, which cut the sole remaining thread holding their marriage together, Janine decides to divorce him. This would be regarded by our inexperienced, teenage peers as the most logical response, and we can clearly assume Ben probably stopped smoking if he ever was at all. Of course, cheating is acceptable, but no smokey-smokey for Ben. I must admit, however, Janine's anti-smoking campaign was a bit frightening, even to a nonsmoker like me. There was obviously a lack of trust somewhere in the foundation of their relationship, leading me to believe that that relationship was fubar from day one. On the other hand, I will never understand what drives a woman to make an ultimatum to get married. If Beth had a good relationship with Neil (Completely oblivious to all the crap relationships around her) then it was stunningly selfish of her to manipulate Neil into such a commitment. How very “I WANT A DIAMOND RING TO SHOW OFF TO MY FRIENDS” of her. This is all in contrast to girls like Gigi (It was the name, which was unattractive), who is so naïve that she falls in love with the hairiest of all the weasels. Of course, we can only expect such girls to maintain a highly elaborate Myspace profile for easy access on the clock, where she gossips about all the boys who love her with the anti-smoking witch, whose husband won't follow her without a leash. After seeing how poorly inaccurate women were portrayed in this film, I find it safe to conclude that the screenwriter must have dated baboons. The extent to which this delusion of a movie derives reality is enough to induce Schizophrenia on the sanest of humanity.

I don't recall a particular instance in the movie where Anna and Mary discuss love at first sight. I must have been absent for that portion. However, I do not like hearing opinions that try to debunk the whole idea. I despise those who say “Oh, love is just a chemical in your brain.” To that, I dismiss the biological view, which is biased in its own way. “Love at first sight” is a poetic notion that is often taken too literal. One commonly debated idea is that we don't know if we love someone unless we've been with them for a little while. To that, I ask “How come?” I don't think you need to know someone on a personal level to love them. Look at the hippies. They had love for everyone! Another criticism I give, is, do you need to know what money is to love it? Money is ambiguous by definition. Money can be earnings, currency, a simple coin or piece of paper. For others, it is simply a metaphor for power; life. Even food. It can also be a symbol of the chaotic corporate world in the eyes of those in poverty. More on topic: some men use money as a symbol of status – sometimes it works. Women tend to be attracted to 'successful' men. Money can be perceived as a symbol of that. Value is determined by the individual. Is love then determined by worth or definition? We can rationally conclude that love is not objective. Love is abstract; defined by the individual. Can we then not love a person simply as a human? How about as an identity of our culture? Can a man love a woman simply for being a woman? And likewise? Can we not love a person for the sake of beauty, or are we too primal for that? Is there only room for lust in our hearts, or can we truly admire the aesthetic value of one's body, male or female? What about ugliness? Can we not love ugly people? What about his or her personality? Kindness is a quality that goes a long way, and charms the hearts of many. It's cheesy but true!

Society will shy away from the idea of love at first sight, because love is uncomfortable. We dismiss love at first sight as something crazy and immature. If someone walked up to us in the street and said “I love you!,” We would instantly feel uncomfortable, especially if they meant it intimately. How much more awkward would it be to say “I love you, too, asshole!,” and then kiss? By the way, the Russians do this. We feel uncomfortable when we watch a movie with sex scenes or kissing moments, because love and affection are uncomfortable. Public affection may be considered rude. Public love discussion? - Good luck! Sometimes people pretend like they are in love, to get the form of affection they need. That is a weasel-like area of expertise, as we saw in the movie. Is that, then, why people say that we have to 'know' someone before we love them? Do we have to make sure someone is real before we love them, or can we love them for their ability to fool everybody? Or is there a certain level of truth that we can't reach without spending time with them? Is there a certain amount of compatibility? Or do you need to trust someone to love them? Why can't we trust people in general? Who makes the rules? Who tells us what we need in order to love someone? What is love?

[AdminOnline]

loveadmin says:

"Should have give us a warning ... i just got attached by a wall of text.."

??? first sentence: I wrote this paper in college

lol.. i was joking.

[lovesjoyajm]

..........wow.