I like this. I think for me this place is my backyard. I appreciate the simplicity of it, but it captures my attention.
We are all standing around and talking. The alcohol has been flowing and the cigarettes have been smoked( not by me) and my new friend says something not out of the blue about cancer. About how if we die of cancer it’s not that bad. In America we are lucky to grow old enough to die of cancer. What do you think?
It’s bizarre. But the words, “lucky enough to grow old enough to die of cancer”?
Wouldn’t it be better to say we live longer therefore we will be alive with feeling and experience? I just don’t know.
But dying of cancer, it doesn’t seem lucky at all… =/
What if what you all along thought to be right turned out to be all one giant horrific lie? That is the unimaginable truth faced by Jonas the main character in the book adaptation of The Giver. The movie was not what I expected. The array of commercials showed a strong deviation from the novel with disheartened me. By the end of the movie, I did not mind for my eyes witnessed something greater than a movie based on a book that is accurate, it showed the triumph of love. At the beginning Jonas says “Our master said I should be punished for what I did. I’ll let you decide.” Having read the book, I instantly had my answer but was suddenly put off by how futurist it was. The apprehensiveness that Jonas experienced in the book was not really there and it seemed overacted. I soon realized that was intention and to show the lack of emotions in the community. For in this community there is no pain. It is made into a seemingly utopian society that Jonas, through his unique job selection discovers is anything but that.
However, the scene where Jonas experiences snow, a sled, and color are such stunning scenes that they move your heart. It makes life worth living to see Jonas so happy. The actor chosen to play Jonas is simply brilliant. I cannot say enough for how he carries the movie. Fiona was well played too, but Asher seemed sinister and I did not like that aspect. This movie begs the question: Does sameness equal peace? When Jonas realizes what else is out there he knows the answer. Meryl Streep does an amazing job of playing a twisted character. She explains to the Giver that “the boy must hold in the pain”. Now we understand the Giver who was the Receiver of memory’s job: to feel all the pain and have actual emotions while everyone else lives a false reality. As for Jonas he says about discovering the memories “I got lost, the good kind of lost.” The Giver gives wise advice saying “Don’t accept the truth just because it comes from someone you respect.” This is a scary thought but one Jonas really must ponder as he goes on in his journey. When Jonas realizes what is about to happen he takes drastic action and the scene where The Giver pleads with the chief elder is so heartbreaking but beautiful. This entire moving is a journey about fighting for preserving love. It left me breathless.
I want that hug that once encompassed my body back. Those hugs that ignited such deep feelings of love. Every time I hugged you, I never wanted to release you from my arms. I miss your smile so terribly. All the tears I’ve shed don’t seem to put distance between my reality and those memories. I want to feel your arms around me so badly that it hurts my skin. I want you to come to my house and tell me you’ve changed your mind. Instead I dream. Usually I dream I’ve met someone and we are in a budding romance. There is flirting and nervousness followed by a calm like in all new relationships. But if I think of the last time I felt ecstasy, I remember your arms.
The Method of my “Madness”
There are a few things (men, politics, and death) that are more complex than the psych behind writing. It is sporadic, impulsive, indiscriminately, timeless, impossible, and delightful. Writing is a journey with stepping stones: great leaps or tiny steps, it’s going forward that’s important. The steps I go through during a writing assignment depend on what kind of time limit there is and what type of essay it is. Is it a poem? Is it a twenty page research paper? I always start brainstorming ideas for the main point of the paper no matter if it is big or small. Ideas and inspiration come to me at the most awkward times (the bus, the bathroom, at a movie). I group together these ideas into a topic before the real work begins.
I usually do not consider my audience too much at this time. I work in such a fashion fervently, and although I know it is for a teacher’s eyes only, I write to a universal audience, hoping all my efforts were not in vain. Poetry is the art form I adore, and I generally can captivate a large audience with. I use elements such as rhyming or repetition in my poetry and in my writing. Another way that I mesmerize the audience is when I write to the sound of classical music. When I write it makes me feel like I am on a journey, and I am taking my audience with me.
Speaking of journeys, the method I take is not organized. Its profile fits only the essay to which it was assigned. My support method behind it is not a method so much as it is a vision. After I research or consider ever angle I deceiver and deduct which is not just the strong point but the one I want to bring to attention. Lists are very helpful way for me to find ideas that work and ideas that don’t such as diction. I must often change, flip and rearrange my wording but syntax is something I don’t feel I achieve too often. The last element which I find related to syntax is the proofreading, which I do. Usually I have a sibling check my work as well and in the past multiple teachers have viewed my writing. I am not too pleasant while hearing criticism, but I will take it and try to spin a better story. As for a four hundred work limit, I am not use to word limits. So checking the word count is now like stopping for gas on my writing journey. I cannot go on to write without it.
I remember many moments in our wondrous lives, but it is this one moment I choose to share with you on this faithful day, today, our wedding. You probably don’t remember this day in great detail but I with such precision recall the day I am able to sketch it for your mind to see. We were out in the meadow; William was quite a young boy. It was the day I fell in love with you. Granted the prior days showed signs of our budding love. That day set forth the motions that brings us to today. You seemed so bothered, pestered, preoccupied with things I’m not certain of and I don’t truly understand. Love is a complex concept, I see that now. I do know this; I still have that sea shell you instructed me to keep. I still have permanently placed in my mind the way you looked at me. Truly Victor, I give you all of me, mind, body, and soul. I must now seal this letter for I hear approaching footsteps. They must be yours! Oh, my Victor! We are together at last!
I want to feel and be real
I do know I’m not made of steel
My body hurts
Collapses in the dirt
My body reels
my skin peels
lays of pain
there is no gain
I want to be allowed to feel pain or joy
Whichever it is
I want the choice not the chains
Not the restrictions locked on my brain
I want to laugh freedom
Or cry discreetly
But I want to feel and be real about it