Friday, May 9, 2008
Final Blog Portfolio
Dear Sister
From the Heart.
Dear Soldier,
I do not know your name. I probably never will. I probably will never see your face, or hear what you did for me. But thank you. Thank you for your courage. Thank you for your loyalty, and for your commitment to our country. I can’t even pretend to know what you could be going through. No one can. Even though you are normal people, probably the same age that I am, you are different. Your experiences in war set you apart. I can’t relate to them. Who can? Only your fellow soldiers. But do not feel alone. Your family your friends, your admirers are all supporting you. The day you come home will be the happiest day of your mother’s life. Your father will never feel prouder. To see that, to know how much they truly love you and missed you is a special feeling. Not many people get to feel that that strongly from their parents, because their parents did not fear for you day and night for months on end. You are their hero. You are my hero too. You are not superhuman. You have no great strength, no impenetrable armor. But you still fight for your country, and the people that you love. That is because you possess something much more important than super-abilities: a heart. Your heart, and the sacrifices it compels you to make are what make you such a hero. Anybody can be brave. Only a few can be a soldier.
Thank you, and God bless,
Joey Durbin
Gaining Control.
When I read this "secret" on PostSecret.com, I immediately thought this person came from a very controlling family. The poster tells their family that they are not following them to Harvard even though it has become a kind of tradition. The family obviously expected it, even though the poster also points out that they do not have sufficient money to waste it on Harvard just for the name. I think, based on the little information given in this "secret", that the poster needed to defy their family in this. If they are so intent on their child going to this school, it is likely that they hold tight reins in many other aspects of their child's life as well. This is the poster's way of claiming their life as their own. The poster will make their own decisions about what they want in life, regardless of what the family thinks they should do. I believe that all children need to consider for themselves what is best for their lives when it comes to college. If they decide college isn't for them, that should be their own choice to make. As children, we will always value the advice and opinions of our parents, but at some point we need to take control of what we do and do not. Thursday, May 8, 2008
War and Peace.
War is eternal
Humans will always have it
It should not be so
The soldiers die young
They fight to save their country
They are our heroes
The missiles will fall
They will fall like rain of death
To take away our hope
The night bleeds softly
Death is lurking in the air
Only they can help
The jungle turns orange
Orange as the color of death
War has no winners
Sit.
I sat. I sat in what used to be my room. I sat in what used to be my room, in what used to be my house. I sat in what used to be my house in what used to be my town. I sat.
We never even knew they were coming. There was no warning. I was on my way home from school. It had been a good day. I’d gotten a date with Lana, the girl I had been crazy about for the past year. I’d gotten an A on the hardest Calculus test ever conceived. It had been a good day.
At first, I could only feel that something was wrong. The ground started shaking, like an earthquake. But this was Tucson. We don’t have earthquakes. The people in the cars around me all looked confused. Some started to pull over, but I kept going. I was only five minutes from home, I could figure out what was happening there.
I was at the last light before home when the possibility of an earthquake became nonexistent. The light had just turned green. I was second in line. The car in front leapt out into the intersection. It never made it through. Simultaneous with the car’s movement, a jet streaked by overhead. The car exploded. Wrenching the wheel to the left, I tried to get away, as fast as I could. To my horror, the explosions continued. I couldn’t see anything, including the pickup that I ran into.
The impact was enormous. The pickup has tried to get away the same as I had. My seatbelt snapped, and my head smashed into the windshield. Disoriented, I was only vaguely aware of my arm being bent in a way that was definitely not normal. I got out, and I ran.
I hid in the desert as the explosions kept going. They lasted forever. Buildings were in ruin everywhere. Strange soldiers soon followed the explosions, shooting anybody they could see; men, women, and children. Everybody. I hid, inching my way through the dirt and cactus, ignoring m body screaming in pain. I had to get home.
I was too late. My family…they were gone. They were gone. My house was standing, but barely. In shock, I went into my room, and I sat.
I’m still sitting here. It’s been almost an hour. I can hear the gunshots and the soldiers moving up my street, looking for survivors in the wreckage. They’re getting closer. Soon, they will find me. But I can’t move. I have nothing to move to anymore. In silence, I sit.