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Monthly Archives: October 2011
Monologue
In my senior year of high school, when all of my friends were discussing about which colleges to apply, i was thinking about if i should go to college, because I’m an overage student with poor fluency in English. College class will be very difficult for me. But ,if I go to work instead of attend college,I would not waste the time, and make my parent easy. And, I had read about many stories about famous people who didn’t finish college, such as Henry Ford and Steve Jobs. All of the life experiences of those people showed that the social experiences are more important than college education to one’s success.
However, my uncle laughed at me, and said:” Well, I agree that college education isn’t necessary for doing things, such as you don’t need degree in business to start your own business, or you don’t need degree in computer science to fix a computer. But, for you, the reality is that you don’t even know the language. How can you quit the school while you can’t even read newspapers? Or if you only want to live in Chinese community and get jobs that only serving Chinese customers. it’s fine. But it is definitely a boring life in new york. And , your immigration lost its significance if you still only live with Chinese.”
I admitted his opinion, continued my study in college. Also, my low wage parttime job reminds me, without education, life will be just as terrible as the parttime job.
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Let Me Start Off This Letter Saying I Don’t Like You.
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show details 12:37 AM (0 minutes ago)
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Im always the one to blame. I know i know ive made some mistakes in my past. Ive let down a lot of people. Ive hurt those that im closest with. and you remember each and every thing ive done wrong, and in vivid detail. But can i ask, why dont u remember any of the good i do? Frankly, all of that goes unnoticed. Nothing good i do is ever noticed until i stop doing it. Do i ever get a thanks, or a good job when i do something good? Nope. Is it because im quiet? Is it because im shy? But have i ever seen u there for me when i cry? Na, Ive never even seen you try. Do u like pointing out all my flaws? I bet you do, no wonder why yoire always there to banter me with hate. I’m starting to think that all this real love youre showing me is fake. But you know what, its all ok. Because it made me realize a lot. It made me realize Im not your lover, and im not youre friend, im something you will never comprehend. Forget the past, im looking towards tomorrow, because all that ive had in my life is pain and sorrow. The days are turning to months, months turn to years, time is movin faster than i can wipe my tears. Its like im some sort of… Enigma, trying to call out for love, but my mouth can only whisper. Maybe someday youll realize who you lost, and how we this could have been our fate, but by the time you realize that, it will be too late. I never said that you mean the world to me, maybe its best that you never know.
And please take it personal. Because it’s personal.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNNX2TDxnwM
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More Than A Game
Some play for the hype, some play for the perks. some play for the fans. But the true ball players play for the love of the game. For me basketball was more than game. All my friends were up to no good, started makin trouble in the neighborhood. Got in a couple bad fights and my mom got mean, told me get my act together or im off my travel team.
Basketball kept my grades up. All my coaches stressed academics and we all had to take SAT classes in order to get Nike to sponser us. From Cali, to Disney to Ohio and Singapore basketball has helped me explore different cultures and people across the world. Basketball introduced me to the girl of my dreams but eventually took her away . From top 100 camps , awards dinners handshakes from congressmen there was no better honor than seeing my little brother outside getting shots up after my game trying to be like his big brother.
To you its just a game to me its a way of life.
#hooplife
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YOU, HIM, and I Monologue By Kimberly
YOU, HIM, and I
I thought I was in love once.
It turns out that the third time isn’t always the charm.
I thought it was me, was I doing something wrong?
I tried to change for YOU.
I tried to “BE AGGRESSIVE, BE BE AGGRESSIVE!” ‘Cause I knew YOU liked those types of girls instead of quiet girls who “lived inside the box”, which YOU once said I was.
YOU broke my heart three times. But of course YOU would never admit to that.
YOU would play the victim like always.
For almost two years YOU were the reason I was either super happy or super sad.
I felt bi-polar, there was no in between.
I wanted to hate YOU, I really did. But I couldn’t bring myself to.
I remember praying once and saying that if I couldn’t make YOU happy then I just wished that YOU found someone else who could and even though it wouldn’t be me, I would be happy for YOU.
YOU took me for granted; YOU thought I was weak, didn’t YOU?
But you know what? I want to thank YOU.
YOU gave me the two greatest gifts of all without even knowing it.
First off, YOU gave me confidence.
You see, I did a little soul searching while YOU were bust breaking my heart.
I realized then that there was nothing wrong with me. To me, I was perfect.
YOU helped me to find the strength to “live outside the box” and see that I didn’t really love nor need YOU.
And second, YOU gave me HIM.
At once, I knew I was in love.
HE makes me laugh and smile.
HE tells me I’m perfect for him and that he wouldn’t even change one little thing about me, unlike YOU.
HE read me the poem Queen by Pablo Neruda and said this is what he thinks of me,
That even if no one else can see my crystal crown, HE can, “And when you appear all the rivers sound in my body, bells shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world.”
HE’s the reason I sing and dance all around my room when no one is home to a whole bunch of love songs.
I wouldn’t have met HIM without YOU.
So at the end, all I have to say is thank YOU.
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Monologue
I wish I had lavish tales that I could share but I can’t think of any right now, I’m from Jamaica Queens and there isn’t much to glamorize or embellish. So I’ll share a rant about a random thought:
Don’t you hate when you’re walking and the person heading your way is not concentrating on where they’re going. You try to adjust your path so it doesn’t conflict with theirs but they end up intersecting you regardless. Then there’s an awkward standstill where you both engage in a little shuffle of the feet, a retarded dance of some sort, both of you failing to choose the right direction. It can be annoying, baffling, heck even an embarrassing experience but after that you’re on your way and it’s a thing of the past. I think this is an interesting life analogy. There will always be awkward shuffles here and there but don’t let it delay and detract you from your path. Peace!
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A Definition of Me
I am defined by my words, because it is hard to do as I say, and not as hard to do as I do.
I fear disappointment–not disappointing others–but disappointing myself. Failing. I set goals for myself, not for anyone else. If I don’t reach my own expectations, then what is my worth but an empty human casing with others’ standards filling me only halfway up? By those means, I am not creating my individual; I am creating some individual with some expectations of another man’s universe. I know my own worth, and it’s heavy when I fail to reach it.
I value morals. And I value values. My morals and my values make me who I am. Who I am does not define my values and morals, however. When it comes down to it, I am aware and understanding of change, and I adapt fairly consistently to my surroundings. What was once “me” may not be me later. But I still maintain values. Changing values? Sure. But values nonetheless.
I have passions, and I have dislikes. I have hobbies, and I have my time to relax. I know when I want to try, and I know when I don’t. My priorities may be screwed up in your eyes, but in mine, they’re perfectly fine. I wear what I want to wear, and sometimes I feel like wearing sweat pants—especially on Mondays, because I hate Mondays just as much as I hate writing ten page essays about topics I’m not in the least bit interested in.
It is not as easy to define me in words as it is by my actions as I often do not think before I speak nor do I think before I do. I am me, and “me” is a rather complex term to define both in words and actions. Because I do what I want, but do not always say what I want. But what I want may be better understood through my words.
Today I am me, and tomorrow I am still me. But tomorrow, I will be the same me with different values and understandings; different actions and passions; different morals and different clothes. But I am still me.
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To Sleep or Not To Sleep
To sleep or not to sleep.
Sleeping brings me the utmost satisfaction.
Sleeping also gives me less time to study &do homework.
The line that must be drawn between sleep &work is indefinitive.
Sleep will help me survive the next day of school and work.
Studying all night will possibly help me get a better grade on my exam.
What is more important to me?
I’ve got a full day of work and school tomorrow.
How will I last without a long rested sleep?
Sleep happens to been one of the most important parts of my day.
To go to sleep or not to go to sleep?
One choice gives me such incredible satisfaction,
while the other will bring me anger and most likely utter exhaustion.
Why am I faced with this question every single day?
Why am I always forced to answer this question with the decision to have less sleep?
You would think at some point, this question wouldn’t be asked.
Unfortunately, I will probably have to sacrifice my sleep for more and more throughout the rest of my entire life.
Realistically, sleep will be sacrificed in order for us to achieve any significant success.
But my issue with this realism is accepting lacking sleep for almost the rest of my life.
Sometimes I wonder how much I could possibly go on.
I know I sound overexaggerative, but I speak for all of us when I ask,
Are we ever going to get a break?
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Monologue – Josh T.
Joshua Tab Freshman Seminar: Monologue
When I was nine years old, I made my first business deal. My mom was never a genius when it came to technology, so when she had something to do online, she would always turn right to me, her youngest son. My road to entrepreneurship all began with this fur coat. It was among a pile of unwanted belongings my mother kept in our attic. She asked me to sell it online. Naturally, I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. I remember asking, “Online to where?” She responded “eBay.” So I went on Google, searched “eBay,” clicked on the website and clicked “sell.” An hour later, there was a bidding war going on for an old coat stuffed behind boxes in my attic. As I grew older, my “businesses” became more and more proficient. I was continuously striving to find ways to expand. By the age of thirteen, I realized it’s not what you know; it’s who you know. So I started talking to everybody, even people I didn’t know. I started a MySpace page, a YouTube account and a FaceBook group where I would advertise my cousin’s new clothing business. For every t-shirt bought online from his website using my “code,” I would get a commission. The five hundred dollars I made during the first week of having the MySpace page led me to believe I was very persuasive, even when convincing total strangers to buy clothes. So I started to wonder how well I would do in convincing people I did know. A week or so later, nearly all of my friends were wearing a new shirt, sweater or pair of jeans. My business only ended when my cousin ran out clothes.
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Monologue: Identity Theft
Who am I? Is my name and how I look my only identity? Or is it the color of my skin or the texture of my hair that defines my ethnicity to
people? Or is the language that I speak that tells people where my origins are
from? Where have I come from? If my parents were born in Pakistan, does that
make me Pakistani or an American since I’ve been brought up here? What will I
become when I’m older? Will I ever be able to get a great paying job and
achieve happiness at the same time? Will I ever get married like all of my
other cousins? Or will I end up single all of my life and become someone I want
to be without being tied down to anyone? Will I go to heaven or hell? Does the religion I follow accept me as a
wrongdoer or a righteous person? Will I ever be able to answer all these
questions that arise when I’m in solitude? All these questions come up when I’m
sitting by myself but am I really ever alone? Does my brain tell me to do
something while my heart yearns for something else? What happens when you stop
thinking or thinking about feelings? Does the heart know what to do or is that
the brain’s job to tell you what to do? I may sound like a psychopath but in
pure honesty, if you think about things too much, your brain can and may
explode because of overthinking and that’s exactly what I’m afraid of. If we
had stopped thinking, would we even know why the sky is blue or why the earth
revolves around the sun and not the other way around? Can thinking too much be
a good thing or does it just make things more complicated? Speaking of
complications and contradictions, what if no religion we believe in really
exists? What if this life doesn’t exist? What if we are all programmed robots
who keep living this life over and over again without knowing anything about
ourselves? I guess the only way to find out is to live this so called life and
find out!
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I am a shadow of your false judgments
I began with a purpose
A motive
Driven by faith
Broken
By destiny
I became attached to
Unwanted reminisces
Distorted by
Painful contradictions
Of what I ever wanted
I was belonging to the wrong societal
Universe
I wasn’t suppose to be there
I wasn’t supposed to be “her”
Realized
That wasn’t my world
That wasn’t my home
Here in his heart
That’s where I belonged
That’s where I’m safe
That’s where I’m strong
Today
I remember who I was
Who I pretended to be
Today I’m just me
A woman
With
A three party
Family
With an angel
And a miracle
Alan
The whistling wind
That glides its way
Into my lungs and
Through my veins
He’s tied to a Chicana
By simultaneously beating hearts
He knows her
The way she knows
Him
I’m
Eighteen
The basic
Everything else
The mystery
Can only be discovered
Not told
Or written
Observe
Talk
Assume
But never
Underestimate
Understand
The I am question
As no answer
But has potential
http://youtu.be/LBTXNPZPfbE
http://i301.photobucket.com/albums/nn42/mexbella21/22.jpg
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