I remember the excitement among my eight cousins and me as we all reached out to stroke the new puppy that peaked out from the box. I was four years old. At the time, I was unaware that this tiny black puppy-my dog, Sparky-would transform into a humungous German shepherd. Almost immediately after we got him, Sparky grew larger than me! He suddenly became so frightening. Every time I was with him he would chase me around the yard and jump on me, like a kid who still has not realized their parents can no longer carry them. When strangers passed by, my dog would go into a frenzy, delivering his deep, wild barks and gritting his sharp set of c
remember, we called this city a town
because we were meant for bigger things
it took us nothing to at last get out
but coming back took us everything
because the old back road is all bent out
we never really looked back enough
to recognize and confess to ourselves
that though this memorys gone through much
I can still see Mom shut the windows down
when the drought was quelled by heavy rain
and the house still is just how it had smelled
when secondhand cars took us away
Ive been meaning to revisit this place
but I just cant accept what I felt
when we rode toward this citys northern frame
I came home but i
Mysterious, sexy, unattainable, and unreal. These aspects form the characters designed to steal the hearts of young girls. These are characters that girls eek about and use as examples to put down their male contemporaries, because the boys they know can never, ever achieve this level of desirability. More of my peers are becoming interested in with an eerily familiar concept of an unbelievably appealing man as the love interest. While these girls dream about hot guys, I prefer characters that focus less on surface traits and more on depth. Thus enters the Byronic hero.
Byronic heroes are idealized but flawed male cha
With Clarity from Black and White
Theres a portrait of a man in my schools library. The dates underneath it made him out to be no more than twenty-three; but because he was a soldier, I swear he looked older. It was a curious thing to have his likeness present in my school. For one, this was a black and white portrait hanging among vivid posters. Also, he was Japanese. Its hard to comprehend why the portrait of this man, Private First Class Sadao S. Munemori, gone since 1945, remains in Lincoln High School, a school in which over 80% of the students are Hispanic.
My image of Mr. Munemori is one that is black and white, a