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Britty Johnson’sJournal #3Section One: Quantitative “Showing not Telling” CalisthenicsHannah’s cellphone keeps ringing.As her inexpensive flip phone sat in the console of her 2007 Nissan Sentra, eighteen year old Hannah’s priorities were elsewhere. The cheap, digital clock read 12:15 am and although she had already surpassed her curfew, Hannah didn’t plan on heading home any time soon. She sat on the full sized motel bed with an erotic smile, although the mattress was filled will lumps and the tasteless, floral comforter made her legs itch. Her thin, bronze legs were crossed. She smoothed out her floral mini skirt that she just purchased especially for the night. Her extra small tank top exposed the perfect amount of cleavage to get the job done. The room, reeking of cigarettes and mildew resembled something from a 1970’s home and décor catalog. She sat patiently waiting for her next client to arrive.Lauren’s hair whipped through the wind.The smell of the sea cavorted passed her nose as she pedaled her bike furiously. Her yellow ten speed bicycle whipped down the strip alongside Virginia Beach. She could feel tiny specks of sand on her thin tanned thighs. Catching bits and pieces of the conversations that simmered on the patios of the beach side food huts, Lauren smiled and looked up into the sun. The sun smiled back. Lance is so forgetful.It’s as if his memory box has wandered off and left his mind bare. He ran through his house panicking, in fear of missing the school bus again. His new puppy Ava was biting playfully at his feet. As he rushed to the bus stop his untied shoe laces patted against the tiled kitchen floor. With his open book bag on his back, Lance rushed out of the door without making sure the door was closed completely. The tiny, puppy Ava curiously sniffed around the open door that forgetful Lance left open. My taste buds are burning away. I have been craving this coffee all morning. Nothing soothes my body better than a Caramel Macchiato from Starbucks. I can’t help but force myself to guzzle the scorching liquid. The fog disabled Eva’s vision.The volume of her iPod was on full blast as she continued to finish her nightly jog. Her bright pink and tan Nikes patted against the sidewalk loudly, as she swatted through the fog in hopes of bettering her vision. The streetlights shined bright and Eva noticed a shadow jogging slowly behind her. She closed her eyes and re-opened them as if she was just hallucinating, but the figure was still there. Reaching in her North Face jacket to lower the volume of her iPod, Eva picked up her pace in hopes of getting away from the figure. She could hear her heart beating as if her iPod had magically turned into a stethoscope. “RENNS/Ps&Qs” CalisthenicsThe faint smell of hot wings filled the house. Football gurus placing bets and sporting jerseys in support of their favorite team. Loud screams of both excitement and anger constantly bouncing off of the walls. Three half eaten bags of Lays potato chips were scattered across the wooden table and popcorn kernels were wedged in between the couch cushions as if someone hid them there to save for later. Mouths full of saucy chicken shouted profane words and harsh names at the television as if it was some form of technological punishment. Speculating eyes remained glued to the television for two straight hours. Hundreds of excited, thrill seeking teenagers ran through Six Flags on Friday, including Sidney and his 4 best friends. Summer is finally here! Long lines of impatient daredevils formed next to each rollercoaster. Groups of hyper preteens walked around in denim shorts and tightly tied sneakers. Money being exchanged for small cups of Dippin Dots ice cream, extra cheesy nachos sprinkled with jalapeno peppers, and powdery funnel cakes. Cameras constantly snapping pictures as keepsakes and laughs being shared. As acrophobia fears were being overcame, shrills of both excitement and fear rang from the sky as fast coasters hit their peak and looped in circles. At 3 am on Wednesday night, Britty and her two roommates, Katie and Charisse sat in the living room full of energy after they finished watching their fourth movie for the night. The faint smell of pepperoni lingered on their tongues and 2 large boxes of Dominos pizza sat on the counter in the kitchen. The three sleepless girls believed that every night could be movie night regardless of what was taking place the next day. Despite the fact that each girl had class later that morning, they popped another movie in the DVD player and grabbed a few snacks from the cabinet and sodas from the fridge to keep them energized. The three night owls sat in the living room for another two hours garbed in their West Georgia t-shirts and comfortable cotton pajama shorts. Britty and her best friend Rae couldn’t wait to go shopping on Saturday. They were both professional frugal shoppers and were blessed with the ability to scope out great deals and discounts. They woke up early in hopes of being able to go to all of their favorite stores. Before hitting the stores, the two girls went to the theatre to catch a matinée movie. The sequel to The Hunger Games just hit the theatre and the girls couldn’t resist seeing it for only $5.00. When the movie was over, Britty and Rae conversed about the movie as they headed to grab a couple of fruit smoothies. After sipping the cold, fruity treats the girls hopped in their car with watermelon red tongues and their windows rolled down as they headed to a few of their favorite thrift stores. After a day full of trying on clothes and making purchases the girls headed back to their apartment with a decent amount of cash still tucked away in their wallets. The two frugal fashionistas were able to get over one hundred and fifty dollars’ worth of clothes for only thirty dollars. The determined and dedicated students of the Film Society stood behind the Canon DSLR camera for five consecutive hours in hopes of catching great scenes for their upcoming film. The movie buffs were super excited to be making their first short film. Each student held a significant skill that was useful in piecing the film together. The director stood tall and proud, maintaining order and dishing out suggestions. Cinematographers stood together, thinking of cool shots and angles to include in the film. Actors and actresses paced back and forth reciting their lines in hopes of becoming the character that they were told to portray. Music ideas popped in the heads of each member of the scoring team. Each writer stood with a copy of the film script in their hand, watching their film come to life. My wildest dreams are coming true. “Senses other than sight” CalisthenicsI could feel my eyes turning bloodshot red. It felt as if someone set them on fire. I couldn’t help but rub them helplessly, as I walked across the campus. Yellow jackets darted past me and bumblebees rested on beautifully blossomed bloomers. A powdery, yellow substance coated the windshields of all of the cars in the faculty only parking lot. Hello Spring. A bright streak of lightening lit up the creepy house. Marissa begged her friend Sam to turn around. It was the 31st of October and Sam dared Marissa to go into the old, creepy abandoned home that stood tall in the back of their neighborhood. Marissa could feel the short, thin hairs on her arms rising as she quaked with fear. “You can’t turn down a dare, Marissa!” Sam smirked, as she walked behind Marissa into the house. The door creaked loudly as Marissa pushed it open. The moment she peaked her face in the gloomy dwelling, a rancid odor forcefully hit her nostrils and she moaned with disgust. The house was filled with piercing cold air as if it was filled with hundreds of ghosts waiting to confront Marissa as she entered their territory. “I killed it!” Bethany’s father called out as she stood in the hallway quaking with fear in her short blue and white striped pajama shorts. “Are you sure?!” She cried back. Bethany absolutely despised cockroaches. The way they scattered quickly across a surface and the sleekness of their dark brown bodies caused chills to run down her spine. She noticed one dancing across her dresser as she got ready for bed on Thursday night. Her father insured her that he had killed the creature and encouraged her to go to bed. Bethany laid in her bed; the coldness of her sheets put her at ease. She quickly began to scratch her bare arm with fear because she thought she felt something crawling on her. Bethany laid in bed for the next 2 hours, wide awaked and constantly hallucinating. For a split second she thought she heard something crawling across her floor. She sighed a loud sigh as she thought about the test that she had first thing Friday morning. She had to get some sleep. She quickly shut down her supersonic ears, controlled her hallucinations, and closed her eyes. Ryan popped open a can of orange Fanta in the quiet library. The loud clack got the attention of a few girls sitting near him. The table they were sitting at was covered in empty Starbucks coffee cups, Chemistry textbooks, and constantly buzzing iPhones. He sipped the soda loud and quick, mesmerized by the strong, burning sensation it brought about his throat. He glanced at the girls as they murmured and looked at him with disgust. Yolanda sat in her room alone on Saturday night. Her mom refused to let her go to Justin Bradley’s annual pool party that was about to start in less than thirty minutes. She didn’t think it was fair that her mom was throwing a party of her own downstairs in their basement, with all of her single, horny female friends from work. She had also invited a few guys over that she met at the bar last week. Yolanda sat on her twin-sized bed and turned a bright red as she began to grow more and more frustrated. The walls of her tiny bedroom shook as the loud music from the basement boomed from the speakers. She heard loud, drunken laughs, and glass bottles clinking together. She rolled her eyes as she grew even more annoyed.“Passive to Active Voice” CalisthenicsPassive: The house was destroyed by the fire.Active: The fire destroyed the house. Passive: The old, blue truck was repaired by the mechanic.Active: The mechanic repaired the old, blue truck. Passive: The ball was thrown out of bounds by Taylor Cochran.Active: Taylor Cochran threw the ball out of bounds.Passive: The chicken Alfredo was made by Katie.Active: Katie made the chicken Alfredo.Passive: The film script was written by Britty.Active: Britty wrote the film script. “Cliché to non-cliché” Calisthenics(Bad to the Bone)Cierra Kingsley strutted down the narrow hallway of Lovesboro High School. Her short dark brown bob was cut perfectly to even up with her chiseled jaw. Her astonishing green eyes looked like almond shaped emeralds. Her soft lips always had a fine layer of red lipstick smeared across them as if their natural color was so. Some girls admire her for being so bold and daring, others despise her. Every guy wants to be her boyfriend. They say she’s risqué and does whatever she wants and that excites them. She wears the same black leather jacket every day. It’s covered with studs and spikes that are shiny and clear like mirrors. When she walks down the hallway, students and even teachers stop and stare. (Busy as a Bee)Not even a minute can pass without Timothy James being on his feet. He’s constantly on the go. He works ten hours a day at Marcos Pizza and when he isn’t delivering he’s trapped under piles of homework. His fingers are constantly cramped from writing British Literature papers, his mind is filled with chemical equations, and he always smells like marinara sauce. Timothy doesn’t have time to do the things that he enjoys the most like making music and working on sketches. He is aching for a break. (Cat got your Tongue)Jolie Adams loved spreading rumors. It seems as if she has nothing better to do with her time. She comes up with ridiculous rumors about not only the students of Lovesboro High School but the teachers as well. Last year, she spreaded a rumor saying that the drama students were a part of a secret cult. Last Wednesday she told everyone that Mr. Harris, a World History teacher is the leader of a human trafficking business. On Thursday she told the school that my best friend Crystal had herpes. Jolie only spreads rumors about other people to make herself feel better. During my lunch hour on Thursday I walked over to Jolie’s table. She was surrounded by a group of pathetic girls that sucked up to her and laughed at her immature rumors. They were her motivators. Without hesitation, I told Jolie Adams that she needed to grow up and stop spreading rumors. I thought we all left our immature ways in middle school and this is definitely high school. I told her that she should spend less time making up rumors about other people’s lives and start putting forth an effort to make hers useful. She stared at me with shock and didn’t utter another rumor for the remainder of the year. (Life’s a Bitch)Well it’s 2:30 in the afternoon and I’m out of a job. On top of that great news I just got a flat tire and I’m stranded on the side of the highway for the next forty five minutes as I wait for AAA to arrive. Now my girlfriend is calling me, riding my back about not taking out the trash this morning. Honestly, why do I even bother?(See eye to eye)I am no longer a simple minded child. I am a man that has experienced the hard truths of the world. I have gained a new understanding of fate and destiny, yet my father can only see me as the son of a lawyer who must take similar paths in life. I prefer to make my own path and live by my independent decisions. My father is afraid that I’ll make mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. I rather face and overcome them then to duck and dodge. Hardships build character. Living builds character. And this is my life. “Improvs” CalisthenicsStarter: “Dreams” by Edgar Allen Poe“Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!”The days were full of mirth and the nights were full of adventure. Worries came less often and my tear ducts were at rest. My heart was content and my limbs were full of life. I can still see the way the sun shined if I close my eyes. The way the wind breezed and the way the trees swayed. I wish I could rewind time, so I can spend the days gossiping with the birds and the nights dancing under the moon. Who would have known it would be over so soon?Starter: “Let America be America Again” by Langston Hughes “Let America be America again” We’ve let our creations destroy us. Mesmerized eyes stick to flat television screens as if they were coated with Elmer’s. Stupidity tip toes its way into our heads but we remain clueless. Without our cellphones we’d be unbalanced, not knowing which way was up. Chivalry is almost dead and the youth is losing their youth. We’ve put an axe to our morals and tied our common sense to a balloon. It’s floating away and no one’s tall enough to reach it. Starter: “Fireflies in the Garden” by Robert Frost “Here come real stars to fill the upper skies” Look at them glimmer as they light up the night. Eyes widen when they shoot across the sky. The other stars are just make-believe. They have no sole purpose. The sky is infinite but there’s only room for stars that sparkle. Luminosity rules the world. Starter: “The Bonfire” by Robert Frost“OH, let’s go up the hill and scare ourselves”We can dance at its peak until our feet go numb. I’ll treat your heart like the delicate flower that it is. Let’s both let our guards down and fall completely in love. There’s no need to dodge our emotions because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. Starter: “Two Look at Two” by Robert Frost“Love and forgetting might have carried them A little further up the mountain side.” Hefty grudges pressed on their backs like back packs. Memories of infidelity wrapped around their necks, hindering their breaths. The mountain is jagged, the sun is searing, and our hands are becoming moist. We’re losing our grips, our minds, and any hope that we ever had. Poem RewriteIdle DazeFragmentary film scripts stacked high beside my bed like the Eifel TowerWish I had a plane ticket to FranceI submerge myself into my cloud-like day bedLethargic tendencies kicking like a growing fetus,Garbed in flannel pajamas, my limbs are snugI can see it nowDuring the day, I’d go for a bike ride down the endless, narrow, meandering streets of ParisFrench natives walk the sidewalks, the romantic language sliding off of their tonguesConversing on the patios of popular French cuisine restaurants,Laughing and sharing storiesBecause the city makes them feel aliveSweet whiffs from the bakery ballet pass my nose And I’m tempted to stop for a strawberry crêpeDuring the night, I would lie in Champ de Mars,Just below the pale moonlight, Sipping on a glass of Blanc de Blancsadmiring the bright city lights and luxurious night lifeBeautiful wealthy women, stretched tall and thin like runway modelsSporting Alexander McQueen dresses and Jimmy Choo heelsBeing chased by clean cut men that resemble the ones on GQ magazine pagesI would smile and inhale the airBecause the city makes me feel aliveThunder, roaring like a ravening lion anticipating feeding time,My trance is broken.I’m bounded to this bed, like I belong in an insane asylum.I can’t get upEven if I wanted toA few more reveries of walking the streets of France,and my eyes struggle to stay awakeI let them sleepJuggling ExampleThis is MeI often stand in front of my mirror staring at my reflectionMy dark brown almond shaped eyes stare backThis is meFive feet and two inches off of the floor,My deep brown skin glows as the sun shines through my windowThis is meMy big natural hair compliments my faceMuch like the petals of a sunflowerBlossoming in a gardenIn need of sunlight and waterShining bright and growing tallStems stretched like silly carnival clowns on stiltsParading through crowds of childrenWith tongues stained blue and red from cotton candyClowns juggling small striped balls and letting out goofy gigglesTheir printed Palazzo pants waving in the fall breezeEmotions painted on their facesBut why pretend to be happy?I stare at my face, free of make-up and my body, curvy like winding roads This is meI am happyNo need to paint on a smile or do silly tricksJust be who I am and wait to be pickedPicked like beautiful sunflowers fully bloomedPetals bold yellow resembling the sunFilled with brilliance and potential to go far Reaching for the sky in hopes of catching my dreamsReaching for the sky like little children in Ferris wheel gondolasGrinning from ear to ear Feeling infinite and unstoppableBecause I amMy head held high and lips pressed into a smileStaring at my reflectionMy dark brown almond shaped eyes stare backThis is meSection Two: Qualitative Statement of Purpose The golden morning sun is beaming like a laser through my sheer, burgundy curtainMy sleepy eyes instantly open. This is a new day, full of possibilities I sit up in my comfortable day bed and scratch the dark brown kinky locks that are scattered about my head, Thinking of ways to influence the worldI’m in the mood to change livesI get out of bed and stretch, my bones crackas I thank God for giving me another day to liveI think about the people that are just now waking up like meAnd the people who can no longerI grab my frayed denim shorts and my favorite patterned button upto clothe my bare brown bodyI head for the doorI’m in the mood to change livesMy mind ponders on more ways that I can influence the worldI think about the girls who drown Teen Vogue magazine pages with tearsThe ones that skip meals in hopes of fitting into a size two. The ones that spend hours in front of the mirrorPutting on Barbie-like faces, coating their lips with cheap gloss, and spritzing Bath and Body Works sprays on their bodiesPainting their nails will Sally Hansen brand polishFixating their bras on the tightest claspIn hopes of catching a few eyesI think about teenage girls with pregnant belliesAnd even the ones that are on track to having oneI’m in the mood to change livesAnd the boys who would do just about anything to fit inInhaling marijuana leaves and downing cups of Grey Goose to drown out their problemsHunting for promiscuous girls to feed their pleasuresSwimming in pools of disrespectbecause they’re too wrapped up in their own self-centered livesI’m in the mood to change livesThe unmotivated teenagers with their eyes super glued to televisions and computer screensScrolling through Tumblrs and tweeting every five secondsPosting videos on YouTube, in hopes of gaining a million viewsSurfing the web for porn, liking pictures on Facebook, and posting pictures on InstagramI’m in the mood to change livesI can’t forget the depressed teenagers that think death is the only way to make life betterSearching for sharp objects to ease their painThe ones that feel like no one is listeningLike they’re alone in the worldThe teenagers that attract to violence like refrigerator magnetsIn need of some type of controlIn need of attentionI’m in the mood to change lives.Reach out to those sinking in the crevicesof this twisted societyBe their light, their guide, their crutchCast their problems on a screenSo the world can see their struggles and hear their cry for helpShow them that they aren’t aloneBecause we’re all pawns on this complex game board we call lifeWith an optical lens and the notions in my headI can change livesFunny WorldIsn’t it funny how they think they have me all figured out?They don’t know meThey’ve assigned me a set of characteristics that don’t fit my being at allI’m not an animated character, my life can not be storyboarded I’m holding the pencilI’m in controlLike a piece of clay, I have the ability to be stretched and molded into anythingBut it’s my hands that’s doing the molding, not society’s They have deemed me to be this person that I cannot possibly becomeAttempting to force me into a timeworn, raggedy box full of hand-me-downs that don’t fit and false generalizations, carelessly stitched together, ripping at the seams But I can dress myself, thank youOh, this world reeks of bitter contradictionFirst, I was looked down upon for being different, my skin a darker toneNow I’m just like the others, with skin a darker toneWhat is it that they want?Their simple minds shifting back and forth like a dirty Tug-o-War ropeIs their goal to break me?Like I’m some cheap, plastic toy with no valueWell, that’s surely not going to happenMy pride and integrity are strong like the attraction of two atoms in a chemical bondAnd society is no chemist It’s like I’m playing the staring game, Peering in the horrifyingly odious eyes of societyLooking straight through me, as if my body is transparentAs if I have no personality, no goals, no futureJust this brown skin covering my bonesWe’re waiting to see who blinks firstI can hear the ticking clockMy eyes burning like forest wildfires Salty tears building up like tsunami ocean wavesHeart pumping with rage, But mind fully intact, because I must show them who I really am I must overcome they’re harsh words, sticking together like tiny grains of sandForming a dark, towering castle of animosity around my helpless bodyBut with one of kick of my tiny foot, I can destroy themWatching their words burst into the tiny specks they once were Freeing myself of confinement I can still hear the clock ticking slowlyAs this staring game continuesWaiting to see who blinks firstThey see my dark brown, almond shaped eyesBut they can’t read the story they tellThey see my brown skinBut they can’t see how those hateful judgments bounce right off of meAs if my skin is coated with some type of hate repellentAnd they’re little bugs attempting to take bites of my prideThis is all a gameAnd they actually think they’re winningBlowing their greasy dice, wishing for luck, hoping my integrity shatters to pieces so they can take the prizeLittle do they know, I’m several steps aheadsashaying through life at a pace that’s far too quick for them They trip over their feet, trying to keep up,Those dirty hands reaching out to grab meIt seems as if they have forgotten who’s in controlAlthough they seem to dominate, standing over me like a giantThey’re grisly shadowed casted on the groundBut I am tall And indestructible, as if my body is shielded with gorilla glassGood luck, worldI sit back with my feet propped up, watching their sweaty bodies attempt to tackle melike this is some sort of sports gameI laughIsn’t it funny how they think they’ve got me all figured out? ................
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