Monday, January 4, 2010
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Warning
How many times have you seen your older brother or sister stay up to finish a homework assignment when they could have been in bed sleeping or enjoying a favorite show on television? Well we see them almost every day. Have you ever thought that when they were you age they did the some of the same things we do now, and once we get to their age we will probably be the same way. Have you ever though about how miserable our lives are going to be once we get to their age.
Our parents make us read and write before we even start school. We spent most of our childhood days inside a miniature classroom studying vocabulary and spelling when we could be out in the sun playing, and enjoying our lives, while we have the time. You know very well that once you get to high school you wont have much of a life, so what’s the point in working so hard now, and ruining your lives before you get there. Collages aren’t going to look at your grades from elementary school or even middle school, so why are you trying to destroy you lives at such a young age. Your grades don’t count until you are in high school.
You are all in danger of destroying your lives, by listening to people who no longer have the chance of doing whatever they want, and not have to worry about it the next day. You have got your whole lives to worry about studying and doing homework, but you don’t have much time for running around, playing in the mud, and most importantly taking a nap in the middle of the day.
So enjoy your lives while you can because you are not going to be any different form your older siblings. They weren’t given the freedom to enjoy their childhood, and now they are living miserably, and if you don’t find a way to get the freedom to live your lives freely you will end up the same way. By the time you are in high school your lives would have completely crashed, and there would be nothing you could do about it.
Our parents make us read and write before we even start school. We spent most of our childhood days inside a miniature classroom studying vocabulary and spelling when we could be out in the sun playing, and enjoying our lives, while we have the time. You know very well that once you get to high school you wont have much of a life, so what’s the point in working so hard now, and ruining your lives before you get there. Collages aren’t going to look at your grades from elementary school or even middle school, so why are you trying to destroy you lives at such a young age. Your grades don’t count until you are in high school.
You are all in danger of destroying your lives, by listening to people who no longer have the chance of doing whatever they want, and not have to worry about it the next day. You have got your whole lives to worry about studying and doing homework, but you don’t have much time for running around, playing in the mud, and most importantly taking a nap in the middle of the day.
So enjoy your lives while you can because you are not going to be any different form your older siblings. They weren’t given the freedom to enjoy their childhood, and now they are living miserably, and if you don’t find a way to get the freedom to live your lives freely you will end up the same way. By the time you are in high school your lives would have completely crashed, and there would be nothing you could do about it.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Pizza
This picture was taken right after my first soccer game. My grandpa grandma and me out to eat. It was also the first time in my entire life, that I had tasted pizza. As soon as I took the first bite, of that delicious cheese pizza, I felt like I was floating in the air. My mouth becomes very watery. I heard my grandparents arguing about the food, but I could have cared less. I was only nine years old and I had eaten five slices of a large pizza, the first time I had tried it.
When I went home; I felt sick. I threw up and was in bed for two days, but that didn’t stop me from, thinking about pizza.
After that day, I would go with my grandpa to that same restaurant, every Friday. I tried pepperoni pizza, sausage pizza, mushroom pizza, and even mushroom-pineapple pizza, but none of them tasted as good as the cheese pizza. By the time I was twelve years old, I was five feet tall, and weighted nearly two hundred pounds. Pizza no longer made my mouth watery, or made me sick because I had ate too much. It had become an addiction. It tasted like I was chewing on paper; but I couldn’t stop it, because when I did, I would not be able to go to sleep. I felt empty from the inside.
I was made fun of at school, because of my weight. Still pizza was the most important thing in my life. Then, one Friday before grandpa and I went to get pizza; my mom came back to see me. She said she had lung cancer, and that she wanted to spend the last days of her life with me.
I staid home with her. The first time in three years, I had missed pizza on a Friday. At night I couldn’t go to sleep. I felt depressed, and lonely. I went out into the living room, and saw my mom smoking. Without her noticing I picked up her cigarette and began to smoke. I felt dizzy and began to cough. I felt nauseous. It was a horrible feeling, but it was the only thing that put me to sleep that night. When I woke up in the morning, I had an awful headache. And before I knew it I was smoking a pack of cigarettes each day. I liked it because it was better than eating pizza every Friday, and I began to lose weight.
Soon after my mother died, but still I didn’t stop smoking like I hadn’t stopped eating pizza. Now I’m the one with lung cancer.
When I went home; I felt sick. I threw up and was in bed for two days, but that didn’t stop me from, thinking about pizza.
After that day, I would go with my grandpa to that same restaurant, every Friday. I tried pepperoni pizza, sausage pizza, mushroom pizza, and even mushroom-pineapple pizza, but none of them tasted as good as the cheese pizza. By the time I was twelve years old, I was five feet tall, and weighted nearly two hundred pounds. Pizza no longer made my mouth watery, or made me sick because I had ate too much. It had become an addiction. It tasted like I was chewing on paper; but I couldn’t stop it, because when I did, I would not be able to go to sleep. I felt empty from the inside.
I was made fun of at school, because of my weight. Still pizza was the most important thing in my life. Then, one Friday before grandpa and I went to get pizza; my mom came back to see me. She said she had lung cancer, and that she wanted to spend the last days of her life with me.
I staid home with her. The first time in three years, I had missed pizza on a Friday. At night I couldn’t go to sleep. I felt depressed, and lonely. I went out into the living room, and saw my mom smoking. Without her noticing I picked up her cigarette and began to smoke. I felt dizzy and began to cough. I felt nauseous. It was a horrible feeling, but it was the only thing that put me to sleep that night. When I woke up in the morning, I had an awful headache. And before I knew it I was smoking a pack of cigarettes each day. I liked it because it was better than eating pizza every Friday, and I began to lose weight.
Soon after my mother died, but still I didn’t stop smoking like I hadn’t stopped eating pizza. Now I’m the one with lung cancer.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The Perfect Wedding Draft 3
There she was the most perfectly shaped body ever created, and she was to suppose to buy me. As she looked through the dress, I pictured her wearing me, walking down the aisle, looking like an angel. However, wait, out of the shadows the unshapeliest figure, looking at me. Every monstrous step she took, the floor shook beneath me. It was as if someone had unleashed Godzilla on to the unsuspected wedding shop, and I was her victim. If I had a mouth, I would have screamed.
I could not take my eyes of off that gorgeous, most attractive and charming dress. It was like, that dress was made just for me. I imagined how I would look on my wedding day, wearing it. However, for some reason I had the feeling the dress, hated me.
She squeezed herself though me, not noticing that the she had ripped my seaming. The shapely women, that dreamed to be worn by, looked at me as if I was her lost love forced into the arms of fat, ghastly, wicked women.
The dress was a bit tight for me, but I was still going to buy it because it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I saw another woman, staring at my beautiful dress. I bet she was jealous of how pretty I looked.
On the day of the wedding, after screaming at her brides maids for leaving her place cards at the hotel, she once more squeezed her humongous body into me. I begged God to free my soul from God’s sense of humor turned bad. There I was the most handsome, attractive, and charming wedding dress, made by one of the best designer in the world, and now worn by an enormous, lazy, rounded, stubborn, rich women.
I was in a horrible mood on my wedding day. My parents had just informed me that they were not going to come to my wedding because one of their friends was sick and they decided to go and see him, instead of going to their daughter's wedding. The dress seemed even tighter on that day. Even after I had been on a very strict diet for three weeks.
As she walked down the church aisle, the sound of my beautiful silk ripping filled the air. She turned red and ran to the nearest restroom. For a couple of minutes, she stood their crying. Then as if it was my fault that she was fat, and it was my fault that I did not inform her that I was about to rip. She got a pair of scissors and rips me into even smaller pieces, than flushed me down the toilet. Unfortunately, for both of us, the toilet was out of order, and it threw me out like a soccer ball and on her once more.
I do not know why I took all my anger out on that poor dress, but it had caused me the most embarrassing day of my life.
I could not take my eyes of off that gorgeous, most attractive and charming dress. It was like, that dress was made just for me. I imagined how I would look on my wedding day, wearing it. However, for some reason I had the feeling the dress, hated me.
She squeezed herself though me, not noticing that the she had ripped my seaming. The shapely women, that dreamed to be worn by, looked at me as if I was her lost love forced into the arms of fat, ghastly, wicked women.
The dress was a bit tight for me, but I was still going to buy it because it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I saw another woman, staring at my beautiful dress. I bet she was jealous of how pretty I looked.
On the day of the wedding, after screaming at her brides maids for leaving her place cards at the hotel, she once more squeezed her humongous body into me. I begged God to free my soul from God’s sense of humor turned bad. There I was the most handsome, attractive, and charming wedding dress, made by one of the best designer in the world, and now worn by an enormous, lazy, rounded, stubborn, rich women.
I was in a horrible mood on my wedding day. My parents had just informed me that they were not going to come to my wedding because one of their friends was sick and they decided to go and see him, instead of going to their daughter's wedding. The dress seemed even tighter on that day. Even after I had been on a very strict diet for three weeks.
As she walked down the church aisle, the sound of my beautiful silk ripping filled the air. She turned red and ran to the nearest restroom. For a couple of minutes, she stood their crying. Then as if it was my fault that she was fat, and it was my fault that I did not inform her that I was about to rip. She got a pair of scissors and rips me into even smaller pieces, than flushed me down the toilet. Unfortunately, for both of us, the toilet was out of order, and it threw me out like a soccer ball and on her once more.
I do not know why I took all my anger out on that poor dress, but it had caused me the most embarrassing day of my life.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
The Perfect Wedding Draft 2
There she was the most perfectly shaped body ever created, and she was to suppose to buy me. As she looked through the dress, I pictured her wearing me, walking down the aisle, looking like an angel. However, wait, out of the shadows the unshapeliest figure, looking at me. Every monstrous step she took, the floor shook beneath me. It was as if someone had unleashed Godzilla on to the unsuspected wedding shop, and I was her victim. If I had a mouth, I would have screamed.
I could not take my eyes of off that gorgeous, most attractive and charming dress. It was like, that dress was made just for me. I imagined how I would look on my wedding day, wearing it. But for some reason I had the feeling the dress, hated me.
She squeezed herself though me, not noticing that the she had ripped my seaming. The shapely women, that dreamed to be worn by, looked at me as if I was her lost love forced into the arms of fat, ghastly, wicked women.
I saw another women, staring at my beautiful dress. I bet she was jealous of how pretty I looked.
On the day of the wedding, after screaming at her brides maids for leaving her place cards at the hotel, she once more squeezed her humongous body into me. I begged God to free my soul from God’s sense of humor turned bad. There I was the most handsome, attractive, and charming wedding dress, made by one of the best designer in the world, and now worn by an enormous, lazy, rounded, stubborn, rich women.
I was in a horrible mood on my wedding day. My parents had just informed me that they were not going to come to my wedding. They were not going to be there at their only daughter's wedding. The dress seemed even tighter on that day. Even after I had been on a very strict diet for three weeks.
As she walked down the church aisle, the sound of my beautiful silk ripping filled the air. She turned red and ran to the nearest restroom. For a couple of minutes, she stood their crying. Then as if it was my fault that she was fat, and it was my fault that I did not inform her that I was about to rip. She got a pair of scissors and rips me into even smaller pieces, than flushed me down the toilet. Unfortunately, for both of us, the toilet was out of order, and it threw me out like a soccer ball and on her once more.
I do not know why I took all my anger out on that poor dress, but it had caused me the most embarrassing day of my life.
I could not take my eyes of off that gorgeous, most attractive and charming dress. It was like, that dress was made just for me. I imagined how I would look on my wedding day, wearing it. But for some reason I had the feeling the dress, hated me.
She squeezed herself though me, not noticing that the she had ripped my seaming. The shapely women, that dreamed to be worn by, looked at me as if I was her lost love forced into the arms of fat, ghastly, wicked women.
I saw another women, staring at my beautiful dress. I bet she was jealous of how pretty I looked.
On the day of the wedding, after screaming at her brides maids for leaving her place cards at the hotel, she once more squeezed her humongous body into me. I begged God to free my soul from God’s sense of humor turned bad. There I was the most handsome, attractive, and charming wedding dress, made by one of the best designer in the world, and now worn by an enormous, lazy, rounded, stubborn, rich women.
I was in a horrible mood on my wedding day. My parents had just informed me that they were not going to come to my wedding. They were not going to be there at their only daughter's wedding. The dress seemed even tighter on that day. Even after I had been on a very strict diet for three weeks.
As she walked down the church aisle, the sound of my beautiful silk ripping filled the air. She turned red and ran to the nearest restroom. For a couple of minutes, she stood their crying. Then as if it was my fault that she was fat, and it was my fault that I did not inform her that I was about to rip. She got a pair of scissors and rips me into even smaller pieces, than flushed me down the toilet. Unfortunately, for both of us, the toilet was out of order, and it threw me out like a soccer ball and on her once more.
I do not know why I took all my anger out on that poor dress, but it had caused me the most embarrassing day of my life.
Monday, February 16, 2009
The Perfect Wedding
There she was the most perfectly shaped body ever created, and she was to suppose to buy me. As she looked through the dress, I pictured her wearing me, walking down the aisle, looking like an angel. But wait, out of the shadows the unshapeliest figure, looking at me. Every monstrous step she took, the floor shook beneath me. It was as if someone had unleashed Godzilla on to the unsuspected wedding shop, and I was her victim. If I had a mouth, I would have screamed. She squeezed herself though me, not noticing that the she had ripped my seaming. The shapely women, that dreamed to be worn by, looked at me as if I was her lost love forced into the arms of fat, ghastly, wicked women.
On the day of the wedding, after screaming at he brides maids for leaving her place cards at the hotel, she once more squeezed her humongous body into me. I begged God to free my soul from God’s sense of humor turned bad. There I was the most handsome, attractive, and charming wedding dress. Made by one of the best designer in the world, and now worn by enormous, lazy, and rounded, stubborn, rich women.
As she walked down the church aisle, the sound of my beautiful silk ripping filled the air. She turned red and ran to the nearest restroom. For a couple of minutes, she stood their crying. Then as if it was my fault that she was fat, and it was my fault that I did not inform her that I was about to rip. She got a pair of scissors and rips me into even smaller pieces, than flushed me down the toilet. Unfortunately, for both of us, the toilet was out of order, and it threw me out like a soccer ball and on her once more.
On the day of the wedding, after screaming at he brides maids for leaving her place cards at the hotel, she once more squeezed her humongous body into me. I begged God to free my soul from God’s sense of humor turned bad. There I was the most handsome, attractive, and charming wedding dress. Made by one of the best designer in the world, and now worn by enormous, lazy, and rounded, stubborn, rich women.
As she walked down the church aisle, the sound of my beautiful silk ripping filled the air. She turned red and ran to the nearest restroom. For a couple of minutes, she stood their crying. Then as if it was my fault that she was fat, and it was my fault that I did not inform her that I was about to rip. She got a pair of scissors and rips me into even smaller pieces, than flushed me down the toilet. Unfortunately, for both of us, the toilet was out of order, and it threw me out like a soccer ball and on her once more.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Mr. President: Writting Assing. 4. Draft 3
Mr. President
I would like to congratulate you on becoming the first African American president of the United States. As the president of the United States, you will have many responsibilities, such as the economy, healthcare, Iraq, the war on "Terror," education and Gay rights; but the question is how you will fulfill your responsibilities.
In the past, we have spent a lot of money on war, which had affected our economy greatly. An enormous number of jobs have been lost, because big business such as Circuit city has run out of business. I understand that the war on "Terror" is one of the biggest issues in the whole world, but the way we have handled it in the past is not very effective. The mistake we have made is that, we have blamed the wrong people for our problems.
I believe that if we figure out a way, to deal with terrorism, the rest of the problems will be solved within a short time. We would not have to spend so much money overseas, fighting for a worthless cause. That money could be spent on healthcare or education. We would not have to pay dictators in the Middle East and South Asia to keep control in a certain areas for us. We probably would not be so hated if we stopped controlling other people. Yet getting rid of terrorism is not so easy.
When the Russians invaded Afghanistan; we paid the Taliban to fight the Russians and they did so willingly, but after the war we just left them there without caring about the harm, they could causes for us, later. During the war, we gave them all, the weapons they needed to fight, but after the war, we did not give them anything to feed their families with. Now they do not care if they die or not as long as they kill a couple of people with them. Dropping bombs on these people would not stop them. We need to figure out a way to stop them without violence, instead of doing the same thing they are doing.
By killing the Taliban, we also kill many innocent people. We do not look any different form the Taliban if we kill people, and justify it as, "we are just defending our nation." According to Geo News, a Pakistani news channel; for every one member of the Taliban that is killed, three innocent people are killed with him. By doing this, we are not stopping terrorism but promoting it. The families of those innocent people do not blame the Taliban for three deaths, but the Americans.
If this problem were not solved quickly, we would end up in a worse situation. We might have another incident such as the one on 9/11. We could get into more war; which could possibly start World War III if enough countries get involved. We could end up in another great depression because of the amount of money we are losing in war. Mr. Obama, you are elected because you promised this nation "change." I hope that change means, change in polices, not just a change in the executive branch.
Sincerely,
Aakash Arbab
I would like to congratulate you on becoming the first African American president of the United States. As the president of the United States, you will have many responsibilities, such as the economy, healthcare, Iraq, the war on "Terror," education and Gay rights; but the question is how you will fulfill your responsibilities.
In the past, we have spent a lot of money on war, which had affected our economy greatly. An enormous number of jobs have been lost, because big business such as Circuit city has run out of business. I understand that the war on "Terror" is one of the biggest issues in the whole world, but the way we have handled it in the past is not very effective. The mistake we have made is that, we have blamed the wrong people for our problems.
I believe that if we figure out a way, to deal with terrorism, the rest of the problems will be solved within a short time. We would not have to spend so much money overseas, fighting for a worthless cause. That money could be spent on healthcare or education. We would not have to pay dictators in the Middle East and South Asia to keep control in a certain areas for us. We probably would not be so hated if we stopped controlling other people. Yet getting rid of terrorism is not so easy.
When the Russians invaded Afghanistan; we paid the Taliban to fight the Russians and they did so willingly, but after the war we just left them there without caring about the harm, they could causes for us, later. During the war, we gave them all, the weapons they needed to fight, but after the war, we did not give them anything to feed their families with. Now they do not care if they die or not as long as they kill a couple of people with them. Dropping bombs on these people would not stop them. We need to figure out a way to stop them without violence, instead of doing the same thing they are doing.
By killing the Taliban, we also kill many innocent people. We do not look any different form the Taliban if we kill people, and justify it as, "we are just defending our nation." According to Geo News, a Pakistani news channel; for every one member of the Taliban that is killed, three innocent people are killed with him. By doing this, we are not stopping terrorism but promoting it. The families of those innocent people do not blame the Taliban for three deaths, but the Americans.
If this problem were not solved quickly, we would end up in a worse situation. We might have another incident such as the one on 9/11. We could get into more war; which could possibly start World War III if enough countries get involved. We could end up in another great depression because of the amount of money we are losing in war. Mr. Obama, you are elected because you promised this nation "change." I hope that change means, change in polices, not just a change in the executive branch.
Sincerely,
Aakash Arbab
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