Usual Rules blog post

Wendy and Josh haven’t really figured out that their mom/wife is dead yet. They’re still holding on to the memory of her. When someone said “She was” they’ll correct them and say “She is”. They aren’t really ready to accept it yet. From the moment that the towers fell and they realized that she was missing, Josh didn’t sleep for nearly three days because he was out looking for her at hospitals and putting up fliers.

Descriptive Essay

Mike Reynolds
Maroon 4

My Nee- Nee

It’s the one thing in this world that will never change. I’ve had it since I was born and it’s the only thing that has always been there for me no matter what. It never judges me, or changes its view of me. My grandmother made it for me when I was born and I was an infant on it. I must call it nee-nee because I probably couldn’t say Mimi. It’s been to hell and back with me and everywhere in between.

A grayish white rectangle that is tattered and torn and is worn thin from years of love. No bigger than a beach towel, yet big enough for my imagination to put me under a tent when I’m actually only covering my head. A simple design, rudimentary enough to have been made along with millions of others exactly like it. But this one is special. It’s mine. It has a flat woven design that’s surrounded by a thick canvas like border that’s perfect for running through my fingers. Made by hand and strung with love, it was one of a kind and all mine.

My favorite thing to do with my nee-nee is to run it between my fingers. I have no idea why that is so soothing for me but that has always been the one thing that I always loved to do with it. It’s such a meaningless thing that has most likely been that single most effective way for me to calm down for the past sixteen years.

Putting aside it being my go to object, I’ve also had many occasions where I’ve been with my Nee-Nee and I’ve done memorable things. It hasn’t necessarily been that reason for these memories but it was there to see me grow up and change into a man. Having three sisters it was always a way to get to me when I was little. When I was about ten years old, I was fighting with my sister, she took my Nee-Nee and I was on the other end. A tug-of-war ensued and it tore right through the middle. That hole was there for about another two or three years until I sent it to it’s creator to be mended. This was not the first time my life long friend had been damaged. He was almost beyond repair and I very well could have no longer had him to have. When he was last sent back to my Mimi, she had to trim it down and make a smaller square out of what was left of the useable material.

Usual Rules blog post

Wendy has a very deep and creative nature. she's got many tings that she does that are very unorthodox and not very normal.
She and a best friend created a secret language and they tied their desks together once. she and her friend came up with a game to play on the subway to school everyday. she's a very off the wall kind of thinker

Five senses poem: Feel

Feel

There is a thing,
Something out in front of me.
When I touch it,
It pulses up my arm.
I feel it move through my body.
The texture rebounds off my fingers.
Bouncing them as I move across its surface.
What they are conveys to me
I now know just what this is.

A random poem titled: Welcome

Welcome

Welcome to my world
A universe of feelings
A solar system of emotion
All that I am is all over.
Everything that is within me fills the air.

My passion is what inflates the clouds
Gives them their loft
Keeps them afloat.
Gives them the ability to be lighter than air.
Just how I feel when I'm with you.

Joy is the grass beneath me.
The sweet softness under my feet.
It envelops my being
Keeps me sane.

Sadness is the rain.
How it pours over me
And covers all in sight
There is no escaping it
No umbrella to hide under

The hatred inside me is what fills the core
A burning fire in the center of it all.
An inferno at the root of this place.
Its this feeling that is what balances it out
For every one there are two
For every yin
There is a yang

This planet would be nothing without me
A barren wasteland
Empty of any sustenance
Nothing but dirt
For I am this place
What gives it worth
I am it
And it is me

Two poems

Love
Lust
Fear
Passion
Loneliness
Courage
Purity
Eternity
Perfection

What are we?

What would you call this?
This thing we’re wrapped up in.
Some would call it love.
Others lust.
A thing of beauty.
A fusion of two souls,
Into one body.
Together for an eternity,
Always.

The only two people like us.
I for you,
And you’re for me.
Molded in perfection for each other.
What are we?
Made from fear,
Fear of loneliness.
Or forged in courage,
To shield us from our own monster.
There’s no describing how you make me feel…

My blanket: Nee-Nee

Simile: My blanket is like a shield from the world from the world around me.

Metaphor: My nee nee is a secret room for my soul.

Personification: It hugs me when I feel sad