Quickly you make rash decisions. You dismiss your last allies: hope and trust. There you've defeated yourself. Fear, which is but an impression, has triumphed over you.
(pg. 162, Life of Pi by Yann Martel)
Pi states this in the middle of a discussion about fear in chapter fifty-six. He talks about how fear solely takes over you. When he states the selected quotation above, he is mentioning the last step in which fear takes over your body.
When you feel scared, everything seems to melt away. I am not talking about when your friend jumps out in front of you and screams in order to "scare" you for a brief second. That is more surprise than fright or fear. I am talking about when you are forced into doing something out of your comfort zone and horrifying by your standards by your family as in the people you trust like your mother and father.
Picture yourself at Disney World, the happiest place on earth. You are in a line for a ride you have heard an abundance of good reviews about. It seems like a fun idea which your parents want to engage in. However, you have no idea what this ride is exactly. All you know is it is concealed inside of a tall, mountain-like building. Is it a boat ride where you ride around, listening to small, robotic children from all around singing "It's a Small World?" Is it an elevator which instantly drops what feels like a million floors to the ground like the Tower of Terror? The ideas run wild through your head as you stand in an enormous line. Little do you know, your in for an unpleasant surprise.
As you and your family which consists of your mother, father, and little brother only two years younger than yourself move forward and up the line, you hear screams. You ask yourself, "Are they screams of joy or terror?" It seems somewhat hard to tell. A surge of nervousness shoots through your body. What could this ride be? You look to your left and right for someone to inform you of what in the world you are about to take part in. Aha! A security guard is spotted to your right.
"Excuse me, sir," you say as politely as you can manage, voice shaking a bit.
"Yes?" he responds appropriately.
"What type of ride is this exactly?"
"Well, what do you mean?"
"Um, is this a boat ride, swing ride, rollercoaster--"
"It's a rollercoaster, ma'am."
This is the answer you are cut off with. A bead of sweat begins to form on your head. This cannot be right. Your parents could not be forcing you on a rollercoaster. They know you are terrified of them. You turn to your dad.
"This isn't a roller coaster is it?" you ask, eyes beginning to tear up a bit and heart beginning to beat a little faster.
"Hmmm," he says, clearly trying to avoid the answer which is "yes."
"No, Dad. I really can't ride this. Can I please wait outside?" you ask. You're hoping the answer is yes although you have been waiting in a long line for forty-five minutes.
"No. We have been waiting long enough, and you are going on this ride."
That's the answer, and when Dad says no, he means no. Your heart continues pounding as you grow close enough to see the carts which have been concealed inside this dark, mountain-like structure. Your breathing speeds up, and your eyes begin to tear. As a tear dribbles down your cheek and a whimper escapes your lips, people begin to stare and give you funny looks. Your mother and father begin shooting comments your way telling you to be quiet and calm down. Then, it's your turn. You are defiant as your mother and father drag you toward the cart. You try compromising, but all fails. You are placed in the cart and strapped in. All you can say is "no no no." When the lights turn on and cart begins to move forward, your heart seems to leap and get caught in your throat, and your eyes become as wide as a deer's in headlights.
This is the fear Pi describes. The fear Pi describes is that which is traumatizing, leaving a memory firmly planted in your brain. It is like the fear I had as an eleven-year-old being forced to ride Space Mountain at Disney World in Orlando, Florida. There was no escaping that. It was similar to the fear Pi desribes. Once you reach that point in no turning back, fear truly "triumphs over you."
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
William Carlos Williams Inspiration [Post #4]
A Day at the Ballpark
The player swings his bat with the strength of an average man. He misses the ball and is called out. Nearby, the cries are heard of a little girl whose ice cream has become a white, clumpy puddle upon the ground. An old man, a fan of the game for decades, curses under his breath at the umpire's unfortunate call. The young couple to the left smile and whisper. They aren't paying attention to anything but each other. Sweeping can be heard from the tan, slender woman on the cleaning staff who is working three jobs to feed a family of four children and no husband. This is a typical day at the ballpark, a typical day in America.
POEM SET-UP:
A Day at the Ballpark
The player swings his bat
with the strength of an average man.
He misses the ball
and is called out.
Nearby,
the cries are heard
of a little girl whose ice cream
has become a white, clumpy puddle upon the ground.
An old man,
a fan of the game for decades,
curses under his breath
at the umpire's unfortunate call.
The young couple to the left
smile and whisper.
They aren't paying attention to anything
but each other.
Sweeping can be heard
from the tan, slender woman on the cleaning staff
who is working three jobs
to feed a family of four children
and no husband.
This is a typical day at the ballpark,
a typical day in America.
The player swings his bat with the strength of an average man. He misses the ball and is called out. Nearby, the cries are heard of a little girl whose ice cream has become a white, clumpy puddle upon the ground. An old man, a fan of the game for decades, curses under his breath at the umpire's unfortunate call. The young couple to the left smile and whisper. They aren't paying attention to anything but each other. Sweeping can be heard from the tan, slender woman on the cleaning staff who is working three jobs to feed a family of four children and no husband. This is a typical day at the ballpark, a typical day in America.
POEM SET-UP:
A Day at the Ballpark
The player swings his bat
with the strength of an average man.
He misses the ball
and is called out.
Nearby,
the cries are heard
of a little girl whose ice cream
has become a white, clumpy puddle upon the ground.
An old man,
a fan of the game for decades,
curses under his breath
at the umpire's unfortunate call.
The young couple to the left
smile and whisper.
They aren't paying attention to anything
but each other.
Sweeping can be heard
from the tan, slender woman on the cleaning staff
who is working three jobs
to feed a family of four children
and no husband.
This is a typical day at the ballpark,
a typical day in America.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Thanksgiving at the Taylor's -- Extra Credit Blog [Post #3]
Then, the children proceeded to burst out into song. No one expected these powerful voices singing a difficult opera song to come from my two, little cousins.
It was the Thanksgiving of 2001. This was the first year that my cousins from Smyrna, Georgia had come to Thanksgiving which was held every year at our house. My Smyrna cousins consisted of two adults and their two children. These two children were somewhat out of the ordinary.
When they arrived, their five year-old daughter was dressed in a plaid, formal dress. It had "poofs" everywhere. She was a little over-dressed for the occasion. Her little three or four year-old brother was as well. He was dressed just like a little man in his three-piece suit. This was surprising to find a little boy dressed much more formally than any of the other men at our house.
As the day went on, my little brother and I became friends with our cousins who were close to our ages at the time. We even got to sit together at the same table in the kitchen where we all shared jokes and funny stories during dinner.
When dinner came to a close, somehow, the majority of the family who had come to our Thanksgiving feast was congregated in the family room downstairs. One of my cousins, who was also the grandmother of the Smyrna children, asked them to sing a song. I am still not quite sure whether she was saying this in a joking tone or asking them seriously. However, the children took her seriously and gathered together. All of us were expecting a cute, brother-sister duet of a childish Christmas carol. What came out of their mouths was shocking.
The little girl and boy began harmonizing in a spectacular opera song. They sang high and low, proving to us that they were definitely part of an elite children's choir or something similar. Everyone in the room was in complete shock, mouths gaping open. Their mouths remained open, even after the children completed their song. Applause and "whoo's" rang through the household. The children bowed for us and performed another song.
At the end of the Thanksgiving celebration with the Taylor family, everyone was sad to see the singing cousins go. Needless to say, I have never had another Thanksgiving experience quite like this one.
It was the Thanksgiving of 2001. This was the first year that my cousins from Smyrna, Georgia had come to Thanksgiving which was held every year at our house. My Smyrna cousins consisted of two adults and their two children. These two children were somewhat out of the ordinary.
When they arrived, their five year-old daughter was dressed in a plaid, formal dress. It had "poofs" everywhere. She was a little over-dressed for the occasion. Her little three or four year-old brother was as well. He was dressed just like a little man in his three-piece suit. This was surprising to find a little boy dressed much more formally than any of the other men at our house.
As the day went on, my little brother and I became friends with our cousins who were close to our ages at the time. We even got to sit together at the same table in the kitchen where we all shared jokes and funny stories during dinner.
When dinner came to a close, somehow, the majority of the family who had come to our Thanksgiving feast was congregated in the family room downstairs. One of my cousins, who was also the grandmother of the Smyrna children, asked them to sing a song. I am still not quite sure whether she was saying this in a joking tone or asking them seriously. However, the children took her seriously and gathered together. All of us were expecting a cute, brother-sister duet of a childish Christmas carol. What came out of their mouths was shocking.
The little girl and boy began harmonizing in a spectacular opera song. They sang high and low, proving to us that they were definitely part of an elite children's choir or something similar. Everyone in the room was in complete shock, mouths gaping open. Their mouths remained open, even after the children completed their song. Applause and "whoo's" rang through the household. The children bowed for us and performed another song.
At the end of the Thanksgiving celebration with the Taylor family, everyone was sad to see the singing cousins go. Needless to say, I have never had another Thanksgiving experience quite like this one.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Movie Review #1 -- Raiders of the Lost Ark [Post #2]
*Warning: This review contains spoilers!*
Car chases, snakes, blood, deaths, fighting, and many more intense actions are involved in the movie, Indiana Jones; Raiders of the Lost Ark, and sadly, I cannot stand any of this. Since I am a complete wimp, this movie did not appeal to me whatsoever. First of all, at the beginning, Indiana Jones finds a golden head which is instantly taken away by a man who you later find out is a notorious, French architect who is one of Jones' enemies. This completely confused me in the beginning, and truly, I believe the movie could have gone on without this scene. The movie did not revolve around a golden head. It revolved around Indiana Jones and his quest to find the arcane Ark of the Covenant which is said to be the box containing the original Ten Commandments. Throughout the movie, there is loads of action-packed adventures. Anyone who is fascinated by action and fighting and much more would love this movie. However, I have a predilection for romantic-comedies and sweet, touching films. At the end of the movie, there is the very important scene where the Ark is opened, and everything crazy breaks loose. That scene was well-done, but I did not find this scene amusing or interesting. It was creepy in my perspective. To conclude, I recommend this film to anyone who has a penchant for action-packed, bloody, insane movies.
Car chases, snakes, blood, deaths, fighting, and many more intense actions are involved in the movie, Indiana Jones; Raiders of the Lost Ark, and sadly, I cannot stand any of this. Since I am a complete wimp, this movie did not appeal to me whatsoever. First of all, at the beginning, Indiana Jones finds a golden head which is instantly taken away by a man who you later find out is a notorious, French architect who is one of Jones' enemies. This completely confused me in the beginning, and truly, I believe the movie could have gone on without this scene. The movie did not revolve around a golden head. It revolved around Indiana Jones and his quest to find the arcane Ark of the Covenant which is said to be the box containing the original Ten Commandments. Throughout the movie, there is loads of action-packed adventures. Anyone who is fascinated by action and fighting and much more would love this movie. However, I have a predilection for romantic-comedies and sweet, touching films. At the end of the movie, there is the very important scene where the Ark is opened, and everything crazy breaks loose. That scene was well-done, but I did not find this scene amusing or interesting. It was creepy in my perspective. To conclude, I recommend this film to anyone who has a penchant for action-packed, bloody, insane movies.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Freshman Trip Journal [Post #1]
No "call of adventure" for me. Before going on this trip to the Nantahala River, I have to be honest, I wasn't excited at all. First off, school had just started, and summer had just ended, so I really didn't have much time to get excited. Usually for trips, I will pack my bag a couple days before because I am excited to go. However, this was not the case. I packed an hour before I went to bed the night before. I ended up having fun on our trip. I was the worst kayaker though. I think I ran into everyone at least five times. I could not steer that kayak if my life depended on it. So I don't think I will be kayaking much in the future. It was a been there, done that kind of thing.
This trip doesn't complement anything I have learned in school. I wrote that on my second entry. It was an honest comment though. In school, we don't learn to kayak. We learned English, Math, and other subjects that don't have to do with a little boat that is nearly impossible to steer. I must have made these quotes in my journal because I was bitter about my kayaking skills.
This trip doesn't complement anything I have learned in school. I wrote that on my second entry. It was an honest comment though. In school, we don't learn to kayak. We learned English, Math, and other subjects that don't have to do with a little boat that is nearly impossible to steer. I must have made these quotes in my journal because I was bitter about my kayaking skills.
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