In my first micro fiction piece, I used the first line from Antonya Nelson’s Land’s End, “her foot begins bleeding on the beach, but by the jagged funnel of a broken bottle.” This sentence describes the magic love has over pain. In my second micro fiction piece, I used a tweet from my own Twitter; “not going to lie, swimming in the ocean mid September fully clothed is invigorating. Cross that off my bucket list.” 
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     The crisp air of the autumn rolling in pierced my summer skin. I wasn’t used to the temperature change. Ever since his life was taken I could not control the urge to make something more of my life. I wanted to fly with the birds in the sky and swim with the fish in the sea. I could not keep living my life with the constant regret and sorrow. If I didn’t change soon, the fear of death would take over me completely. It was my time.

            Every morning I saw his face. “Sweetheart, it’s a new day. Don’t forget to smile,” he would wake me with. His spirit was overwhelming; I wish I could feel his touch on my skin. I knew every word he would say to me if he was here.

            The slight breeze or the warm sensation on my forehead was just his way of letting me know he was still around me. There was one morning in particular that I knew he was with me. I opened my eyes to a little white piece of paper, “take a chance today.” I pondered over my morning cup of freshly brew coffee; what could I do?

            I walked down to the beach, the cool air sent shivers down my spine. I took one look at the blue-green ocean and felt the warm sun shine down upon my body. Without hesitation, I took off. I ran as fast as I could. I threw my inhibitions to the wind and didn’t look back. Swimming in the ocean mid-September, fully clothed was invigorating. I can cross that off my bucket list.

            I looked to the sky, and thanked him.

Tweets:

1.  I wanna make you smile, Whenever you're sad. Carry you around when your arthritis is bad. All I wanna do, Is grow old with you #Twitterive
2. I can die happy now after eating these sextatos, flakey buns and teryaki steak. W/ @alliariemma #twitterive #tfwf11
3. There's nothing like seeing two people in love.. #parents #twitterive #tfwf11 t.co/8L6LRMtA
4. Saw the most beautiful sunset last night. No editing, this is how it was. #twitterive #tfwf11 t.co/Ajs2IHQt
5. All my windows still are broken but I'm standing on my feet. #Twitterive #11months #JER
6. I will feel your grace and carry on & w/every breath of me, youll be the only light I see #twitterive
7. t.co/3EUoABYR - it's a little crab we found on the beach in brigantine :)
8. not going to lie, swimming in the ocean mid sept fully clothed is invigorating. cross that off my bucket list. #twitterive #tfwf11 #fall
9. The last hug we shared is stitched in my brain #twitterive
10. getting my mind off reality by soaking up this

The Final Product:
I wanna make you smile,
Whenever you’re sad.
Carry you around
When your arthritis is bad.
All I wanna do,
Is grow old with you.

I can die happy now
 After seeing a beautiful sunset
And two people in love
On the beach in Brigantine.

I am standing on my feet;
Will feel your grace and carry on
With every breath of me
You’ll be the only light I see

Swimming in your ocean-
 Invigorating my mind.
the last hug we shared
Is stitched in my brain.

I wanna make you smile,
Whenever you’re sad.
Carry you around
When your arthritis is bad.
All I wanna do,
Is grow old with you.”

For my one and only.

    Once again, Gloria Anzaldúa has blown me away. I think the reason I am so drawn to her work, is because of her use of Spanglish. Having to identify words or phrases gave me time to stop and reflect on what I just read.     I do want to take the time to point something out... "If you want to be American, speak 'American.' If you don't like it go back to Mexico where you belong." <- This phrase was the first that really stuck out to me and stayed in the back of my mind throughout the piece. I feel like people are loosing sight of the beauty of culture and languages. I think the most interesting aspect of a person is the accent, whether they come from South Jersey, North Jersey, Mexico, England, Australia, or Middle American, every persons voice sounds different from the person standing next to them. ..    OH and BY THE WAY... To whomever this person may be... It is, "if you want to be American, speak ENGLISH." So maybe that person should go back to where they came from, or open up a book or two!!!!!!
   

The movie Spanglish reminds me of this article. I believe that everyone should have the right to decide what language they speak. If a person comes to America they should be able to speak their own language. Why don't we, as Americans, take the time to learn their language instead of forcing them to learn ours? Food for thought, my friends.

     More times than not, Americans look at immigrants as not having the rights to be in our country. What they fail to realize, (and I use "they" very harshly), is that the immigrants coming to America see this country as being free and wanting to be a part of it.
     Often times, Mexicans are stereotyped and rejected from society because they come to our country and take our jobs and don’t speak our language. I am a firm believer that there should be peace all over the world and not just within countries. I don’t think there should ever been separate countries and “borders”. If a person wants to live in America that was not born here, they should be able to. Just as if I wanted to live in, for shits sake, Africa. I should be able to. Who is to say that this land is ours? A song? “This land is your land, this land is my land, blah blah blah…” What happened to that song? I think different languages are beautiful. I also think, though, that if a person speaks a different language, they should at least learn enough to get by in the country they want to live in. If I were to move to a different country that spoke a different language than English, I would do everything I could to learn it before I went, or while I was there.
    I have had personal experience working with Mexican men. They came from Mexico to work at my job and they were by far the best workers I have ever seen in my entire life. They would do anything anyone asked at the drop of a hat. They spoke English enough for us to understand them and not to mention how friendly they were. They only wanted to be a part of our country… and hell; they did a better job than every American put together in that place.
    Anyway, Gloria Anzaldúa, writes beautifully in my opinion. I absolutely love the mixture of Spanish into her piece, Borderlands. It really gave me a sense of what she was feeling. Sometimes there are no words to describe what is trying to be said, so using the Spanish language to express her grief and sorrow for the circumstances was the best possible action to take.

Come on baby take a ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

People know this world is a wreck
We're sick and tired of being politically correct
If I see through it now but I didn't at first
The hypocrites made it worse and worse
Lookin' down their noses at what people say
These are just words and words are okay
It's what you do and not what you say
If you're not part of the future then get out of the way

Come on baby take a ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

Racism lives in the U.S. today
Better get hip to what Martin Luther King had to say
I don't want my kids being brought up this way
Hatred to each other is not okay
Well I'm not a preacher just a singer son
But I can see more work to be done
It's what you do and not what you say
If you're not part of the future then get out of the way

Come on baby take a ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

Lay back the top and ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

The money's good and the work is okay
Looks like everything is rollin our way
'Til you gotta look the devil in the eye
You know that bastard's one big lie
So be careful with your heart and what you love
Make sure that it was sent from above
It's what you do and not what you say
If you're not part of the future then get out of the way

Come on baby take a ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

Lay back the top and ride with me
I'm up from Indiana down to Tennessee
Everything is cool as can be
In a peaceful world

Hey yeah

When I'm done reading a story or book, I like to take time to sit back and think about the story as a whole. What does this story make me think of? Creepy old men and Adventuring. Two of my favorite things. Just kidding. But adventuring is my favorite activity, so how relevant. One of my favorite shoes is Family Guy. One of my favorite creepy old men is this guy. I can't help but think about him as I read The Encounter. He has nothing to do with the story but he is so creepy about love and the old man in this story keeps asking the boys about their sweethearts. He might as well be asking them if they want some candy. Creepy. Anyway. I like James Joyce. His writing is a little odd for me but overall, I can't say anything bad.

Okay, I have to write this down while I'm reading this story... On the first page, is Sallie getting put into a warm bath and then thrown outside still wrapped in a white sheet? If so, I'm not sure if I want to read this story anymore... I keep getting a feeling of hot and cold while reading this. It's almost too hard to focus on the "place" unless by place it is in reference to a mental state she is in?? I notice the descriptions of darkness and light... still, I feel like I am in complete darkness whilst readying this story.

    I'm finding myself losing concentration with this piece. I started off strong and found myself being intrigued and writing, especially when I got to Living a Narrative Life. This piece, honestly, just didn't do it for me. The only thing I really pulled out of this reading, was the point of reading it, I guess... PLACE. There is an important place for the narrator and the way he describes nature paints a picture for me. If I had to narrow my "place" down it would be Sunrise Mountain in Sussex County, New Jersey. My parents were married on top of the mountain in October at sunset. This spot has always had a special place in my heart and it's someplace I always return to. No matter how long it has been since I've been home, I can always go there and feel like I never left.

    Living the Narrative Life by Gian S. Pagnucci is a great reminder that we need to keep our childhood alive. I can't help but want to post a picture of what I remember most fondly about my childhood.
    The picture to your left is of my stepfather, Michael, and I. Michael took on the responsibility of raising my siblings and I, with my mother. Every summer we would head down to Long Beach Island where my grandmother and grandfather still currently live. We would be on the beach by ten every morning and stay until four or five in the afternoon.
    Anyway, the gist of the Living a Narrative Life is very informative and gives the reader and sense of pushing forward and remembering important aspects of your life. There are so many points I want to write down from this piece: "The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting" (Page 71).

    "Far more important, I would argue, than our frustrations over distant problems are the real incidents and events that make up our lives: birthday parties, a first kiss, the loss of a loved one, taking a walk in the moonlight. Some of these memories, of course, stay with us forever. But too many fade despite how much we might wish to hold onto them. It's especially easy to see this when on thinks of close friends who have slipped from acquaintance as time and distance have intervened in life. Peoples' names and faces last for a while, but many of the good times slip away. Telling our own stories is one way to hang on to these memories, to preserve the details, to save and treasure things that really mattered to us" (Page 72).
    In response to the quote above, there are so many memories I wish I held on to. There are too many times were I was upset and tried to erase someone from my mind, and months later, we were fine again. There is one person in particular I think of when I go to this place, Jeremy. He was one of my best friends. We met at the Sussex County Farm and Horse Show when I was 13 years old. Our mutual friend Mark introduced us. We had our ups and downs and there were times I threw out old pictures because I was upset or didn't talk to him because we had a fight. I look back now and regret every moment of those arguments and every picture I threw away. This October 28th will mark the one year anniversary of Jeremy's death. He was killed in a motorcycle accident less than two months after our mutual friend, Mark (who introduced us), was killed on his motorcycle. Life is too short to throw away those memories. They are important aspects of our lives that we will wish we had held on to when we are ninety.

     While reading Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik, I found myself being fully intrigued by Gopnik’s descriptions of the Winter Circus. It made me want to be a part of it and really pulled me back to that time era. There was one section of the reading that I stopped and trailed off into my own imagination; “He rides the carousel, the fallen leaves piled neatly all around it, and though bent-up it is a beauty. The animals are chipped, the paint is peeling, the giraffe and elephant are missing hooves and tusks, and the carousel is musicless and graceless.” (Page 38) It made me appreciate what I thought of carousels when I was a child. They were magical and although the “place” may not be physical for everyone since I have never been to Paris, I can still possess the image in my own mind.