Quote Journal for House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende Essay

Quote Journal for House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende ? . . . it made no difference if they studied medicine or had the right to vote, because they would not have the strength to do it, but she herself [Nivea] was not brave enough to be among the first to give up the fashion.? (6, Ch 1) The women in this society are dependant on the dominant male figure to handle political and economical duties. This point of view is intended to mimic the older generation of women ad present a foundation for the growth of an enlightened generation. Allende uses this excerpt to present a foundation of structure to the novel by beginning with the extremes of opinion, which are followed in the novel through different generations. Alba for example, become a very outspoken activist by trying to attend the student protests and follow Miguel on his demonstrations, a sharp contrast to the indifference or shallowness found in her great grandmother. ?It was the custom then for women and children not to attend funerals, which were considered a male province.? (34, Ch 1) Allende utilizes this quote to demonstrate a beginning of plot development by showing elements of a patriarchal society and present the past limitations of women as lower class members of this society. This point of view also is seen from a narrator that exists in the future and is reflecting on past customs and while doing so insinuates that this class limitation will go through change and possible elimination during the course of the novel. It begins a structural approach of presenting to the reader a metamorphosis of women?s role in society through time. ?I would never find another woman [Rosa] with her green hair and underwater beauty.? (35, Ch 1) Green is the color the ocean and a symbol of blossoming and awakening while water is pure and innocent. It has a middling quality and mediates between two extremes, or two political standpoints (Socialism and Conservatism). Life ascends from red and blossoms in green, a feminine color of childbearing, as is seen through the many generations of green haired women. Green is a color of hope, strength and longevity, where Clara and Rosa?s hair help represent them as a very natural and bold feminine aspect of the book. Rosas blossom between green leaves and the symbolic name of Rosa sets the organic tone of femininity found within her sibling, Clara, also b... ...e people of his country can characterize him as a poor leader for the electorate of his country. Although he claims to be fighting for the betterment of the nation and its stability, what can he possibly know about its condition if he fails to recognize the struggles and problems of the underclass majority of the population? ?He realized that all he really cared about was losing his granddaughter, because she was his last link to life.? (399, Ch 13) The value he places on his granddaughter at this point in the story reflects that of the scenario found earlier when Ferula was left to take care of his mother on her deathbed. The reversal in character is found in that his once ambitious and powerful carefree spirit is now left at the hands of his one caretaker. This is while his daughter, now ambitious as he was at that time, is take hostage by the rogue government which constructed itself underneath his nose, while he was supporting it, therefore, it can be seen that ironically, his political obsession with conservatism led to his own destruction of well being and power. Works Cited: Allende, Isabel. Trans. Magda Bogin. The House of the Spirits. New York: Bantam, 1986.

Mission and vision statements Essay

Mission of Toyota is to provide safe & sound journey. Toyota is developing various new technologies from the perspective of energy saving and diversifying energy sources. Environment has been first and most important issue in priorities of Toyota and working toward creating a prosperous society and clean world. 3. Dell vision and mission Vision: It’s the way we do business. It’s the way we interact with the community. It’s the way we interpret the world around us– our customers need, the future of technology, and the global business climate. Whatever changes the future may bring our vision — Dell Vision — will be our guiding force. Mission: â€Å"To be the most successful computer company in the world at delivering the best customer experience in markets we serve.† 4. Pepsi Vision and Mission Vision: â€Å"PepsiCo’s responsibility is to continually improve all aspects of the world in which we operate – environment, social, economic – creating a better tomorrow than today.† Mission: Our mission is to be the world’s premier consumer products company focused on convenient foods and beverages. We seek to produce financial rewards to investors as we provide opportunities for growth and enrichment to our employees, our business partners and the communities in which we operate. And in everything we do, we strive for honesty, fairness and integrity 5. Vision & Mission of Titan Vision: To be a world-class, innovative and progressive organization and to build worlds’s most desirable brands. Mission: To create wealth for all our stakeholders by building highly successful businesses based on a customer-centric approach, and to contribute to the community.

Behavior of People in Power

People who have the highest positions in corporate America are considered as individuals that hold the seat of power. They are refereed to as such because of the amount of resources that they possess as well as their capability to control it. In relation to this, they also have the authority to command other people as they act as superiors to many employees that obtain their source of living from working in their companies. Being the case, there behaviors are often the topic of public scrutiny.People in power behave differently in corporate America. There are cases wherein some of these people tend to abuse the power that they have. The main issue about the behavior of those powerful people in corporate America is in the way they deal with their workers. Corporate managers have been tougher towards there employees in the recent decades. Such kind of action could be attributed to the fact that foreign competition has dramatically increased, which makes business operations even harder to deal with.As such, millions of American workers, regardless of the type of job that they have may it be white-collar or blue-collar and despite of their sex and age are experiencing wage stagnation as well as worsening case of health and pension benefits. Furthermore, workers are pressured by the management to work harder and faster (Greenhouse, 2008). This kind of condition is observable in large and leading American corporations. A good example of this is Wal-Mart. For some time now, Wal-Mart has been facing numerous allegations and lawsuits with regards to their illegal treatment of their employees.The topic of establishing a labor union for Wal-Mart employees has also been the topic of numerous debates. An example of such maltreatment is when some of its workers complain about the indignity and danger of being locked inside their stores at night. There is one incident wherein a supervisor and his worker that is suffering from food poising were locked inside the store, which m ade it impossible for him to take his worker to the hospital (Greenhouse, 2008). Being layed off is one of the hardest thing that an employee can go through especially if he or she is the breadwinner of the family.However, some corporate managers tend to this insensitively like what RadioShack did to 400 of its workers in its headquarters as Forth Worth, Texas. The management fired its workers through e-mail by stating: â€Å"The workforce reduction notification is currently in progress. Unfortunately your position is one that has been eliminated† (Greenhouse, 2008). Based upon the poll conducted by Business Week (2000), almost three-quarters of the American public believes that business, which includes huge corporations is already gaining a whole deal of power in the various aspects of people’s lives.Some Americans also look at corporations as the villain in terms of the demands of various managements towards their workers that made them overworked and stressed out. I n line with this, many Americans also feel that they are not getting and enjoying the fair share of riches that these corporations are earning. This is due to the fact that average wages and benefits have only exceeded inflation by a meager amount of 7. 6%, while productivity has increase by 17. 9%. Moreover, many citizens that belong to the middle-class are pointing out the widening gap between the rich and the poor (Business Week, 2000).The discussions above show that the tremendous amounts of power that corporate America has as well as its great influence over the lives of other people. However, this power has also affected the behavior of some of those who possess authority in these corporations. They have utilized it for their own advantage at the expense of other people’s welfare. Those people who deserve utmost importance like the corporations’ employees are instead place in a very disadvantageous position. References Business Week. (2000). Too Much Corporate Po wer?Retrieved September 23, 2008, from http://www. businessweek. com/2000/00_37/b3698001. htm. Greenhouse, S. (2008). Has Corporate America Turned Callous Toward its Workers? Retrieved September 23, 2008, from http://tpmcafe. talkingpointsmemo. com/2008/06/30/ has_corporate_america_turned_c/. http://tpmcafe. talkingpointsmemo. com/2008/06/30/has_corporate_america_turned_c/ http://knowledge. wpcarey. asu. edu/article. cfm? articleid=1008 http://www. businessweek. com/2000/00_37/b3698001. htm http://jimgentil. blogspot. com/2007

Manifestation Music Essay

Robert Allen Zimmerman, or Bob Dylan, was born to become a star. As a child he had dreamed of becoming a musical icon which he tried to achieve during his younger years. As part of his ambition to become a famous musician and icon, at age ten, Bob Dylan started to write poems and even taught himself to play the guitar and piano (Millar n. p). His musical style was primarily influenced by Elvis Presley, Little Richard, and Jerry Lee Lewis which became apparent in the progression of his career. The drive and passion of Bob Dylan in pursuing his musical career escalated when he went to the University of Minnesota where he began to consider the folk and rock songs of artists such as Hank Williams, Woody Guthrie and Robert Johnson (Millar n. p). During his college years, he had a hard time attending schools because of his preoccupation in music. He finally dropped out of college to pursue his dreams. When Bob finally had his break in 1961, he first played folk songs instead of his own desired genre. His first album was not how he expected it to be because he really wanted to do his own songs. However, Bob Dylan turned his situation around in the next albums that he made. His succeeding songs were basically inspired by the profound â€Å"political activism† of the young people during the 1960s (Lemieux 1). The people were very empowered to make a stand and respond to the pressing problems of the society like gender, class, and race. This escalating emotion ultimately paved the way for mass protests and movements for social change. These situations during the 60s also influenced the music of Bob Dylan which is distinctively political in nature. Although Bob would assert that he is more of a social commentator, the people listening to his music are actually receiving a different vibe or perspective (Lemieux 1). Bob Dylan’s Music One of Bob Dylan’s most famous songs, â€Å"Blowin’ in the Wind,† became an anthem in America’s 1960 counterculture. He wrote it during the Vietnam War era as a response to the eventualities and casualties of that period in American history (Mason n. p). The song greatly depicts Bob Dylan’s observation of the political and social status of the society and how the people tends to shrug-off the escalating problem in the Vietnam crisis which eventually worsened. This is perceived in the second stanza of the song stating: Yes, ‘n’ how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry? Yes, ‘n’ how many deaths will it take till he knows That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind, The answer is blowin’ in the wind. (Dylan n. p) Aside from the song â€Å"Blowin’ in the Wind,† Bob Dylan also created another politically inclined song entitled â€Å"The Times They Are A-Changin† (Mason n. p). The song, which was actually written after John F. Kennedy was assassinated also became significant as it expresses the confidence and the hope perceived in the political and social movements during the 60s. As observed in the song, the singer is inviting the people from different walks of life to come together and pursue the future with a glimmer of hope and unity. Moreover, in the latter part of the song, Bob Dylan gave a great amount of effort in creating a beautiful lyrical stanza which encourages the people never to give up and continue looking for the silver lining in their current social instability. Bob Dylan is indeed a great singer during his time. His passion for music and empowering lyrics really enabled the people to make a difference and stand firm for what they believe is right. It is also because of the socio-political awareness imparted by Bob Dylan’s songs that he was seen by the society as a great protest singer and an inspirational person as well. Works Cited Dylan, Bob. â€Å"Blowin’ in the Wind. † 1962. 16 May 2008 . Lemieux, Nicole. Bob Dylan and the Sixties: A Social Commentary Reflecting Politics and Existentialism. Diss. Pace University, 2006. Mason, Catharine. â€Å"Bob Dylan: A Biography. † March 2005. Bob Dylan’s Performance Artistry. 16 May 2008 . Millar, BJ. â€Å"The Life of Bob Dylan. † n. d. 16 May 2008 .

The Secret of Ella and Micha Chapter 10

Ella I can remember the first time I wanted to kiss Micha as clearly as the day I found my mother dead. Both times were equally as terrifying, but in two different ways. Micha and I had been sitting on the hood of his car at our secret spot tucked away in the trees, staring out at the lake. It was harder than hell to get back to the spot, but the view and serenity made it worth it. It had been quiet between the two of us for a while, which was normal except for the jealousy stirring inside me over Micha's latest hook up, Cassandra. I'd never felt this way before and it puzzled me. It wasn't like the girl was anything special to Micha, but he'd told Ethan that she had the potential to be girlfriend material and it was bugging me. Micha's arms were tucked under his head and his eyes were shut as the sunlight beamed down on him. His shirt had ridden up and I could see his tattoo peeking out. As I stared at it the urge to run my fingers along it drove me crazy. â€Å"I don't like Cassandra,† I abruptly sputtered out, sitting up quickly. Micha's eyebrows knitted as his eyes gradually opened against the sunlight. â€Å"Huh?† â€Å"That Cassandra girl you were talking about the other day,† I said, staring out at the water rippling in the gentle breeze. â€Å"I don't think you should date her.† He rose up on his elbows. â€Å"Because you don't like her?† â€Å"No†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I tucked strands of my auburn hair out of my eyes. â€Å"I just don't want you to date her.† The wind filled the silence. Micha sat up and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. â€Å"Okay, I won't,† he said as if it was as simple as breathing. I pressed back a smile, not fully understanding why the hell I was so happy. Micha lay back down and drew me with him. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heart beating, steady as a rock, unlike mine which was dancing inside my chest. The longer I stayed in his arms, the more content I became. I felt safe, like nothing could hurt me, but I was in complete denial that I was starting to fall in love with my best friend. *** It's been a week since the car racing incident and I've been hiding out in my bedroom living on mac n' cheese and Diet Dr. Pepper. Dean still hasn't headed home, but Lila did the morning after the race. She wanted to stay, but I didn't want her to and I think her dad wasn't too keen on the idea either. It's been kind of lonely, though. I still haven't listened to Micha's voicemail, and the constant flashing on the screen torments me. I decide to take a break from the house today and do something I've been meaning to do for a while. I want to sketch my mother's grave because I won't always be close enough to visit it. It's been bothering me the entire eight months that I've been gone. I feel guilty because it was me who put her there and then I just left her. I collect my sketch book and pencils from the drawer of my night stand, slip on my shoes and sunglasses, and head out the front door where I'm less likely to run into Micha. It's a warm day and the blue sky glitters with sunshine. I walk up the sidewalk toward Cherry Hill and decide to make a last minute stop at Grady's. I knock on the trailer door and Amy, the nurse, answers it wearing blue scrubs. â€Å"Oh, hi Ella, I don't think Grady's up for any visitors today, sweetie.† â€Å"But he told me to stop by,† I say stupidly. â€Å"I know it's a little later than I told him and I'm sorry.† â€Å"He's not mad at you, Ella,† she says kindly. â€Å"I've just got him hooked up on oxygen and he's got a cough.† I shield my eyes from the sun and stare up at her. â€Å"Is he okay?† She sighs, leaning against the doorframe. â€Å"He's just having a rough day today, but try back in a few days, okay hun.† I nod and back down the steps as she shuts the door. I stare helplessly at the back window which leads to Grady's room. He's sick and there's nothing I can do. I have no control over this. Micha was right. I can't control everything. As horrid images of my mom's death flash through my mind, I run into the field and throw up. *** The town's cemetery is located up on Cherry Hill, which on foot is quite a hike, but I enjoy the break from the reality of life. There is no one up there – there hardly ever is. I push through the gate and situate by a tree right in front of my mom's headstone. It's a small cemetery bordered by trees and the grass is covered with dry leaves. As I sketch the lines of the fence and the vines that coil it, I angle downward and draw the curve of her tombstone. I become lost in the movements, adding wings to the side of it, because she was always so fascinated with flying. A few weeks before her death, my mother begged me to go on a walk with her. I gave in even though I had plans that day. It was sunny and the air smelled like cut grass. It felt like nothing could go wrong. She wanted to go to the bridge so we walked all the way across town to the lake. When we arrived there, she climbed on the railing and spread her hands out to balance as her long auburn hair flapped in the wind. â€Å"Mom, what are you doing?† I said, reaching for the back of her shirt to pull her down. She sidestepped down the railing out of my reach and stared at the water below. â€Å"Ella May, I think I can fly.† â€Å"Mom, stop it and get down,† I said, not taking her very seriously at first. But when she turned her head and looked at me, I could see in her eyes that she wasn't joking. She really believed she could fly. I tried to stay as composed as possible. â€Å"Mom, please get down. You're scaring me.† She shook her head and her legs wobbled a little. â€Å"It's okay honey. I'll be fine. I can feel it in my body that I can fly.† I took a cautious step toward her and my foot bumped the curb of the bridge. The cement rubbed my toe raw and I could feel blood oozing out, but I didn't look down at it. I was too afraid to take my eyes off her. â€Å"Mom, you can't fly. People can't fly.† â€Å"Then maybe I'm a bird,† she said seriously. â€Å"Maybe I have wings and feathers and they can carry me away and I can become one with the wind.† â€Å"You're not a bird!† I shouted and reached for her again, but she hopped onto one of the beams and laughed like it was a game. I tugged my fingers through my hair and steadied onto the railing. It was a far fall, one that would crush our bodies on impact, even in the water. I braced my hands on the beams above my head. â€Å"Mom, if you love me at all, you'll get down.† She shook her head. â€Å"No, I'm going to fly today.† A truck rolled up and stopped on the middle of the bridge as I edged toward her. Ethan jumped out and didn't so much as flinch at the scenario. â€Å"Hey, Mrs. Daniels. How's it going?† I gaped at him and hissed, â€Å"What are you doing?† He ignored me. â€Å"You know it's not really safe out there.† My mom angled her head to the side. â€Å"I think I'll be okay. My wings will carry me away.† I was mortified, but Ethan didn't miss a beat. He rested his arms on the railing. â€Å"As much as that could be true, what if it's not? Then what? I mean is it really worth the risk?† I glanced back at my mom and she looked like she was weighing the options. She stared at the dark water below her feet and then at the bright sky above her head. â€Å"Maybe I should think about it for a little bit.† Ethan nodded. â€Å"I think that's probably a good idea.† She made a path across the beam and planted her feet on the railing. Ethan helped her down and we got her into the backseat of his truck. She fell asleep within minutes and I slumped my head back against the chair. â€Å"How did you do that?† I asked quietly. â€Å"One of my friends was tripping out of their mind one night and I had to talk him out of jumping off the roof,† he explained. â€Å"It was all about making her realize that there was more than one scenario.† I nodded and we stayed quiet for the rest of the drive to my house. Ethan never brought it up to me, nor did he treat me differently and I was grateful for it. After a doctor's visit, it was determined that my mother had started to suffer from ‘Delusions of Grandeur,' which happens sometimes in bipolar patients. I finally pull away from the drawing when it's nearly dark. I gather my sketchpad and pencils and head down the hill. In front of the arch iron entryway is Micha, sitting on the hood of his mom's car, wearing jeans, and a black and red plaid shirt. His head is tipped down and wisps of his blonde hair cover his forehead as he messes around with his phone. I stop a little ways off from him. â€Å"What are you doing here?† His eyes lift from his phone. â€Å"I'm waiting for you.† â€Å"How did you know I was here?† â€Å"I saw you leave with your sketchpad and head this way, so I came up to check on you.† I take a tentative step forward. â€Å"How long have you been sitting here?† He slides off the hood and puts his phone away. â€Å"For a while, but I didn't want to disturb you. You looked too peaceful.† I press my lips together and stare at him, craving to sketch him like I used to. He would sit on my bed and it was like he owned my hand. â€Å"Look, about the other night, I think – â€Å" He strides across the grass toward me, moving so impulsively that there's no time to react as his finger covers my lips. â€Å"Just let it be for a while, okay?† Uncertain of his exact meaning, I nod anyway. He lets his finger fall from my lips, trailing a line down my chest, finally pulling away at the bottom of my stomach. â€Å"You want a ride home?† His voice comes out ragged. I glance at the grey sky and the birds flying across it. â€Å"That would be nice. Thank you.† Micha She's preoccupied during the drive and so am I. I was so pissed off about my father that I got into the car about to do something reckless, however, then I saw Ella wandering down the street, and I followed her. The way she walked was very entertaining, her auburn hair blowing in the wind, and the way she swayed her ass in the short denim shorts she was wearing. It calmed me down watching her sit up on the hill and draw, but I can't stop thinking about the phone conversation. â€Å"We should go somewhere,† I announce when we drive onto the main road. Ella jolts in her seat and turns away from the window. â€Å"I should probably go home.† â€Å"Come on.† I pout, hoping it'll win her over. â€Å"Just come with me somewhere and we can relax.† She's tempted. â€Å"Where exactly?† I turn the volume of the stereo down and let my arm rest on the top of the steering wheel. â€Å"To our spot by the lake.† â€Å"But it takes forever to get there.† Her eyes rise to the dark sky. â€Å"And it's getting late.† â€Å"Since when have you been afraid of the dark?† â€Å"It's not the dark I'm afraid of.† I sigh and downshift. â€Å"Come on, just you and me. We don't even have to talk. We can just sit in silence.† â€Å"Fine,† she surrenders, tossing her sketchpad into the backseat. â€Å"Just as long as you don't ask me questions.† I hold up my hand innocently. â€Å"Scouts honor. I'll keep my questions to myself.† Her eyes narrow. â€Å"I know you've never been in the scouts before.† I laugh, feeling the pressure lift from my chest. â€Å"It doesn't matter. I'll keep my questions to myself, but with everything else, all bets are off.† She pretends to have an itch on her nose, but really it's to obscure her smile and it makes me smile myself. *** Its pitch black by the time we reach our spot on the shore that's secluded by tall trees. The moon reflects against the water and the night air is a little chilly. I get my jacket out of the trunk and offer it to Ella, knowing she's cold because of the goosebumps on her arms and the way her nipples are poking through her shirt. She slips the jacket on and zips it up, covering up her perky nipples. I sigh, hop onto the hood, and open my arms for her to join me. Hesitantly, she climbs onto the hood, but stays at the front, with her feet propped up on the bumper, gazing out at the water. I scoot down by her and keep my knees up, resting my elbows on them. â€Å"What are you thinking about?† Her eyes are huge in the moonlight. â€Å"Death.† â€Å"What about death?† I wonder if we're finally going to go back to that night. â€Å"That Grady's going to die,† she whispers softly. â€Å"And there's nothing I can do about it.† I brush her hair back from her forehead. â€Å"You need to stop worrying about everything that can't be controlled.† She sighs and leans away from my hand. â€Å"That's just it, though. It's all I can think about anymore. It's like this fixation I have no control over which makes no sense because I'm fixated on controlling the uncontrollable.† She's breathing wildly. Shit. I need to calm her down. â€Å"Hey, come here.† I loop my arms around her waist and lie her down on the windshield with me. She rests her head on my chest and I play with her hair, breathing in her vanilla scent. â€Å"Do you remember when you decided that it would be a good idea if you climbed up the scaffolding in the gym?† â€Å"I wanted to prove to Gary Bennitt that I was as tough as the boys.† She buries her face into my shirt, ashamed. â€Å"Why do you remember everything?† â€Å"How could I forget that? You scared the hell out of me when you fell. Yet, somehow you managed to land on the board just below it.† â€Å"I thought I was going to die,† she murmurs. â€Å"I was so stupid.† â€Å"You weren't stupid, you just saw life at a different angle,† I say. â€Å"I've always envied you for it. Like when you used to dance in a room where no one was dancing or how you stuck up for people. But there was always that wall you put up. You would never let anyone completely through.† She's soundless for a while and I expect for her to push me away. But she sits up and hovers over me, her hair veiling our faces. Her breath is ragged, like she's terrified out of her mind. â€Å"I opened up to you once,† she whispers. â€Å"When we were here in this spot doing this same thing.† I can't take my eyes off her lips. â€Å"I'm not sure what you're talking about.† She licks her lips. â€Å"I told you I didn't want you dating Cassandra.† â€Å"Cassandra†¦ Oh, was that what that was about?† I start to laugh. â€Å"What's so funny?† she asks, but I can't stop laughing. She pinches my nipple and I jerk upward, smacking my forehead against hers. â€Å"Ow.† She blinks, rubbing her forehead and a laugh escapes her lips. â€Å"Tell me what's so funny.† She looks beautiful, trying to be pissed, when deep down she's relishing the moment. I'm enjoying myself, which I didn't envisage tonight, but if anyone can cheer me up, it's her. Like when my dad left and she caught me in the garage, clutching onto his tool box crying like a baby. She gave me her Popsicle and then just sat there with me until I ran out of tears. I eye her over and she fusses with her hair self-consciously. With one quick movement, I flip us over so my body is covering hers. â€Å"When I told Ethan about that day when you told me not to see Cassandra, he told me you had a thing for me. He's usually not right about those things.† â€Å"I didn't have a thing for you,† she argues. â€Å"I just didn't want anyone else to have a thing for you.† â€Å"You're adorable when you deny the truth. You always have been.† â€Å"Micha, I used to have studs on every item of clothing I owned and enough black eyeliner to make an entire sketch. That's not adorable.† â€Å"It is on you.† I wink at her. She shakes her head and pokes a finger at my chest. â€Å"Don't try and use your player moves on me.† We remain silent, frozen in the moment, until I finally speak again. â€Å"I have an idea.† Curiosity slowly takes over her face as I shift over her body. My arms are at the side of her head, barely holding my weight up. My face hovers above hers, our lips only an inch apart, and she lies perfectly still. â€Å"I want to kiss you.† She shakes her head promptly. â€Å"I don't think that's a good idea.† I trace one of my fingers over her lips. I've been going about this all wrong. I can't force myself on her. I have to move slow and think of her as a skittish cat that needs to be approached cautiously. â€Å"Just kiss. I swear to God that's all we'll do.† I move my finger away from her lips. â€Å"And kissing's not that scary, right?† â€Å"With you it is,† she says truthfully. â€Å"If you want me not to, just say it.† Taking my time, I leisurely lower my lips toward hers. She stays stationary, her big green eyes targeted on my mouth. Slowly, so she has time to let her thoughts slow down, I caress my lips across hers. A small gasp flees from her lips and I slip my tongue into her mouth. Her hands glide up my back and into my hair. My body conforms to hers as I explore her mouth with my tongue. She bites down on my bottom lip, sucking my lip ring into her mouth before releasing it. Fuck. She's making this hard. I intensify the kiss as my body becomes more impatient, but I keep my promise and only kiss her, even when she fastens her legs around my waist and rubs up against me. Ella He said just kiss and it seemed okay, but now my body has developed a mind of its own. I'm writhing my hips against him enjoying the pleasure erupting inside me. He's hard between my legs as he kisses me so fiercely that my lips are swollen. His fingers tangle in my hair and his tongue plunges deeper and deeper into my mouth the more I rock against him. My head falls back and my eyes open to the stars shining in the sky. It feels like I'm falling or flying†¦ I'm not sure, but whatever it is I can't seem to control it. For a second, I want to capture the moment, put it in a jar, and always have it with me, but panic seizes my mind and I jerk away from his lips. His eyes snap open and his pupils are vast. â€Å"What's wrong?† â€Å"Nothing†¦ It's just†¦ I have to calm down.† I take a deep breath, my skin still tingling in the spots his hands touched. Micha nods, breathless. Carefully, he moves off of me and leans back against the window, securing his hand around mine. We don't speak as we stare up at the sky. He traces his finger along the folds between my fingers and my eyelids drift shut. I feel a wall crumble, leaving behind dust, debris, and pieces that desperately need to be put back together. *** â€Å"Are you okay?† I ask Micha when we pull into my driveway. He's been quiet the whole drive home and I can tell something's bothering him. â€Å"Yeah, I'm fine,† he says with a shrug and then his gaze darts to the back window as headlights shine up behind us. â€Å"Although, you might not be.† My eyebrows furrow. â€Å"Why? What's wrong?† He points a finger at a car parking at the curb in front of my house; a shiny black Mercedes with a familiar blonde-haired driver sitting in it. â€Å"Oh my God, is that Lila's car?† I ask. â€Å"I'm guessing yes, since I doubt anyone around here owns a Mercedes.† Lila climbs out of the car and it's clear that she's been crying. Her eyes are swollen and her cheeks are red. She has her pajama bottoms on and a hoodie pulled over her head. The last time she walked around in an outfit like that she'd just broken up with her boyfriend. â€Å"I think she might have some issues at home,† I tell him, grabbing the door handle. â€Å"She acted like she didn't want to go home.† â€Å"But you didn't ask her about it?† he questions with an arch of his eyebrow. I bite my lip guiltily. â€Å"I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.† God, I'm a terrible friend. Lila heads up the driveway and we get out to meet her around the back. Before I can say anything, she hugs me and starts to sob. I tense, not used to being hugged, except by Micha. â€Å"I didn't want to go back there,† she cries. â€Å"I knew this was going to happen.† I look over Lila's head at Micha for help. â€Å"It'll be okay.† He gives me a sympathetic look and mouths, take her inside. I nod and he waves at me, getting back into his car. I guide Lila into the house holding her weight up for her like she's ill. When I get her into my room, she curls up on my bed and hugs a pillow. I wait a minute before I speak. â€Å"Do you want to talk about it?† She shakes her head. â€Å"I just want to go to sleep.† â€Å"Alright.† I turn off the light and collapse onto the trundle. I need to get into my pajamas, but it's been an exhausting day. â€Å"My dad hates me,† Lila whispers through sobs. I freeze and then sit up, squinting at her through the dark. â€Å"I'm sure he doesn't hate you.† â€Å"Yes, he does,† she says. â€Å"He always says so – that he wished he had sons instead of daughters because they're easier to deal with.† â€Å"Are you going to be okay?† I ask, unsure what else to say. â€Å"I will be. It'll just take some time.† Was that the magical cure? Time. I flop back down and fall asleep to the murmur of her sobs.

MODULE TITTLE-Substance use and misuse (health) Essay

MODULE TITTLE-Substance use and misuse (health) - Essay Example The Royal College of Psychiatrists has acknowledged the problem and is working collaboratively to bring integrated treatment systems for individuals with co-morbidity problems (Hussein, 2002). Schizophrenia and cannabis abuse. Substance abuse is very prevalent among schizophrenia patients and it has been found that â€Å"the most often misused substances are alcohol and cannabis† (Weinberger and Harrison, 2011, p.123). The first study to find a connection between cannabis use and schizophrenia was done by Andreasson, Allbeck and Rydberg (1987), and this study concluded that there is some incontrovertible association. One estimate is that â€Å"roughly one quarter of patients with schizophrenia spectrum disorders currently use or misuse cannabis† (Weinberger and Harrison, 2011, p.123-124). In an Australian study also, it was found that 40.9% of the 852 schizophrenic patients were having lifelong use of cannabis (Weinberger and Harrison, 2011, p.201). Other research findi ngs have also indicated that â€Å"patients with schizophrenia are more likely to use cannabis than other psychiatric patients or normal† persons (Hall and Pacula, 2003, p.90). A comprehensive study that examined about 4000 studies from around the world has also warned youngsters that using cannabis will make them more vulnerable to schizophrenia (Moore et al., 2007). While exploring this curious connection, researchers have found out that â€Å"cannabis use (induced) psychotic symptoms in adulthood† and resulted in an â€Å"earlier age at onset† (Weinberger and Harrison, 2011, p.124). In many schizophrenic individuals, the â€Å"first social/occupational dysfunction, first negative symptom, (or) first psychotic episode† occurred after the use of cannabis (Weinberger and Harrison, 2011, p.124). Another projection made by a UK study was that â€Å"by 2010, †¦approximately 10% of schizophrenia cases† would be attributable to cannabis misuse (Wei nberger and Harrison, 2011, p.201). As almost all the studies on the connection between cannabis use and schizophrenia have been done taking adult male samples only, all these findings are mostly applicable only to adult males. But it has also been noted that the rate of occurrence of schizophrenia has not increased in proportion with the rate of use of cannabis among young males (Degenhardt, Hall and Lynskey, 2001, pp.32). Opposers of this view, on the other hand have argued that â€Å"in Australia — where marijuana use is heavy among teens — it’s not uncommon for 20 to 30 per cent of new episodes of schizophrenia to be among patients who use marijuana daily or almost daily† (Turning Point Detox, 2011). Why individuals who suffer from schizophrenia misuse cannabis. The question that arises from the above discussion and which is relevant to this study is why individuals suffering from schizophrenia often misuse cannabis. One answer could be that â€Å"sc hizophrenic brains may be more sensitive to toxic influences† (Aronson, 2008, p.480). The impact of cannabis on risk taking behavior is another aspect that needs to be considered as schizophrenic patients most often will be in an abnormal mental state and it will be easy for them to get used to the risk involved in substance abuse. Generally, there has been a controversy raging on whether cannabis use leads schizophrenia or whether schizophrenia prompts an individual to use cannabis. A third possibility including both is also there. One assumption has been

Examine how Alices Adventures in Wonderland major theme of growing up Essay

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