All posts by AldayA1211

The Pulse of “Love” and Emotions

It was a day with a clear blue sky. It was peaceful and I was glad especially knowing that my husband went off on a trip. Why do I say I’m glad? I wonder myself. Love is that sort of feeling of deep affection towards one another or the act of wanting to see someone by your side. Love however is something that I can’t truly define. I love my husband but my love for him fluctuates like my heart beat.

There was somewhat of a commotion downstairs. I questioned myself, what could possibly be going on? So I went downstairs to find out what was going on for myself. Judging by the commotion, I knew something unappealing was coming my way. That “unappealing” thought I had turned out to be my sister Josephine. She however, stood with a troubled and glum look as the beat of my heart slowly began to speed up.

I thought to myself, “Why does she have a depressed look on her face?” Josephine then looked at me with the eyes of a sloth. “What brings you hear with sadness my sister?” I said. As Josephine talked, I saw my husband’s acquaintance, Richards, standing by her. “Your….husband…Is….Dead.” she muttered hesitantly. Upon hearing this, I instantly wept into the arms of my sister. Slowly, but surely, I eventually calmed down. As I wiped my tears, I requested to be alone in my quarters. I dispiritedly trotted back up the stairs to my room with my heart beating in sync with my emotions.

I entered my quarters and immediately sat down on my armchair. The chair was very comfortable, as if it was drawing me deeper into its comfort; it felt like a seat of a royal horse drawn carriage. It felt like I was being brought more into the chair. This news I just received only recently, shocked me. The warmth of the chair was soothing and calming not only for my mind, but the beat of my heart.

The scenery was peaceful, the paragon of the spring season. Trees were blooming with new life while the spring rain was pleasurably redolent of that familiar scent. It was quiet here. So quiet, that I could faintly hear the sound someone singing from a distance and the sparrows chirping outside my window. I looked up; there was a serene blue sky filled with clouds that often collide with other incoming clouds to form larger clouds. At this point, my heart had settled down and I was calmed.

I was almost motionless; I shook periodically due to my sobbing. I felt like a sleeping newborn after crying for so long ; however, I felt calm. I exhausted all the stresses that broke me down. I looked away from the clouds thinking to myself, “If my husband is gone doesn’t this mean I’m free to do whatever I please?” Once again, the beat of my heart slowly started to accelerate.

I immediately rose up and fell in the course of that action. “I’m now free.” I thought to myself. I stared at my hands and whispered, “Free, free, free!” I then wept again; however, this feeling was different. “Am I actually happy?” I wondered. After so many years of being confined by this one man, I had finally been released from my chains. I glanced at the sky and spread my arms wide open in happiness. I welcomed the face of freedom into soul. My heart pounded against my chest in such a way that warmed and relaxed every inch of my body.

I acknowledged would be alone. Nobody would be able to hold me back from doing as I please. There wouldn’t be any strength in the world to chain me down and my actions. It felt like a crime to even think about something so distant. My eyes were opened with a flame that would ignite the path to the world I was about to enter. I began to look into my future as my heart raced with the excitement of a child.

I entered a world in I created. It was the utopia I have endlessly been dreaming about for such a long time. A world with no limits and burdens. It was the ideal world I wished for. I tranquilly walked around the empty house with my husband out of my sight. I then raced outside to be greeted by the nature of spring without restrictions to my autonomy. I leaped into the meadow where bright flowers surrounded me as the sparrows continue to chirp. I looked up to the clear blue sky that yielded a more definitive hue of blue than the ocean that surrounds the lands we walk on and thought, “this is what true freedom looks like.” I slowly closed my eyes and snapped back to reality. My world, the real world, and now the beat of my heart now resonated as they begin to fuse.

I then heard the voice of Josephine behind the door. “Louis, open the door!” she stammered. “I beg; open the door! You’ll make yourself ill. What are you doing Louise? For heavens sake open the door!” “Go away. I am not making myself ill” I calmly told her. I was consumed by mu dream of the utopia I longed for. “Free! Body and soul free!” I murmured repeatedly. Spring days, Summer days, Fall nights, Winter nights. All of those would be mine. I help possession of my future days and nobody else had any authority over that. I prayed for a long life, which was something that I never could’ve hoped for in the past. With that prayer, my heart continued its acceleration.

I now stood up and proceeded to open the door where my sister was kneeling behind. I looked at her with the eyes of a soldier who came back from a victorious battle. I treaded towards her and clasped my sister’s waste. With that, we proceeded to go back down the stairs. Freedom was the only thing on my mind. My heart raced faster than a Kentucky Saddler. The sight of Richards waiting for us at the bottom was the finish line. My heart raced faster and faster wanting to reach the line.

As we went down step by step, I heard the sound of a door opening. I look towards the source of the sound was coming from and I see the front door slowly open. A bright light quickly entered into the room through the door and slightly blinded my vision. I closed my eyes and opened them again only to see the brightness slowly fading away. There was a shadowy figure standing in front of me. “Don’t tell me what I think it is.” I screamed in my mind, “No no no no! My freedom! I felt the chains slowly come back for me and my heart raced even faster. My sense joy now turned into fear and confusion. As the shadowy figure came closer into visibiliy, my heart felt different. I felt weak and I begin to drop down, carrying my sister along with me. I heard a piercing scream that also brought my heart to a sudden stop. My eyes began to slowly close shut at the image of my husband, Brently Mallard. It was the joy that kills.

RIOTUS

Riotus (The Yellow Wallpaper/Page 60/Paragraph 4)
adjective
Pronunciation: Rye-Eh-Tus

-Of a group of people: behaving in a violent and uncontrolled way.
-Marked by or involving public disorder.
-Having a vivid, varied appearance.

Context: “Out of one window I can see the garden, those mysterious deepshaded arbors, the riotous old-fashioned flowers, and bushes and gnarly trees.

Source(s): -http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/riotous
-https://www.google.com/#q=riotous+definition

“THE YELLOW WALLPAPER” AND “THE COTTAGETTE”

“The Yellow Wallpaper” and “The Cottagette” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman are stories you can say are the opposites of each other. One is set in a Utopia and the other in a Dystopia. In other words, one is positive and the other is negative. “The Cottagette” is more of a Utopian story due to the relaxed feeling you get from listening to the narrator’s happy lifestyle/point of view. “The Yellow Wallpaper” on the other hand is more Dystopian and involves a much more darker stance. This story is covered with emotions and the depressing life the narrator is living. The question however is what defines the two stories as a Utopian/Dystopian story. The answer to that is in the setting.

Let’s start off with the more depressing story. “The Yellow Wallpaper” shows clear signs of a setting that involves depression. One main setting feature that defines how the story is more negative is right in the beginning of the story. “A colonial mansion, a hereditary estate, I would say a haunted house….” Judging from this one sentence, you already know things aren’t gonna look good. The scenery also shows darkness. Examples include the broken greenhouses and the lack of renovations in the house. Scent also is an attribute of setting. Within the mansion, lies a scent that “creeps all over the house.” Along with that scent, the weather is terrible with fog and rain that lasted the whole week. Pretty much my point here is the setting of this story is similar to something you will see in a scary movie.

Now let’s move to something more happier. “The Cottagette” is the opposite of “The Yellow Wallpaper” and is definitely for a fact much more pleasant and happier. Happiness is written all over this story. Anyways, the setting of this story is as the title says. We have here a cottage that is “far too small for a house, too pretty for a hut, too unusual for a cottage.” It may be unusual but hey, at least she likes it as seen when Malda says “”The Cottagette” I loved unreservedly.” as she listens to the music playing. The cottage was also “Little and new and clean, smelling only of its fresh-planed boards–they hadn’t even stained it.” Speaking of music, the musical scenery I would say plays a major role in the story because it adds more joyful thrill and enlightenment.

In the end, it’s obvious to say that these two stories are complete opposites. One is positive and the other is negative. One is dark and the other is light. The setting between the two stories define the differences between them. The main point is, the setting in “The Yellow Wallpaper” is something you’ll find in a scary movie, and the setting in “The Cottagette” is more something you’ll find in a happy romance.

POWWOW

Powwow (Young Goodman Brown/Paragraphs (43, 52, 56)
noun
Pronunciation: Pau – Wau

-A social gathering of Native Americans that usually includes dancing.
-A meeting for people to discuss something.
-A Native American Priest/Medicine Man.

Context:
-Paragraph 43: They tell me that some of our community are to be here from Falmouth and beyond, and others from Connecticut and Rhode Island; besides several of the Indian powwows….
-Paragraph 52: Come witch, come wizard, come Indian powwow….
-Paragraph 56: Scattered, also, among their pale-faced enemies, were the Indian priests, or powwows….

Source: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/powwow

“THE METAMORPHOSIS” (RESPONSE BLOG)

“The Metamorphosis” by Franz Kafka was a very interesting read. To me as a reader, it stood out big time because of how surreal it feels when you read it. The way Kafka wrote also used added to the surrealism. One example being the injury Gregor sustained. I could picture those apples and the apple that remained lodged in his flesh as “a visible reminder of his injury.” The struggles he had as a bug can also be pictured. He wasn’t human anymore so of course there would be massive change one main part being his image and feelings from family/loved ones.

It’s sad to see family turn against you. He was “useless” to them and he brought a burden with his transformation. With his presence as a bug, he couldn’t provide for his family and no profit could come with him there. Pretty much, it added greater struggle to the household and frustrated everyone. He morphed from being the carry of the household, to an outcast ignored by his family. What’s also messed up is the fact that his death wasn’t really noticed or mourned. His family just let it go can acted like Gregor never existed even if he was the reason the family was still living under a roof and eating.

“The Metamorphosis” by Franz Kafka was indeed a very interesting read. It was a nightmare at its finest. It’s something that I’d be afraid of. Losing your humanity and the love from your family. Now that’s terrifying. The word kafkaesque is defined as the nightmarish writing style of Kafka. Reading this story did in fact feel like a nightmare which is why it stood out to me. Realism in Fiction is something I like and this story brought it to me. It also brought something I fear and that is to be turned against by the people you are really close to. Luckily the chances of that happening are low but it’s still something to fear. I now just hope reading this doesn’t bring me a similar nightmare.

 

 

CUPOLA

Cupola  (A Rose for Emily/Section 1/Paragraph 2/Sentence 1)
noun
Pronunciation: cu (Q)- po(Poh) -la (Lah)

-A rounded roof or part of a roof
-A small structure that is built on top of a roof.

Context: “It was a big, squarish frame house that had once been white, decorated with cupolas and spires and scrolled balconies…”

Source: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/cupola

CupolaExample of a Cupola

Image Source: http://www.custombarnbuilding.com/project-gallery/components/cupolas/

A Rose for Emily

A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner tells the story of Miss Emily, before and after her death. At first I was confused how the story was being told because 1) I was reading in a noisy environment and 2) It sounded to me that they were going straight into her past life without a clear transition. But that’s just me. Anyways, this story is divided into 5 sections in which the first takes place in Miss Emily’s funeral. I liked the imagery of the house because it makes us feel as  readers, like we’re in there. Moving on forward, Miss Emily was known as the person who never went outside. She was pretty much a hermit. The reason being is that her father died and she probably doesn’t have anything to look up to anymore thus making her lock herself at home. However, Miss Emily didn’t want to accept that and went on with life with the thought of her father still being alive. Although she knew he was dead, she didn’t want to accept it which makes us think that she is “coo-coo” . This idea foreshadows later on because it was said that she suffered from an illness. Further in the story, she meets the soon to be popular, Homer Barron in which is the start of some form of love. However, she is later seen buying arsenic. Now this part showed some interest to me because it had a mystery feel to it. “Why is she buying poison?” ” What is she thinking?” “Who or what is she planning to use it on?” And the big question, “Is she going to kill herself?” Eventually, Homer and Miss Emily go off without word and it was assumed that they got hitched. Skipping the aging section of Miss Emily, after her death, Homer was found decayed on the bed of Miss Emily’s home with a lock of her gray hair thus ending the story.

To me, the story was pretty interesting. It kept me thinking even with background noise. As I mentioned earlier, questions came up especially during the poison purchase. “Why is she buying poison?” ” What is she thinking?” “Who or what is she planning to use it on?” I think now my questions have been answered and I think that she used the poison to kill Homer Barron. I can relate this story to “A Jury of Her Peers” by Susan Glaspell because the outcomes of each story were very similar or assumingly very similar (If she really did kill Homer). One thing I forgot to mention was that Homer brought nothing but trouble to Miss Emily because he was a reason why people looked down on her. So like “Jury of Her Peers”, the Homer/Emily relationship wasn’t too healthy leading to one spouse killing another.

 

Response to “The Story of an Hour” / “Jury of Her Peers”

Kate Chopin’s, “The Story of an Hour” (1894) is about the reaction of a wife who is informed of a train accident that her husband supposedly died from. Mrs. Mallard, the protagonist of the story is informed of the news and like any typical wife would do, she burst into tears. The question is, is she crying in sorrow or crying in joy. It was revealed on the second page that she “loved him sometimes. Often she had not” which implies that she really didn’t love him at all. Mrs. Mallard appears to be in a different world at this point, staring blankly into the blue sky thinking about how things would be without him. Blood was warming her up as she recited “free, free, free!” In other words, she was really relieved the incident happened and knowing that her husband is gone, she is able to break free from the constraints her husband placed on her. However in the end, that vision of freedom was short lived. Upon the arrival of Mr.Mallard who was clueless of the accident, Mrs. Mallard’s joy fired back at her causing her to die from a heart attack which was “the joy that kills”.

Susan Glaspell’s, “A Jury of Her Peers” (1882), in a short summary is about an incident relating to the death of Mr. Wright and how Mrs. Wright can possibly be connected to it. Pretty much, Mrs. Wright wasn’t all that fond of her marriage. There was lots of evidence of a problem in their relationship. The investigators of the case, the Hales and the Peters were the ones who noticed signs of abuse and distress against Mrs. Wright. Based on the evidence found, it was concluded that  Mrs. Wright did in fact killed her husband.

Both stories were made in the same timeline and can be related to how things are handled in this timeline. To be honest, in both stories, I think anyone can understand why each wife would think of their husbands that way. If the relationship goes to the point where one spouse resents the other, I think anyone would feel that way. This is why both stories can be related to how things are handled now. Setting in both stories play an important role because it pretty much brings us, the reader into the story. From “The Story of an Hour”, we are brought into the scenery and we can imagine how things look like. From “A Jury of Her Peers”, we are brought into the crime scene and we can picture how things appeared. In the end, I guess these examples are the other end results of an unhealthy relationship.

Gamer at Home, Future Engineer Outside.

Hey guys my name is Alexander or you can call me Alex for short. I’m coming here from that disappointing Super Bowl 49 outcome. Yes I wanted the Seahawks to win and no, I’m not a bandwagoner. I just don’t like the Pats #NewYorkPride. Anyways I’m just an 18 year old college student in the second semester of my first year studying hard to become a Computer Hardware Engineer.

As the title of this post says, yes I’m a gamer. I was raised around gaming. Whether it was my uncle or my former neighbors, there was access to video games almost anywhere I went. Good thing is, I was addicted but not addicted enough to let games get in the way of my education. So I guess you can say I’m one of those dudes who can play all they want yet get good grades. To this day I still like to play (at least when I’m free). My favorite games to play currently are Smite, Dota 2, and some First Person Shooters like Call of Duty and Battlefield.

Aside from gaming, yes I have a life. Lots of it is poured into school but other parts are put into family and friends. I’m the first child out of 3 and the only male sibling sadly but it’s cool. My hobbies other than playing games consist of hanging out or “chilling” with friends, playing and watching sports like Baseball, Basketball and Football, and my personal favorite, Driving (if you do consider that a hobby).

Bringing back the title of this post, I mentioned Future Engineer Outside. What do I mean by that? As I said before, my goal in life is to become a Computer Hardware Engineer. I’m currently enrolled in the Computer Engineering Technology major and right now, everything is pretty interesting. Last semester, I took a Logic and Problem Solving class, in other words, programming. To be honest, programming is pretty fun too but my interests are more towards the Hardware side and hands on with tools type of work.

The sum things up, that’s pretty much the basics about me. I hope you who read this learn something about me. Looking forward to working with you all this semester. As I used to say in my Youtuber days, “Have a good day, good night, whenever, wherever you are, PEACE!”