I have been rereading The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie. In this book, an Indian boy named Junior lives on a reservation, the Spokane Rez. In it are his tales of woe, and how he gets by. His family doesn't have much money, they're dirt poor. He describes it as his parents parents were poor and their parents were poor and on and on until the beginning of poor people.

Junior loves to draw. He doodle all the time, and it's basically how he gets by. He claims that pictures show more than words, since everyone understands a picture no matter what language they speak. If you draw a flower, people will think "flower" in whatever language they speak, unless your flower was really crappy.

What do you like to do, to pass by time, to get through crappy stuff that may happen?
I love to draw too, even though I'm not the best at it. I mostly just doodle and all. Then, people sing or dance. I think dancing is a great way of expressing yourself, well, I guess any form of art is, even drama.

Do you know anyone who has "mental issues"? Well, if you read this book you will. (Dang, I sound like I'm promoting it. Is that what I'm supposed to do, anyway...?) Junior was born with "water on the brain" so the doctors had to cut open his skull and remove it. Scary, huh? He goes on about how in 3rd grade he was a size 11 in shoe size, he lisps and stutters, has a huge head, and how he gets beat up all the time. This made me feel so bad for him, and his parents. I know this sounds mean, maybe, but it must be really hard to raise a child who is so sick, especially if you haven't any money.

This book reminds me of this of Jeanne Wakatsuki's Farewell to Manzanar. In both stories, the families are poor and live in a reservation. However, Farewell to Manzanar is a true story; Jeanne Wakatsuki is the daughter of Japanese parents, and they are suddenly forced into the Manzanar reservation when Pearl Harbor is attacked, simply because they are Japanese. I can't imagine being in a situation like that, can you?

So it's not like The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is true...? I wonder, is The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian actually a true story, or what? It's really confusing to me since it says it is but... Yeah. What do you think...?

Love & Rockets, Reed.

Cruelty

What do you think about fate? Faith?
Do you believe in luck? Good or bad?
Do you think that if something bad happens to someone that it's their fault? That they caused their own misery?

You may be thinking it depends on the situation, and of course, I agree. If you do something bad, then something bad may happen to you. I believe this is called karma? Especially if you hurt someone, they may unintentionally, or purposely, get back at you. Like Law and Order SVU's season finale yesterday. (DID Y'ALL WATCH IT??) I think fate controls the world, just like faith. Faith is too much. People fight over and about it, and my theory is that everyone is wrong- or at least, not right. I think believing in what you believe is fine but you shouldn't talk about it and fight over it, that's just lame. And luck? Well, I'm not sure if I believe in luck or not. But ask yourself these questions.

Now, about the book I've been reading, Chanda's Secrets. There are many issues that come up in this book. Of course, you've heard that before, but it's not like simple, easy - to - solve problems like... Love stories or whatever. Chanda is 16, and her mother has been married 4 times. Chanda's father blew up in a mine, and her current step father is an alcoholic. And she suspects she and her mother have AIDS. In where she lives, Africa, everyone shuns those with AIDS, as well as their friends and family, because they have it, thinking they're bad people and such. But isn't there a saying "Bad things happen to good people" or "Good people die young"? I suppose these don't apply to this book... Which is sort of sad, because now, it's sort of like either way bad things happen to you, good or bad...

What do you think?

Comparing Two Similar Yet Far Worlds

In Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare, both children are not close to their parents. Romeo hasn't even got a relationship with his parents, and it seems like they completely neglect him since there is no conversation between them in the play. Even at the beginning, Montague leaves Benvolio to talk with Romeo because he doesn't feel like it. Juliet's parents think they know best for her, and act and think that denying them is like breaking the law.

In Honey Hunt, the main character, Yura, is the daughter of two famous stars, her mother an actress and her father a musician. Yura has never been close to her parents, either.

What both these sets of parents have in common? They are famous. They are well known, rich and stand tall with dignity. They think they're so great, but they really aren't - at least, not to their children. This made me wonder if this is what it is like for children of actors and singers; are they really loved by their parents? Do their parents really care about them? Madonna is a good person, she adopted many children, right? Well, what if they really are neglected? In Honey Hunt, Yura's mother was voted "Best MOther" for actresses, but that really wasn't true. Maybe people really don't know anything unless they walk two moons in another man's moccasins. >Walk Two Moons<

Recently... (ugh I said that to start of my post again......) I have been re-reading, for the 3rd time, Dark Dude by Oscar Hijuelos. I have the advanced reading copy so I'm not sure if it's the same, but I like it anyways. Let me start by defining this term.

"Dark Dude" - n. I. What a male of light skin is derisively called by persons of color. (colloquial, Harlem 1965-1970). 2. A person considered suspect because of his light complexion, especially in criminal circumstances. 3. Someone who is not considered "streetwise". 4. A white person considered not to be "hip". Cf. "Straight." "Uncool." 5. An outsider, particularly in the context of ghetto society.

That's the exact definition from the book. So, basically, it's about a boy from a Cuban family who is, somehow, completely white.

What I like about this book, is that it really seems real. It makes me wonder... If Oscar Hijuelos lived like this? On the back of the book, a quote by him (which, honestly, I think is a little braggy?) is "This is the book I wish I'd read when I was a teen." So then, I looked him up. Oscar Cuban parents... hmmmm *hint hint*...

After seeing a photo of the author (he's white), I can conclude this is based off his life, or that a part of it (which reminds me of Go Ask Alice) is what he made up, sort of a rant on imagination.

Speaking of rant on imagination, that's sometimes what I will do. This ALLLSOOOOO brings me to a practice test I took over spring vacation. Roald Dahl said, in an excerpt on the test, that many of his idea come from dreams. Oooh mysssticaaalll... I don't know why, sometimes I'll just think of something like that. It's how my brain works... Ahem... Anyywayyy...

I've always enjoyed writing, but I really don't like my work. I try and try to be witty and all, but my aura isn't exactly comical. So I have a problem with that. I read my work and I'm like "... Oh CRAP. THIS IS CRAP." Anyway. That's my rant. On imagination. No, not really, but I should have one, shouldn't I? What do y'all like to write about? Is your brain strangely wired so you think one thing and it connects to a memory that has little or no relevance? Hmmmm...?

Lord Of The Flies -One of my lovely spoilers... And lame Titles...-

For about 5 or so days now, I've been reading William Golding's Lord of the Flies. However, or at least, so far in my findings, this book has nothing to do with flies. Perhaps everyone dies and rots and the island the boys landed on becomes infested with maggots, or maybe, because of the cover on the version I have (which has a rather "fat" boy on it) Piggy becomes ruler and everyone dies... or something amazing. (I can infer that because Piggy's glasses break and the spectacles on the cover are cracked as well.)

When I read books, I like to visualize things. If you know me, you probably know I am a very visual person and like to doodle quite a bit too much. However, it annoys me when in movies of the books, I see them and the setting and characters are completely different than what my brilliant imagination created. Anyway, how I imagine the tropical island in Lord Of The Flies is like an island in the Caribbean - Beautiful clear, blue waters and skies, tall green palm trees with coconuts and pineapple, and lovely bright flowers dancing upon the sand.

Thinking of these kinds of places make me have a craving to paint, even though I'm not that good (this is why I must learn InDesign and Photoshop). I think the one downfall to having a great imagination is not being able to share your thoughts.

~Colors~ ALL STARRRR

MAH ORIGINAL VERSION
These are the tips Corinna gave me to help revise my blog post :) (The italics are my responses.)

- Try to answer your questions, or arrange them in a different way. There are a bundle of questions that seem answered, but it feels as if they ... aren't. We want to know your opinion (this can also allow more responses to this blog post)!
When I said people care about my opinion once, a meanie walking by said "No they don't." Anyway, isn't my opinion in heerrrreeee?

- Use more sophisticated manner in your blog post. (EX. "I like colors, though" can be turned into "But personally, I like colors.") There is too much personality, but less main ideas.
Fine. But my personality is like sunshine, you can't live without it :D

- Use comments to help fix some issues? (Hint hint.)
Whatcha mean "hint hint"??? That's what Ms. Yip says...

- Possibly research some topics? Such as racism or color-blindness?
Okiieeesss


Once again, I'm writing a post on The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing. There are so many things I can talk about from this book, but I promise this shall be the last.

This book takes place in the late 1700's. African-Americans were still kept as slaves, and Octavian basically is one. This made me think about the whole racist concept.

In this book, Octavian's professor said that color isn't real, yet an illusion. I disagree with this, but if there is really no such thing as color, why is there racism? Racism is based on the color of one's skin, and if there is no such thing as color, how come there is such thing as racism??

I believe anything visible and something we can touch is real. Mirages aren't... Oh, I just realized that doesn't exactly make colors real... Whatever, I believe in colors. I feel like I'm talking about God! But personally, I like colors [ STOLEN BY CORINNA 8D ]. They make everything more beautiful. What would the world look like without color?

Whenever I see an old photograph or video, I think "Oh my gosh everything was black and white! When did people begin to paint the world?!" Okay, I don't really think that, but I did when I was little. Still nowadays, I imagine everything from [back then] as black and white, not just as a photo, but for REAL. Awkward?

Basically, I can't imagine the world without color. That's like eating an Oreo without dunking it in milk. Everything needs color, colors are beautiful. Darkness is scary. I think Hell would have no colors, everything dark grays or just nothing at all. Just a blank page, me as a drawing in a world of nothing but white, running but never leaving, for drawings cannot move [I'm not talking about animation don't criticize me.]

There's this song I like a lot called Colors ~Melody and Harmony~ . It's about how people give to the world and how lucky people benefit and how they are grateful. I mainly thought of this song because of it's title and I wanted to share it. I like how it says about how we have good things in our life due to things kind and generous people have done. I suppose I can say the Civil War is one of them, so it has something to do with this post.

Also, according to Ms. Corinna's advice, I should look up stuff about color-blindness and racism. Honestly, I think I know enough about racism - it's the thought that controls and idiot's mind that his race or skin color, usually being white, is superior. Which is stupid.

However, I don't know much about colorblindness. That's why I looked it up. >See here for info I looked at about color blindness< Basically, colorblindness is when you can't see a certain color or brightness of a color, or something related to not seeing color. The treatment - unknown. And it's a lifelong condition. Can you imagine not being able to see colors your entire life? The page says those who are colorblind are used to it, but that's hard for me to imagine. I suppose, if I suddenly became colorblind, I would get used to it over time.
I've been thinking ; maybe people who are colorblind aren't the ones that are so "different". If, going back to Octavian's professor, colors aren't really real, maybe colorblind people are the few that are "normal". Maybe those who can see color are the ones who have a strange condition. Perhaps, long ago, all humans saw the world black and white, but there was one monkey (we were monkeys... "Reed, we know that." "SHUDDAP.") who was able to magically see magical things called COLORS. Then, many others got it and then yaayyyyy everyone sees colors, except a few who didn't adapt. Also, most men have color blindness, 1 in 10, but it's more rare for women. (Because the X and Y cells go boom and...)
When I was researching humans on Wikipedia, because I was going to say some other word for "human" that I forgot... both what it was and how to spell... I saw a thin about the oldest performer alive. Who still performs. Well, anyway, I thought that was cool. Then I stopped reading it after it said he spoke fondly of Adolf Hitler. Maybe the guy is getting Alzheimer's finally... Now I'm going to look up the oldest person alive... Oh, a French guy named Jeanne Calment... Ah, a lady... Oh, and maybe this is related to the X Y cell things and how boys have more diseases, etc., but the top ten oldest living people were all women. In the world. But then in 11th place is a guy. Okay. Yeah.

And lastly, my new sign off.

Love and Rockets,
Reed :D

My Weekly Rant :)

I finished Ashes!! Finally! Aaah I feel like I've accomplished something. You know how when you've finished something extreeemeeelyyyyy borrriingggg?? Like this book. Well, towards the end it was pretty cool I guess, but I HATE when books leave you trailing. I don't like when the author leaves with the very end just hanging and they expect your "imagination" to finish the story. I like it better when they finish it and THEN I make up what could of happened. Although I'm pretty creative... I think... I just think that way is easier.

Actually, you know what? I hate the book endings. They just annoy me so much. Maybe I hate books. No, I love books. It just ANNOYS me when a good book is finished, it makes me cry. When I finished The Mysterious Benedict Society and Fruits Basket, for example, I cried. Especially for Fruits Basket... heheheh...

I think, we should make a law. NO MORE ENDING BOOKS. We must keep books going oonnnn and onnnn foreverrrr... Only if they're good books though. Heheh.

Anyway, The end of Ashes was sort of... SAD. Gaby's sister is marrying a Nazi and they're leaving her behind in Berlin by moving to Caputh. HEY HEY HEY I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING. "What? HOW COULD THEY? Terrible people." But Gaby's sister wanted to stay for some reason.

This book made me think about how you could love someone you hate. I mean, Ulla, the sister, loves a Nazi, and her family entirely opposes it. But she can't help but love him. Why? I have no idea. This is what brought me to Romeo and Juliet.

In Romeo and Juliet, Romeo and Juliet are supposed to HATE each other, LOATHE each other, DESPISE each other. But yet, when they actually meet, they somehow love each other instantaneously, like people did in Shakespeare's time, apparently. However, neither of these families are necessarily BAD, they just... don't like each other for some unknown reason. So that's a difference from Ashes, I guess. But then again, it's sort of their fault for causing such a ruckus in town. So I suppose, they are good and bad people?

I've been wondering for a while, is anyone really a good or bad? Everyone has different opinions so maybe there really are no good or bad people. Many people thought Hitler was a good person, for instance, but many think he was terrible, too. What he did was horrible, so was he really a bad person? He was just doing what he, somehow, thought was right.

So are there really good or bad people? Or is it just an illusion of our minds?