Mi Rutina Diaria Unit 4
¿Comó es mi rutina diaria?
In life there is pain, there is hope and love, and there is defeat, there is hate, and there is death. There is also irony. It was ironic how the bullet that I fired at myself, the one that was supposed to kill me, the one that very easily could have been directed at a zombie, or at Nicole, it didn’t go off. the irony was most things getting shot at would hope that the bullet did not go off, but I was hopping the opposite. Chris found me, and his sister. When he found me I was still shooting the gun in my hand. It was making a clicking noise, but no mater how many times I pulled the trigger it would not go off. I guess part of the reason that I didn’t just cock the gun back and try at it with a different round was because of my shock. I was not thinking I was just doing.
Now I was alone, sitting in an isolated part of the bjs store that was now as far as we knew 100% secure. I was still in shock. Chris took it hard too, he took the gun away from me and gave it to Jacob. Neither me or Chris were in any condition to be carrying a gun. I was quietly thinking to my self about how I basically killed myself, sure I lived but that’s not what I wanted. I pulled the trigger, and in some other world that bullet went off, and I was dead. I was thinking now at an unhealthy level. About death and about the world, about god and my faith, if that’s what you wanted to call it. The room was dark, and I didn’t know what time it was, nor did I pretend to care. It had to be sometime in the early ams before the sun came up. I was not crying, and my eyes were dry, no I was beyond crying, I didn’t exist. That’s the best way to describe the feeling. I was not there. Sure my body was, but my mind was absent, there was nothing. I stared at the wall blankly.
Chris opened the door to the storage closet that I had got into. The light hurt my eyes. He walked over as the door shut behind him and sat down next to me without saying anything. For a time we just sat there, and really I didn’t even notice Chris. I mean I knew he was there, but I did not take note, it was as if I knew but I didn’t. its such a hard feeling to explain, simply because there is nothing there. I was feeling nothingness. “ I don’t blame you” words that broke into the nothingness and it became something. A phrase that came into my thoughts. I sat and thought about it. “when your ready to come out…were all waiting for you…” he got up and left. Again the nothingness came on, but this nothing had something in it. The words that right now seemed empty. At least I had something in my mind. Something that still felt like nothing. I don’t blame you I thought, my thoughts were answered by a voice that was deep inside me
“but you’re the one who shot her, you had the gun, you let her go first” the voice said, it sounded shaky. I sat there and a tear finally came to my eye as feelings started to come back into my numb mind. I sat there and cried
However, that senior swagger is usually aligned with lackadaisical attitudes and pure entitlement – some might call it “senioritis”— and it was that attitude that dismissed most seniors from attending mandatory practices and team workouts. That, and the fact that most of the seniors lacked the knowledge of the basic fundamentals of the game, and had never played baseball for an organized team, generally didn’t make them suitable captains.
That’s where I came in. Although I didn’t have the title as team captain, I had played baseball since I was six and I was eager to help lead my team to the success that I knew we were capable of. I was often put in charge of team workouts and spent most of my time instructing the less experienced players on the precise technique for fielding baseballs and getting more power behind their swings. We didn’t start truly playing together as a team until the end of the season, and although the team ended 4-6, a disappointing record by anyone’s standards, we showed improvement from the previous years, and I’m excited for next season.
This is sort of proof that you don’t have to have a title to make a difference. True leaders can inspire people to perform to their potential by simply putting forth their best effort, and leading by example. I was an effective leader because I never assumed I was better than any of them. Unlike my senior counterparts, I never thought I was too good for practice, and once I was able to gain their respect, I noticed a much more responsive attitude from most of the kids, that allowed us to play together as a team.
Marker; *Squeak. Annoyed. Squeak, teeth hurt.
Yours. Mine. Whats mine is ours.
Economy Politics, war? Welcome to America.
Running towards no where.. Finally stopped.
Stove, curtain, fire., crying , lost, gone.
Born 1962; cause of death: Himself
Knock, knock..(eyes roll) Hate Jokes.
To live without love is living.