Fun Loving?

  I am as fun loving as a puppy. Although, I always put work before play and bills before spending, I love to have fun. There's no point in getting up every morning if  your just going to have a boring and depressing day.
  Having fun is alot easier in my opion if your easy going. For example, I just started my second job yesterday and because I was more easy going than anything else I fit right in to my new job surrounding. Although, everyone had a different style (some by quiet a bit) and a large age range I got along with everyone. Which in turn made my work day alot more fun.
  Another thing that helps people to have more fun just about anywhere would be not caring what people think. After all you can't please everyone so you minus well please yourself. If your constantly trying to fit in or be what people want you to be your not going to have any fun. Odds are people won't like you very much either because you'll come off as fake. So, instead of having a rather easy going relationship you'll be getting into arguements or fights.
  Money should never be needed to have fun. If you think that's the only way a person can have fun I truly feel sorry for you. Friends should get along so well that they can just sit there and talk and still have a good time. Or maybe do crazy thing that will entertain them. Of course, it's always nice to be able to go out but if you rely on money to have fun you'll always be broke and odds are that person isn't always going to be there for you. What would you even do if you ran out of money? You'd hit a wall that's what. Besides it's always more memorable if you do things that are free. Life shouldn't be about the breathe you take but instead about the moments that take your breath away. :)
  I know I probably don't seem very fun loving because I like an adult put first things first. That helps me to relax a little more though, because I know everything is taken care of. You may agree with some of my points like being easy going helps or even disagree. You're free to think I'm wrong and I could care less. This is just in my opion what causes fun to happen easier... When you're having fun or just being happy in general you're more likey to have those moments that take your breath away.So in turn I believe myself to be a rather fun loving person kind of like a puppy. Although, unlike a puppy I know there's a time and place for everything.
 
 

World Devistation

 What would you do if you were the last person on Earth? End yourself and make the pain go away or keep fighting for every breath? Would you lower yourself to eating what is left on the carcases because you don't know when you'll see food again.
 If we got bombed and there was almost no one left, people would be left fighting for power. There would be no government or laws to keep people from doing hellish things. Instead you have to use your brain and bronze to fight and everyday battle of life.
 So many people say that they believe in world devastation, but do nothing about its so called upcoming approach. I've heard many of my friends say that they would want to be one of the last people to survive. Just them and the people they care about. I think this would be torturing yourself and them. (Granted I don't believe in 2012 or any thing that has to do with doomsday.) If nearly everyone was wiped out and you were left to fight for yourself and stay warm helping those around you and running or even hiding from others you would fear reality more than your dreams or any movie you've seen.
 How would you get food? Raid the stores maybe. Uh no! Stores would be raided in the first couple of years, and so would houses. How would you even carry it around as you look for more? You sure can't carry very much and carts soon grow old.
 Not to mention the freezing cold. Blankets would be needed and still you wouldn't be warm in many northern places.Your clothes would quickly grow worn and so would your shoes. By the end of a couple years you'd hope for a plastic bag to keep your feet dry from rain.
 Don't get me wrong I'm not making fun of anyone who does believe in the "foreseen" devastation, but some people truly need to think a bit more when they say that they would want to be the last ones. Why would you want to be the last of so many and have absolutely nothing left except for each other? I mean sure it's nice to get away with someone you love, but being their only reason to live would take a toll on you. The weather, lack of food, or even bathing, and warmth would drive you to your end.
 Sure you'd still have dreams. But can you honestly say you'd force yourself to wake if you were dreaming of something so good you can't get your hands on anymore? I know I can't so I would probably pass away.
 Feel free to put your own input on the topic into the comments. I'd love to see someone try to prove me wrong. Or maybe I failed to mention something you think I should have put in. Either way I'd really like to see what people think of this subject, and my view on it.

The Avenger

This wasn’t originally meant to get published. Rather it is my life story that is made mandatory by the court as a part of therapy. My name is Devin. I have had a rather messed up life, and the only way my therapist sees me moving past it is by telling my story and then overcoming it.

When I was a little girl, only about seven years old, my mom was murdered. The guy who murdered her didn’t see my standing in the bloody doorway watching as he delivered the final blow. I was going to scream but was so scared that no sound came out. I then ran to my room and hid. I don’t really remember how long I was under my bed. It seemed like hours, and by time the cops came I was so shaken that they had to have two female officers talk me into coming out.

That night my dad had been away on a business trip, and my mom asked me to lock up. I told her I would like I had so many times before when she was sick and my dad was away. It was MY fault that my mom had gotten murdered. I still live with this guilt and I hope to God that one day I can get over it, but I will never forget her.

My dad came home late that night, but he thought it would be to traumatic for me to go back to the neighbor hood so we went and stayed in the nicest hotel he could afford. I could care less about that at the moment I just wanted my mom back. My dad tried to get me to smile but it was useless. I went to bed shortly after we got there and refused to eat.  I didn’t stay asleep long, because as soon as I fell asleep I began to have a nightmare.

Only it wasn’t truly a nightmare. It was more like reliving. All the sudden I could see my mom getting murdered all over again. I woke up screaming in a cold sweat, and my dad tried desperately to comfort me. It was no use. I would relive this dream for years to come, but as time passes the face slowly begins to blur. By the time I turn fourteen I can’t even recall the slightest bit of what my mother’s killer had looked like.

My dad and I moved into a large house with top of the line security along the beach in California. I made it a routine to take a midnight swim every night. Without it I would just wake up in a cold sweat before I had my eyes closed for even a half hour. I guess swimming was comforting to me because my mother and I had always gone for swims while my dad was gone.

One night while my dad was upstairs sleeping I decided to sneak out for a second swim and try not to wake him. There was no way I was going to be sleeping tonight. Something was making my horrible nightmare of reliving strong and persistent. When I got down to the beach I stripped down to my normal swim wear, or at least what I wear when I go midnight swimming. I was out in the water for about two or three hours and when I finally decided to start headed to the house because I knew my dad would wake soon to check on me, I snagged my foot in what I thought was seaweed. I only wish I could have been right.

Of course I wasn’t. I found out the reason that I was having such a horrible time trying to sleep that night. What I snagged my toe in was some girl’s long brunette hair. She wasn’t alive, infact she had been dead for some time and her body finally made it close to the shore. Why did I have to find her??!! I screamed and my dad came running. He had his cell phone and when he saw the reason for my pale face he instantly called the cops to inform them. We waited by the girls dead body, but I just couldn’t get past the markings on her body.

(This is continued in my own paper.)