The Man who planted Trees and What is a good life?
The Man Who Planted Trees
When first reading this story, I found it interesting to say the least. It took me by surprise that something with so much depth and feeling was given to a bunch of 7th graders who didn't really care about a man who planted a bunch of trees. But I guess I underestimated myself and the class, cause some people really took this story to heart.
I think I had two problems with this book.
1. Since I haven't took French for a year now, I didn't know how to pronounce most of the names of the places and the name Elzeard Bouffier.
2. Way too short.
But apart from that I thought the story was really good and kind of funny in some ways.
Ok, now time for the question What is a good life? Well after lots of thought while watching episoides of Scrubs I came up with this conclusion.
To have a good life, you must change someone else's. You have to change their point of view, or even change the worlds point of view. Like a doctor, might not think so but they have had a good life because the have saved many lives and changed many peoples' lives in the process.
So thats what I think....
What have I done good in this year..
Um..well I don't know
I guess I did good in the watching the movie part of class.
That was fun!!!
But I guess thats not what you people want to hear.
I guess I don't like evaluating myself.
It makes me look....like I think I am sooo good at all these things.
Which I know I am not.
I guess I did good in like some of the reading. When I was reading out loud anyway. But compared to some people(like Angela) I look terrible.
And the writing part I did ok. But not great. I guess I never found any writing subject....worth writing about.
It was all forced. And my writing is bad when it is forced.
The speaking part I sucked at. I hate doing that type of thing.It makes me nervous and uneasy. And my speech was never the best since people like Angela, Tsai Ling , Hao yu and Cinthy are like so good at that type of thing.
I am bad at the blogging part, and writing the reading journal...that sucks.
I wish schools didn't have this system...kids hate it.
The independent reading was ok since I love books so I found that easy.
Um...what else do I have to write????
Oh yeah, I think I'm more organized now.
I don't know what bad habits still remain..there is like millions
Ok, the best things about English...
I guess like how literture can be just a bunch of words but put forward so much emotions
God,I sound like such a nerd=S
Well thats what I think anyway...
So I'm done.
Bad exam experience
Well the exams are over, the tests handed in and the desk back in their classroom,but I still want to telll a story about how some teachers(geography and history teachers in pacticuliar) tell students to be quiet but yet do not themselves.
I was sitting there at the start of my row,waiting for a history exam from Mr. Sierman. I was the last to get one(even though I was the first one in the row) and probably the last to start(as i read all the questions first). So I started the first page of the exam, thinking about the question in hand and looked up to see many teachers wandering around like lost children. I then thought of a appropiate answer for the question and started to work.
I was then half way through the exam when my first bad experience happened. I was writing quickly when from the corner of my eyes I saw a teacher leaning on the wall beside me. Then suddenly another teacher appeared. And they started whispering.Very loudly. I looked up to see how much more time I would have to live with this terrible annoyance.Oh great,44 more minutes. I tried to get to work again but the annoyance got louder and louder. Finally both teachers went away(after 10 minutes of talking and distrubing me) and left me to ifnish my exam in peace.
I had finally got to the last question of the exam, when another teacher leaned against the wall. He had nobody to talk to which made me pleased and again began to think about the final question. Then another teaher-who seemed very nice and would not try and disturb students-went up to him and started chatting.Just small talk, and other but that was not the point. Mr. Brown had just said "Please do not talk while taking the exam". I know that teachers could talk but not at that volume, especially when a student is trying to do her test. I looked to see if I could chat there eye and show them my annoyance,but no such luck. Then the man who had just said for everyone to be quiet, came up and spoke, even louder than the other teachers. I blocked them out for a whole 5 minutes and finished the exam paper.
After the exam was over, and we were waiting to go, Mr. Sierman went up to me,put something on my desk and said "From me to you." then walked off. I looked at my desk and found that he had gave me one jiao. I looked at it for awhile then put it in my pocket, thinking that this made up for some of the stuff that had annoyed me. I just wish he had gave something to the guy sitting behind me, cause he could hear the teachers louder than I could.
Ok, so thats my story. Hope you liked it. Oh, good luck everyone on getting their results, I think we will all do well(at least at English)
Seeing a person's face, especially one so beautiful and so easy to remember .There are many disadvantages to this though. Like if you are a murderer and the witness only saw your tattoo, but it was such a vivid tattoo with bright colors, that when that witness was asked to tell who he or she thought was the murderer that person would say it was you, because of that tattoo on your arm. The problem in this case is there was only one witness, and that was the murderer himself.
Worry spread on Zac's face as he looked into the mirror, staring back at himself, thinking of all the possibilities that his dream had not came true. He had not yet stepped outside his room to survey the damage he had done. ‘To much blood and worry' he thought, while thinking of ways to escape. If the police cam they would say it was him, even with no evidence. There were not many options though. ‘God I wish I had more friends'. Then it hit him like a knife to his heart. ‘Mia, she will help me! No one will ever know that his only friend had taken in a murderer.' Then he packed up all his belongings and went to the Lee's house to beg for a place to stay.
There was no funeral for Harold J. Trapp. It might have been because Sara's funeral was just before and Zac's mum couldn't handle it. But Zac thought it was because no one would come. Everyone hated his dad as, he was a low life, a ugly stupid ape that made you vomit just looking at him. But that was Zacs opinion. Zac had better things to think about. Like the dream he had had, the night his father was murdered. It was the most peculiar dream he had ever had and Zac kept on wondering whether his dream had something to do with his father's death. But Zac wasn't that kind of kid anymore. He had changed alot. More than he wanted to think about. I guess when murdering someone when you are only thirteen years old, you don't want to talk about it.
Zac was lying on his bed, when he drifted off. But as he did so another disturbing dream entered his head.
A strange figure entered the kitchen grabbing a chopping knife. He could see a woman crying. The woman turned around smiling through her tears. The stranger smiled, and with one gab of the knife the crying woman was on the floor drenched in her own beautiful blood. The stranger felt happy again, he had killed someone who deserved it. "Finally," he thought. "She is finally dead". And as he turned away the only face that could be seen was covered in blood. The only feature you could see was the strangers bright green eyes.