Written on Dec, 21, 2016
by ZiyanaK
What do these texts suggest about an individual’s response to the constraints of convention or circumstance? (Polished Personal) Creative Response to “Diary of a Piano-Tuner’s Wife” with connections based off ideas of rebellion and the imagery of gardening. Theme Statement: When individuals who have…
Written on Dec, 04, 2016
by ZiyanaK
I have four fatal flaws; four which I must embrace; four which I must accept; four which I must experience my life through. I have four fatal flaws; four which I must apologise for; four which I must shed for better attributes; four…
Written on Nov, 13, 2016
by ZiyanaK
My sea is layered and lively, a collection of every part of me and unrestrained in the candor of its being. My sea is me. Their sea is surface and simple, a fraction of the truth and limited to what they are able…
Written on Oct, 27, 2016
by ZiyanaK
My sky was meant to be painted in the raw spectrum of the rainbow, where every color jumped in vibrant exclamations of wanting to be great. Every hue in my sky was meant to be lurid and glaring, flaming in its brilliance, thriving…
Written on Oct, 15, 2016
by ZiyanaK
Women in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein play apparently disposable roles that are founded in a docile pliability. Females appear to be one-dimensionally portrayed as possessable and passive supports for the actions of the more prominently capable men. However, Shelley portrays them this way in…
Written on Oct, 07, 2016
by ZiyanaK
Discuss the idea(s) developed by the text creator in your chosen text about the significance of idealism and truth in an individual’s life. (Polished Critical) Aspiring to our ideals is instinctual. Idealism – the forming and pursuing of conceptually perfect desires – is…
Written on Sep, 11, 2016
by ZiyanaK
By the hand of my phantom, I tried to fill the looming void of infinity. This monster was not a figment of my imagination. This monster was a being that lived in the same body as I did. I was guided by this…
Written on Aug, 31, 2016
by ZiyanaK
I am tired. In the spaces between my heartbeats I find moments of silence anchored by shadows to the breath of every dawn, but this is before the daytime expels sunrise’s misty serenity and thrusts me into a place where people use my…
Written on Mar, 17, 2016
by ZiyanaK
Dear Human, My eyes, once bright like shiny new pennies, aglow with the promise of laughter and playtime, have dulled in the wake of dust and forgotten memories binding my wavering faith like manacles, pinning me- helpless- to your shelf. Unable…
Written on Feb, 16, 2016
by ZiyanaK
As if slowly pulled upright by the eerie beckons of marionette strings at the hands of a puppet master, I was dragged from dark, fitful sleep into the realm of consciousness. It was as if I had just walked through a sheet of…
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