Questionable Reading Material

To the Libray Board of Directors:

My name is Brittani Gonzalez. I believe that it would be a crime to remove all the "questionable" books from the library. After all, the entire town is not populated of people under the age of 18.

The minors of today's world have already been exposed to all the dangers and views of the things represented in some of those books. There is violence, sex, drugs, infidelity, and much more "questinable" material on the television and outside of your very own windows. What difference does a couple of books make anyway?

Some of the books you have decided fall under the category that need to be removed from the library are classics. There are those who drink in every word of every book there. Most people are not going to be influenced to copy the things they read. If anything, they'll copy what they see on the television.

To take away books is like taking away someone's secret world, their sanctuary. If we start now, who is to say that we won't stop with those books? If there happen to be books that portray ideas and facts that the town council or government wouldn't want in people's heads in case of a big revolution of some sort, who's to say that those books won't be removed too?

I would even go so far as to say that I believe that removing those books is a direct violation of free speech, freedom of press, and overall the freedom of the things the mind is allowed.

Therefore, I ask you, reconsider this decision. Do not take away the written word of others because of a little bit of questionable material. If it is that important to some parents, I'm sure they could leave a note with the library expressly forbidding their child to check out any books of the sort.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Brittani Gonzalez

untitled

Look through
a stranger's eyes
Feel the tremor
of untold lies
Reach out in pain
to something dear
Break the hold
that keeps you here
Listen close
to screams out loud
Clear your sight
of needless shrouds
Accept the things
left here by fate
Remove all traces
of unkown hate
Be stilled by visions
wretched and mean
Blinded by horrors
unleashed by this scene
Feel the sorrow
wash over your mind
Control the images
you're forced to find

not finished...i haven't figured out how yet though...

My "Favorite" Room

The room closest to being my favorite I would have to say is my bedroom. Probably because it is the one room where I can get away from anyone and everyone...except for maybe Dano. My bedroom has a bed in the corner of the room in between two windows, one of which still has a fan in it. My bed consists of three layers: 2 mattresses, one on top of the other, and a futon on top of that. We have no bed frame, so the double mattress thing we got going on just kind of brings the bed up a bit. The mattresses are always slipping off of eachother though. It gets quite annoying sometimes. Ok it gets annoying all the time. I have a vanity dresser against the wall opposite the wall of the bed. It has two oval mirrors side by side, and a light that really works. There are a set of shelves on each side of the dresser. The very center bottom the dresser has like a coupboard thing going on instead of drawers. It was given to us by a friend of my dude's. They smoke, and they've had it for years, so it smells pretty bad. Or it used to anyway. I have lots of things on top of it. Then against another wall is Dano's dresser. We have a stereo on top of that (that doesn't really work) and a bunch of other things. My floor tends to be covered in my dirty laundry. I actaully have a load that needs to be thrown in now. I'm never in any hurry to clean my room though. I have like 3 blankets on my bed that I love to use every night, and one of my favorite things is to cover up and read my book in bed. I have black lights on my dresser and a crappy alarm clock that takes half an hour to wake me up next to my bed. I have another stand at the foot of my bed with another fan on. Dano is weird like that, but at least I have my blankets. That is basically it about my room. I hope you never get to see it.

Insomniac

Late at night
I can't sleep
It's so hard
But I feel so weak

Lat at night
Crazy wild
Adrenaline rushing
Hush my child

Go to sleep
Close your eyes
Dream of flowers
And blue skies

Monsters chasing
Calling my name
They love their wild
And crazy game

if only, if only....the revised version!

When I was younger, math had always been my favorite subject. It was mainly because I used things I knew to figure out an answer, and there is almost always only one answer to any math problem, so you could only be right or wrong. Math came easy to me in my younger years.

As I got older, though, I started having more and more problems understanding some of the things my math teacher taught us. Every year, the math we learned became more and more complex. It seemed as if simple math was no longer an option. I would learn one thing with trouble, and almost as soon as I finally got it, we would move on to something else. As soon as that happened, I always wished we would go back to what we learned before, because it had finally become easy.

I remember one year, one or two years ago, my teacher, Ms. Bruggeman was teaching us a particularly confusing topic. I don't quite recall which one exactly it was (there were quite a few), but I remembered how frustrated she was every time I asked a question and she had to answer it the same as before.
She would explain the same concept to me several times before I even began to realize the mistakes I was making and why I didn’t understand what I was doing.

Sometimes, though, I became a little too confident too soon. Occasionally when I felt I understood the most recent math concept, I would start on my homework right away, with confidence, thinking I was going to get an A this time. The next day I would turn it in, pumped for her to grade my paper, only to have those hopes shattered the following day when I saw the big "D" or "F" marking my paper in red.

Occasionally I would stay after school, and she would help me to understand. Those were my favorite times in math, because it was always then that I had a breakthrough and knew I understood what was going on, not just thinking I knew. I guess I have always worked better with one-on-one in math class. Math always was my pain in the butt class. It was a nice feeling to turn my paper in, and get it back with an A- at most. I felt as if I had finally learned something. When I did do well, it was one of the coolest feelings, because like I said, I have always liked math, I just don’t understand it so much anymore.

When you finally get it right, it just dawns on you what you're doing wrong, like a big slap on the forehead. I was always like, "Wow! I'm stupid..." I do admit that I will miss Ms. Bruggeman’s after school help. She always eventually got me to understand a crucial point I was missing. It may be a while before I have another slap-in-the-forehead moment. Maybe next time I’m having trouble with math, she won’t mind taking me back under her wing.

If only, if only...

When I was younger, math had always been my favorite subject. It was mainly because I used things I knew to figure out an answer, and there is almost always only one answer to any math problem, so you could only be right or wrong. Math came easy to me in my younger years. As I got older, though, I started having more and more problems understanding some of the things my math teacher taught us. I remember one year one or two years ago, my teacher, Ms. Bruggeman was teaching us a particularly confusing topic. I don't quite recall which one exactly it was (there were quite a few), but I remembered how frustrated she was everytime I asked a question and she had to answer it the same as before. Sometimes I felt I understood, so I would start on my homework right away, with confidence, thinking I was going to get an A this time. The next day I would turn it in, pumped for her to grade my paper, only to have those hopes shattered the following day when I saw the big "D" or "F" marking my paper in red. Occasionally I would stay after school or class, and she would help me to understand. Those were my favorite times in math, because it was always then that I had a breakthrough and knew I understood what was going on, not just thinking I knew. It was a nice feeling to turn my paper in, and get it back with an A- at most. Like, it just dawns on you what you're doing wrong, like a big slap on the forehead. It was always like, "Wow! I'm stupid..." I do admit that I will miss here after school help. It may be a while before I have another slap-in-the-forehead moment.

My Suicide...

You open the door and what do you see?

Bloodied and broken, you know that it's me...

Written in blood, my note you have found.

Picking it up, you make not a sound.

Crimson letters burned into your mind.

You wonder why I have left you behind.

Looking at me, you're taking it in...

Seeing the wounds of my sliced open skin.

Little by little, I tore it apart...

In my hands I hold my beating heart.

But slowly it's fading, you were minutes too late.

Soon regretting you're fatal mistake.

Mangles and broken, you know I am dead.

Drowned in the shallow pools that I bled.

Reading my note, you're wondering why...

Noticing the tear stains from when I cried...

"It hurt so much to have a life.

So I took it away with the blade of my knife.

No one noticed me disappear...

No one would care I was no longer here.

All they saw were my smiling eyes.

Never realizing they were all lies.

Hiding my pain, you never knew...

There were so many things I could never do."

So tired, desperate, and done with it all,

I had finally smashed right into a wall.

I enjoyed my death, it was very slow.

And now you know why I had to go...

I was forsaken and needed to die.

And that is the reason for my suicide.

But one more thing that I must do:

Tell you how much I still love you.