stuartfeistnerisawesome

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5 things I hadn't noticed in AHS until creative writing. 1. the fire extinguisher in the 300 hallway 2.the crooked fire alarm in the 400 hallway 3. the demonic locker. (#666) 4. some of the bathroom tiles are cracked. 5. the airport in the commons

Tonight, at youth group, I realized that humility is an important part in my life and everyone's life as a Christian, or just a descent human person. Like in my last journal, this is one of those words that our culture has changed, and pride has been dragged into the change along with it. We view pride as a good attribute in our schools and our lives and our families, our jobs and almost everything we do. Everyone is always talking about how we must have pride in what we do! If you would say this to someone from perhaps an older time, or maybe even to Jesus himself, they would be appalled at the obvious pride in pride. We define pride in being happy, content, and satisfied in what we do. We also say that feeling proud about ourselves as a positive thing and uplifts our self esteem, and it even brings about a certain aura of well being around anyone who holds up enough pride in their life. Well I see this as honor, we should have honor in what we do, but do so humbly. I'll explain myself: pride is described as one of the seven deadly sins, the seven worst and most constricting of sins. And it goes even further. Pride, as one of those seven, is said to be the worst and most binding, and also the most condemning. Yet we find ourselves encouraging this as an act of virtue. It is a complete enigma to me. But ranting about it isnt going to change anything, and even if I said something to the school board, I dont have a doubt that they wouldnt change their oppinion about pride. The Shakespearian quote "would not a rose by any other name still smell as sweet?" holds true for my issue of pride and honor. If we see honor as a rose and pride as a gnarled thornbush, even if we called the thornbush a "rose" or the rose a "thornbush," would they both not have the same effect? Since the only thing changing is people's perception of the idea of pride. My point in that analogy is that even if some form of honor (even when called pride) arises, it does good to the person, even though pride is terribly bad. Honor or pride, the only medicine for the ailment of pride is a healthy dose of humility. Now humility, as defined by my favorite author and theologan, is when a man builds a beautiful cathedral and thinks it is very elegant indeed. The sin of pride is committed when the man is very pleased with himself of how great of an architect he must be to have built such a structure. Humility is found when he appreciates it beauty just as much as if it was built by someone else. Not only does he recieve a clearer picture of any faults his cathedral may have (unproportion, so on and so forth) but he also appreciates it just as much if something happens to his self esteem or his disposition of himself. And he doesn't think himself any better than any other human being, and thinking so is one of the worst sins against God. Thanks for your patience of my long drawn out description and rambling about pride and humility.

the 10 things that are most important in my life. 1. Living out my life with Christ as a forerunner in my stream of events. 2. Smiling and laughing and hugging my girlfriend, Pammy. 3.Being with my family, and talking long nights away with my father 4.Sitting indoors all day, reading an excellent book 5.Listining to my favorite music, wherever I am. 6.Laughing with anyone and enjoying my liberties. 7.Tipping back my head in the pouring warm summer rain and closing my eyes and thanking God for my life. 8.Playing with my doggy -Bailey- in the backyard. 9.Knowing how much everyone in my life loves me, and being grateful for that. 10.Cheering up Pammy when shes upset, and making her smile even if she doesn't feel like it. :)

What I want.

What I want is Someone perfect

To be who I want Who I want is

My own smile She shares only

With me And her hands

Which grab only mine And her eyes

That look only into mine And her laugh

She uses hardest with me And her scent

Only for me to smell And her hair

Only flipped for me And her love

All for me I've got her

My blessings Counting 1, lost count.

I don’t really have a great, heartwarming, touching, or wonderfully lovely story about my dog Bailey. I //do// have a generally wonderful, faithful, playful, and overly ecstatic golden retriever. Her favorite game in the //world// is fetch, you show her that old muddy faded tennis ball and she starts jumping and spinning in circles, and she can barely contain her excitement when I make her sit in obedience because I know that she’s capable of it. I someday hope of expanding her patience, if even by a single iota, and the chances of even this are nearly astronomical. The single sentence that sums up Bailey is this, “you don’t have to say ‘fetch’…ever. She will literally sprint around that yard until she can barely walk and seeks shade to lie down and chew on her mangled tennis ball, but I always manage to pry it out of her mouth at the last second before it becomes an unrecognizable heap of scraps, previously decreed as a tennis ball. I would have to say that her only fault is that she will Never. Stop. Begging. Although I have to say that this is completely our fault as her caretakers, mainly my dad’s. Even while begging, she somehow manages to be cute. She never fails to get madly excited whenever //anyone// walks in the door, whether she recognizes them or not. I do have to say that this behavior epitomizes the rest of her character. She is, in general, a very excitable dog, and never fails to cheer up my mood whenever I’m feeling down in the dumps. In general, she is the best dog I’ve ever had, and I love her to death.

I have used this method of journalling for years. It "propels" me into writing. I demand of myself a 30-minute or 300-word effort. STEP ONE (Journal #4.1): Write a list of 11 writing ideas; number them 2-12 (numbers that coincide with the roll of 2 dice). These should be things you want to write. Consider: a poem to your grandma, an essay about a wrong that needs to be righted, a short story you've had brewing in your head. Your list will serve as your first journal entry. Your NEXT three journal entries will be determined by the roll of the dice. You MUST write about the topic you "roll." Write for at LEAST 15 minutes and at LEAST 150 words. 2 an essay about my dog 3 a journal about God 4 a letter about pride 5 a letter about chairs 6 a journal about pammy 7 an essay about walks 8 a story about a ninja 9 a journal about going to shows 10 a journal about how awesome Jesus is 11 a journal about how I don't like football and basketball 12 a journal about the importance of federalism in our society I am certain that the majority of you are aware that rescently our Iowa supreme court, through judicial decision, decreed that defining marriage between a man and a woman is unconstitutional. First of all, this should. have. been. put to the people! Iowa is -I was led to believe- a conservative state, and this declaration was put forth both rashly and without proper due process and consent of the people. But it's too late to get angry about that I guess, the decision is passed. What I do have to say, though, is that the allowance of gay marriage in Iowa does not make it any more acceptable in the eyes of God. I also have to say, that people who think that being gay is ok or right, simply because they say they have a right to, couldn't be more wrong. Saying this is literally the exact equivalent of saying that someone protesting on Capital Hill for the release of everyone convicted of murder (because they //believe// that murder is ok, and that we should have the right to kill whomever we please) should be listened to and believed. This sounds rediculous, I agree, and yet some people think that being homosexual is different -in some strange, inexplicable way- from any other kind of sin. It is explicitly said in the Bible that we are not to marry those of the same sex. I don't care how you feel about it, its the truth. Look it up, the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. It's there. If you doubt the power and authority of God, look at the basis and foundation of our country and the morals and ideals we all base our lives upon. The very defenition of marriage was first and foremost formed as a relationship between a man and woman UNDER GOD. That isn't just what some people believe it to be, thats what it was made as, and it is its definition. Also, the "unalianable rights" the authors of the declaration of independance were described as being "under God" its rediculous to say that God didn't have a part to play in the forming of our government and country. It just sickens me when people say that being gay is "right," because it's not.
 * Your response:**

Fable...thing. The once was a young mouse walking along the street. He felt so alone because there was no one even close to his size, he felt tiny in the big, wide, world. A big orange cat came along and didn’t even bother trying to scoop up or eat the mouse, for the cat said the meager mouthful would not even fill him up. The young mouse kept walking along the street. After a little while the mouse came along a great big St. Bernard, the huge dog. The big dog didn’t even pause to consider the mouse as something that would interest him. The young mouse dodged out of the way of the big padded paws. The mouse sighed and continued on his way. Soon enough, the mouse felt the earth shaking underneath his tiny little padded feet; he looked up and gasped with fear, for 8 gargantuan hooves were thundering along the street, taking up the entire space. The mouse barely got away from under at least three massive hooves, and nearly had his tail smashed off by a horseshoe. The frightened mouse dashed away, down a back alley and into a huge stable. He didn’t see any huge horses with scary hooves, so he decided it was safe enough to lay down for a nap. He awoke the sound of heavy breathing from big big big lungs. He opened his eyes and saw what looked like a massive snake in front of his nose, not a hairswidth away from the tip of his snout. He backed away in fear, but the creature didn’t hear his tiny shuffling. The little mouse decided to face his fear. His whole life he had dodged out of the way of beings so much larger than he. Not this time. He scrambled out of the hay pile, ran across the little space between him and the creature, and jumped on top of the gray snake. Up to what was….a big butt? This was definitely not a snake. The body of it went up in the air and widened exponentially. He thought he had heard of something like this before…a…phelalent…or something. Whatever it was, he kept climbing up, up, up to the top. When he reached the top of the head, he remembered what it was: an elephant. The small mouse shivered in fear. Dispite his small size, the shivering at the top of the elephants head woke the great behemoth up. The monstrous creature rose to its feet, and asked, “What tiny sort of creature is on my head?” But before the elephant heard any response, the young mouse ran down its back, and jumped off the back of the elephant. The mouse landed in a big pile of hay. He heard a tiny, tiny voice, “Ow! Get off me, you’ll soon crush me!” The mouse lifted his paw, and underneath was a tiny gnat. Fortunately, the mouse’s fall hadn’t crushed the tiny creature. The gnat continued, “For you are quite huge, please spare my soul and don’t choose to crush me beneath your mighty paw.” All this time, the mouse had thought he was tiny and insignificant, but all along there were less fortunate creatures, much smaller than he. The End