domingo, 11 de enero de 2015

Christmas Presents


These were my Christmas presents. When I woke up in the morning and I saw all these gifts I got crazy. When I opened my presents I found socks (very nice) a handbag, a scarf, a pijama of Winnie the Pooh, a sweater, another scarf, two perfumes, a bracelet, a pair of boots, make-up, a pair of sun glasses, a book and money.

I was so happy and as exited as a child.

Introduction and Conclusion.

Are you going to tell to mum?. This sentence has troubled our childhood. When we were doing pranks with our brothers or sisters and we had that terrible fear of our mum knew it. That time when our bigger mischief was break a plate or a glass. Walking on the fresh grass although it was a signal that banned it.

I remember when I was playing with my little brother in the park and he broke a window with a ball. we ran and ran and when we were safe, he told me very nervously: '' Are you gonna to tell mum?'' I started to laugh because that was his only preocupation. My mum knew it all the end, I don't know why, but mums are like God, they know everything. The window was repaired.

To sum up, the innocence of a child is he bigger sign of purity. We can see on his faces everything. When they are sad, happy or even when they have done something bad. Whatever they do badly, they are always say: ''Are you going to tell to mum?''

Making Lists: Mapping


The first day of class we did a Mapping and here you are. This was my Map about English Litterature.

Thesis Statement.

Stop smoking is something that everybody that do it, should avoid it. However some people when try to do it, feel anxiety, an horrible humor and even sometimes, aggressiveness. But some people is being affected by these consequences.


  •  Anxiety:

            1. How do they feel.
            2. Items that this person can do to avoid it.


  • Horrible Humor:
            1. Reasons why this person can feel this bad humor.
            2. How we can do to stop it.

  • Aggressiviness:
           1. People who can being concerned bou it.
           2. Why.

  • Other People who can be affected:
           1. Children.
           2: Family.
           3. Friends.

  • Conclusion.

Walt Whitman a great poet

I had to read some poems of Walt Whitman at the high-school and this man woke up an ambition on me. His thinkings made me feel alive because of his admiration about every little thing. He loved everything since the grass to God.

He is the father of American litterature. He helped in the revolution of the Nation. He is one of the most important men in the American History. So, I want to share with you a poem which I really love: ''A child said, What is the grass?''

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full
hands;
How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it
is any more than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful
green stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we
may see and remark, and say Whose?

Or I guess the grass is itself a child. . . .the produced babe
of the vegetation.

Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow
zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the
same, I receive them the same.

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them;
It may be you are from old people and from women, and
from offspring taken soon out of their mother's laps,
And here you are the mother's laps.

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old
mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.

O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues!
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths
for nothing.

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men
and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring
taken soon out of their laps.

What do you think has become of the young and old men?
What do you think has become of the women and
children?

They are alive and well somewhere;
The smallest sprouts show there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait
at the end to arrest it,
And ceased the moment life appeared.

All goes onward and outward. . . .and nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and
luckier. 

Raymond Carter: Fear of

Some time ago, in class we did a continuation of the Raymond Carter's poem, ''Fear of''.
Some of my classmates did some phrases very interesting and I made a list with them.

Fear of death
Fear of being alone
Fear of love someone that doesn't love me
Fear of fears
Fear of War
Fear of us

They are my favourites sentences of the poem.

miércoles, 7 de enero de 2015

The advantages and disadvantages of being an only child in your family.

Being an only child in your family have two sides:

On the one hand, being an only child is sometimes good for you because you have more things. Maybe it sounds materialistic but it is true. I was an only child for twelve years and I know what is this. you do not have to share toys when you are a baby. All the presents are for you. In Christmas you are the star of the tree because all round around you. If your house is small, you do not have to share your room. You haven't to fight for whatching TV. You are the spoiled child in your home. Everybody give you gifts. In conclusion you are the king of your house.

But, on the other hand, being an only child in your family, you are alone. You do not have no-one to play. If your parents work all day, you don't have nobody to be with. When your parents telling you off, nobody is there to protect you. A brother is like a friend and if you do not have felt the adrenaline playing with him, you won't know what is the Brother's Love.