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Over Worked and Ranting

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Submitted By Nimber
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A relieving day dream passes through her unconscious thoughts that tend to stay in the back of most of our brains when we find ourselves involved in mundane or routine tasks. Our arms put on our jackets and our feet find their ways into our shoes, dishes and trash appears without any effort concentrated to land scattered about, following us around wherever we have been. Without telling our legs to carry us over close enough for our arms to bring our hands to tidy up. We all do it. We are taught that we should do it and when life becomes more complicated, our bodies help us along, taking up the slack of our minds. I was guiding my car down the highway, mezmorizing at the yellow center lines against the swirling grey. My auto-pilot knows how important it is to keep the wheels of my car between those white lines on either side of the road. Its amazing how to mind works and what it is capable for doing byits own decision to so so. A well trained brain is a nice comfort to have to get throught those hectic days safely and without crashing things into things. My brain made an image develop behind my eyes. How smart to not block my vision. My mind had me lay down and rest in a clean hospital bed. There was the security of the bed rails and a call light near. A tv hung on the wall, mind didn’t want me to get anxious and bored. Just to rest and sleep would be a welcome activity, but no way would they allow me to stop. I would get into hot water if I missed the appointments, the court dates, the visits with my children, the phone messages and if I missed one more class my entire hope for completeing and education, just a degree from whatever college I can attend. The graduation cap and gown, holding that hard to obtain piece of paper, Being done with classes. Boring hours spent in a chair as the clock ticks slowily until someone, my keeper, allows me to take a five minute break before glaring at me when the door echoes into the classroom as I shut it behind me. How silly I was teach, I apologize, I just don’t know why I thought I deserved to urinate and purchase a soda from down the hall. I my defense I ran today after break down the hall with my coke. Even the other week when the machine took my last two dollars for nothing in return. Although I was so hungry, I left without getting may money returned or a snack.
My mind really looks out for me. It hasn’t pushed me into things that I don’t want to do, but it understands. And it doesn’t undrtand. To my mind, subconsoulsy, it feels the logical choices are the best. Very rarely, if at all, does my mind choose what I feel is expected of my over what would provide relief. Mind subconscious mind has detached it self from me to persue itself as a separate being. As confusing as could become some time, I really like my mind. It keeps me company. I guess it is a she, but maybe my mind could be a man, maybe a child, or a spirit. Whos to say what my mind is in and of its own self. It is simply a self, this is a difficult concept to clarify.

It isn’t any wonder to me why my mind and I altered our relationship. We used to be like one person; one being. One’s end was the others, ones thought was each mine and its. It isn’t at its best right now and can you blame it? I feel that if is wasn’t effected in a way displaying its decline in health, if it could have went through everything with me, saw it all through my eyes and heard it all through my ears. Shared my pain, and suffered right as I have. How could it possibly be as it was? I would be leary of its faithfulness. Speaking of fearful to trust my mind all the time, what WAS that subconcuois daydream of me being admitted and resting in the hospital all about? Mind, tell me. Were you just seeking some way to find me a place to rest and hide from everyone, or… Surely you were implying that I cause harm to my body and health in order to become admitted. I really hope not. I thought we had outgrown our selfish desire to end our pain if nessisary by ending our life. We live for others now, not for ourselves. I mean, half of the time, mayne less than half. I cant lie to you mind. What would be the point in that. You are my best friend, my dearest and most loyal. You understand me a lot more than I belive anyone else can. First hand. You help me find my abitlity to draw. You keep my memory. Not the best memory but remember when we worked together so much until we figured aout how to forget things that were painful to remember? That’s why you are not good at remembering things, it was only for taking me away from the torture of those past hurts. I remember lthey were there, but as long as I don’t try to create imagey in my minds eye, you eye of course, as long as I sont give an effort to remember, those pains don’t haunt me like they did. Do you remember when I was a teenager. You were with me through that when no one else was. You went to art class with me at school. You loved to help me pick out my clothes and music. You helped me write poems. U help me write everything.
What are we to do? Im losing you, I can feel you slipping away. I can feel myself slipping away as well, but without you. We are becoming separate and it may not be a bad thing. You and I have been very sick together a long time ago. And then when I lost everyting I never had as a child, I lost my abilty to be me. I lost myself for all those years, a few of which I am pretty sure I never had a memory of. Im glad for that though. I lost everything all over again, mind. I don’t want you to see me if I get lost from myself again. You know youre the one for me, when I get better I will find you and we will be together just as ever before. I hope so any way. Its really up to you. I’m gonna keep trying though. Who knows how long it will take until life is livable again. I am looking forward to being myself again, not being tired all the time, saying no to drugs and alcohol because there is no desire for them. I miss that. But now, I’m broken again. Worst yet, the dr. aren’t really wanting to give people suffering to an extreme, the end of the spectrum and hurting so much the quality of life is nearly nonexistent. Not just gone is my joy for life but it never returns. Its not the lack of interest in things it’s the length of time that passes without joy. There no thing I find joy in like I used to. I did draw today, and I still have an ability that impresses myself, god granted or possessed by an artist, I cant explain how I can just draw anything so well. I conceive it, I see it, visualize it and whatever it is, it appears like magic. Just wish I wasn’t wasting one of the only talents I truly have. The only thing I can do with higher skill than anyone else I have encountered is the ability I have to make art. To draw, paint, design, write creatively and unique from any other human being in my small circle of people I can ever know. I wish, or how I wish I had motivation without a drug that I cannot access long term and as much as I need to become inspired. If only, oh (I beg) if only motivation would return to me once more. How tragic? How typical of my atypical beautiful disaster.

Is there anybody out there?
Hey you out there in the cold felling naked and alone can you touch me?
Hey you out there on the wall,feeling about to fall can you touch me?
Hey you don’t tell me theres not holding ooCritical of Crash, analysis of sorts
Crash, a drama film, was released in theators September 10, 2004. Doing better than expected, the movie grossed $55,400,000 in the box office. Crash is a one hour and fifty-three minute long film, rated R for Restricted() The film’s director, Paul Haggis, also co-wrote the screen play with Bobby Moresco and Robert Moresco.
A movie that, well, moves; there is never a dull moment. Confusion, chaos and conflict erupts before the second minute of this film. Abruptly following the time it may have taken for an audience of movie goers to hush their excited weekend night conversations of small talk, the first scene was well under way, potentially leaving many audience members confused as they settled into their seats with their popcorn. Begging with a bang and ceasing to break, Crash leads us chaotically from the first scene all the way through to the last.
If asked to identify the main theme of the movie, it wouldn’t be surprising to hear an overwhelming concensus- racism in the big ol’ City of Angels. Although it may be difficult to discredit any who claim the film created at the dawn of the new millinium show cased racist bigots at their finest hour. Charactors portrayed in this flick represent an almost infinite aray cukltures of colorful skin-color as well as personalities. We are “The GREAT Melting Pot” country; we are Califorians.
Yet, I found myself reluctant to sweep the injustice and resulting emotions triggered in a redudant moral of this story. To shallowly incase the intricately appalling actions of the entire movie cast of characters seemed far to simple. As the credits float upward and disappear into the top of the screen we shared a collective event of entertainment. leave this picture identifying the desire to refrain from one superficial flaw in the way we interact with the members of our community traditionally embedded our beliefs we were own subculters away only one lesson of learning to tolerate diversity of only race
Maybe we failed to grasp the writters’ intended message. Although there are ways to relate nearly every tragic scene of Crash to a racist motive there is a greater awakening calling to me. It isn’t simply about being a nice person to people just because they have different genetic physical traits. It is more than being patient with the language barrier induced misunderstandings. If we desire to avoid recreating the array of distress, helplessness, fear, anger, resentment, regret, blame, shame, frustration, apathy, worry, insecurity… there is much more to evolving into a better being.
Stooding up next to the bed I felt my legs lose the fight to carry me, as another wave of mauseos passed over me like a crashing ocean wave I grasped another plastic grocery bag. My mom will surely notice the bags missing from the other side of the kitchen door. It was only a matter of time until she demanded to know why I took so many from her collection. The short burst an apprehensive lightheadedness seemed to change my mind from using the bag. Be best to conserve what I can for later. I had a long night planned. I mentally sorted my to do list. Getting the most urgent out of the way first gave me the best outlook for the rest of the weak. I resolve to dust the fear induced cob webs out of my racing thoughts. Breathe.
I picked up the laptop and began putting letters into sentences. Randomly a paragraph would follow wherever it felt comfortable. Paragraphs atrack other paragraphs like unsprevied high school kids. I organized and groomed them, before long my paper was starting to come together. Maybe I’ll get this knocked out earlier than I planned and have that much more time to get things caught up that much further. It felt foolish to think of myself sleeping like I usually have done. This time is better spent working on things I can never seem to get to during the day, maybe the sunlight slows me down? I felt a since of possibility as the assignment neared resembling like a passable assignment when handed in during class.
I wished my stomach would stop taking so much time doing nothing. The heaving had become disruptive enough I took a break from my work, I thought, “I cant get anything accomplished like this anyway.”

Mid way into the highway on my way to Walmart the drivers lights approached with hardly enough time to clear the US hwy. I had looked carefully before leaving moms’ driveway on my way to Walmart for a flash drive. Slamming the breaks some where between moms driveway and the us hwy. Throwing my car into reverse I floored the gas petal The rumbling sound of gravel unter my cars front tires seemed to echo in the lights that looked as though reaching to tap the hood of my car. I suppose the maroon mini-van wished to shorten the long stretch of highway passed houses lulled to sleep by the river of rushing wind and metal. Gracefully I began the well rehearsed dance near the mailbox. gear shift slung forward as the break lifted as I pressed the gas petal.
I was in luck! Among the cars that filled the parking lot I saw one empty spot.

Crash displays classicly stereotypical situations to unfortunate charactors. Seemingly random scenes begin twisting and turning until eventually leading ways back to the beginning, completing a viscous interdependent circle.

Overall, the main focus of this film is racism, which is dealt with honestly, brutally, and without justification. The story line is clumsily interrupted numerous times, providing bital information that supports and slowly releases the story.

The movie,Crash, is set in the city Los Angeles, California. The location of the movie was perfectly selected because as the city portrays a primary example of an area containing a cultural blend of seemingly endless amounts of ethnicities.
Dictionary.com defines the word critical as: 1.inclined to find fault or to judge with severity, often too readily.
2.occupied with or skilled in criticism.
3.involving skillful judgment as to truth, merit, etc.; judicial: a critical analysis.
4.of or relating to critics or criticism: critical essays.
5.providing textual variants, proposed emendations, etc.: a critical edition of Chaucer.
6.pertaining to or of the nature of a crisis: a critical shortage of food.
7.of decisive importance with respect to the outcome; crucial: a critical moment.

Credits for the creaters of “Crash” included Producers Don Cheadle, Paul Haggis, Mark R. Harris, Robert Moresco, Cathy Shulman and Bob Yair; Executive Producers Marina Grasic,
Betsy Danbury ... co-producer
Sarah Finn ... co-producer (as Sarah Halley Finn)
Randi Hiller ... co-producer
Jan Korbelin ... executive producer
Dana Maksimovich ... associate producer
Tom Nunan ... executive producer
Andrew Reimer ... executive producer

_

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...Courtney Parker c.energizerbunny@gmail.com Courtney Parker c.energizerbunny@gmail.com Abstract Case Analysis and Three year Plan for Starbucks Abstract Case Analysis and Three year Plan for Starbucks Module 7 Final project Case Analysis - Starbucks Module 7 Final project Case Analysis - Starbucks Courtney Parker Strategy Final Project Case Analysis – Starbucks For my case study I have chosen the corporation of Starbucks. The intention of this paper is to introduce the mission and vision statement of Starbucks along with a presentation and review of their code of ethics. These statements and the code of ethics will be compared to and evaluated with the second chapter recommendations and concepts within Strategic Management: Concepts and Cases by Fred R. David. Starbucks does not have a vision statement but rather a mission statement in conjunction with a value statement of sorts. Interestingly, Starbucks mission statement is fairly far removed from coffee, their main source of profit and business venture. It states: “To inspire and nurture the human spirit – one person, one cup and one neighborhood at a time” (Starbucks.com, 2013). While the statement is inspiring, as a mission statement it fails when held to the standards put forth by Fred David. Although the mission statement for Starbucks addresses some of these, it only lightly highlights some and completely misses others. According to Strategic Management Concepts and Cases, a mission statement must...

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