Open Question: Is it true that statistics can be used as a weapon or used as a medicine instead?
For example, if you conducted a study correlating black people with incidences of criminal activity - wouldn’t this be a weapon against them because the statistics are targeted to defame them?
On the other hand, if you conducted a statistics that correlated people who have a certain disease with a particular talent that such people tend to have, wouldn’t this be encouraging and a healing medicine to broken hearts?

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 05:53:57 GMT
Resolved Question: What do you think of the beginning of this novella?
This is just for fun and to help me overcome writers block for my novel. I don’t think that it’s as good as my novel but I still think that it’s okay. Is the ending too harsh? It’s not the ending of the story, just the ending of that small section….Thank you!
?Sophie, it?s time to go.? My sister slowly turned her face towards the sounds of my voice. She was lying flat on her bed, her long platinum blonder hair fanned out around her, and a book lying open on her chest. I sighed when I saw the book. I don?t know why she even bothered, it wasn?t like she could even read it.
But then I saw which book it was, and I knew why she had it lying on her chest, close to her heart. It was a book of nursery rhymes that our mom had used to read us when we were little. The cover was a bright emerald green and the title was written in large, raised, golden letters. Her long fingers on the right hand traced the pattern of the words ceaselessly.
?Dad wants to get on the road before traffic hits,? I added, hoping that it would speed up the amount of time that she took to rouse herself from bed. Sophie nodded slowly and pulled herself upright; the book slid from her chest to the floor. She swung her skinny legs off the bed and stood up painstakingly slow.
As she began walking, her foot caught the very book that had just slid from her chest, and she fell to the floor. She hard landed on her knees and hands. I heard the slap of her palms hitting the floor. Ouch. That must have stung.
I knelt beside her and reached out to help her up, but the moment my fingers brushed her arm she jerked away as if electrocuted. I pulled back quickly.
?I can stand up by myself, Emily, you don?t need to help me,? she spat, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet.
?Sorry,? I murmured. ?I was just trying to help.?
?Well don?t,? she snapped.
?Fine,? I snarled. ?Make your way through this mess without someone guiding you.? I gestured to the cluttered floor, forgetting that she would not be able to see my hand motion.
Sophie?s face stiffened as she realized that she did indeed need my help. Then she thrust her chin out and began walking forward. I pressed my lips together, folded my arms, and counted how many things she tripped over. One. Two. Three?
She finally made it to the doorway, tripping a grand total of nine times. I rolled my eyes. Her room was such a disaster. You?d think that a blind girl would keep her floor clean. But not Sophie. No, Sophie was Sophie, and she did whatever she pleased. Whether is made sense or not.
I trailed after Sophie as she made her way down the hall. She knew the pattern, the layout of the whole house by heart, it was just her room that got her. I almost laughed at the irony of it all.
?Sophie,? my dad greeted my sister warmly. ?Nice to see you up and about.? Sophie glared and didn?t say anything. My dad?s smiling face fell a bit but then he looked up at me. ?Ready?? I nodded.
?Ready.? Dad reached out and took Sophie?s hand, she jerked away and headed out the front door by herself. I touched Dad?s hand lightly, trying to reassure him. He looked at me and frowned slightly, as if it were my fault that Sophie was being so difficult.
?She?s just having a hard time adjusting,? he said, sounding weary. ?Don?t you go making it any harder on her.? I lowered my eyes and didn?t say anything. Sophie was a lost cause, and I knew it. Dad on the other hand?well, everything was my fault. Nothing the little princess did was ever wrong.
Sophie had lost her sight in the car accident that had killed our mother. Mom, Sophie, and I were in the car driving home from a New Year?s Eve party. Dad hadn?t gone to the party because he had had to work. A drunk driver sped through the light and hit a patch of ice. I remember seeing a flash of light and feeling pain everywhere. Then the darkness claimed me. I had woken up three days later in the hospital.
Mom hadn?t survived, Sophie was in a coma, but it was I who was the lucky one. I had a huge gash running down the length of my arm and a concussion, but that was pretty much it. I had always wondered why it wasn?t me who had died or had gone into a coma and woken up blind. Why me?
My fingers absently traced the white scar that disfigured my right arm. My dad saw the motion and looked away quickly. I knew that tears had sprung into his eyes. I hurried away before I could cause him anymore pain.
Sophie was leaning against the car, a scowl on her face and her arms crossed across her skinny chest. ?I thought you said that you were ready?? she asked crossly. I ignored her and pulled the door open. Sophie climbed in first and I followed closely behind.
I tugged the seatbelt down and clicked it in. Sophie pulled at hers for a moment until finally it released and she was able to latch it into place. She placed her feet on the back of the seat and slumped down low.
?Why do we even have to go to this stupid cabin anyway?? she asked. ?Maybe I don?t want to spend my summer
in the middle of nowhere with God knows what horrible creatures.?
?Oh stop whining,? I snapped. Dad climbed into the car at that very moment and twisted back in his seat, glaring at me.
?Don?t talk to your sister like that, Emily,? he said, sounding angry. Sophie smirked and I fumed silently. Don?t talk to me that way, Dad, I?m not a baby. I?m seventeen years old and I have ten times the maturity that you do. Who kept the family going after Mom died? Not you, that?s for damn sure.
?Yeah, Emily,? Sophie murmured out of the side of her mouth.
?You?re seventeen, act like it,? I hissed at her. Sophie glared and turned away and Dad frowned in the rearview mirror.
?Emily,? he said in a warning voice. I hate you, I thought bitterly. Then I instantly felt bad. What if we got in a car accident and Dad died, just like mom had? What if the last thought I ever about him was that I hated him. I love you, I corrected internally. You?re just infuriating sometimes.
I closed my eyes and lea
leaned my head against the window. The glass felt warm beneath my cheek, it was uncomfortable, so I pulled away. I turned my head and looked at my sister. Sophie was leaning against the window, her eyes shut, her arms still folded and her feet still propped up. Her thin mouth was set into a pout. Get over yourself, I felt like saying to her. Quite wallowing in self pity.
It was amazing how different Sophie and I looked; you could hardly tell that we were related, let alone twins. Well, fraternal twins, but still, even most fraternal twins share at least some resemblance. Not me and Sophie.
I was very tall and willowy, with gentle curves and more of a roundness to my features. Sophie, on the other hand, was average height, thought perhaps a little shorter than she should be, and had sharp, jutting features. Each was thin and angular as if carved with a steady hand from a block of ice.
Sophie had fair skin, but with a definite tan to it, whereas I had no color at all. We both wore o
our hair long, falling down our backs and too our waist. Mine was a dark chocolate brown and Sophie?s a bright platinum blonde. Her eyes were a light, icy blue, mine a bright green.
Sophie?s head snapped up to face me. ?I can feel you staring,? she said angrily. ?Stop it.? I turned away and closed my eyes. I hate you, I thought. And this time I didn?t feel guilty.
Oh…and Merry Christmas!
Because I wanted to post it again. Is that illegal?
Sorry, that was kind of rude, I just wanted more opinions
Huh, I’ve never heard of that novel. No, I just came up with the idea on my own. The novel I’m writing is a fantasy and I decided to do something more real. I dunno, writing a story about someone who’s blind has always appealed to me.
I did email you. It said it worked….
You don’t have to click on it…

Wed, 24 Dec 2008 23:15:29 GMT

Open Question: To ALL those who are scared of 2012, dont believe media, i am 100% mayan?
if u dnt believe me
THE WORLD WILL NOT END IN 2012
By Carlos Barrios
CARLOS BARRIOS was born into a Spanish family on El
Altiplano, the highlands of Guatemala. His home was in
Huehuetenango, also the dwelling place of the Maya Mam
tribe. With other Maya and other indigenous tradition
keepers, the Mam carry part of the old ways on Turtle
Island (North America). They are keepers of time,
authorities on remarkable calendars that are ancient,
elegant and relevant.
Mr. Barrios is a historian, an anthropologist and
investigator. After studying with traditional elders
for 25 years since the age of 19, he has also became a
Mayan Ajq?ij, a ceremonial priest and spiritual guide,
Eagle Clan.
Years ago, along with his brother, Gerardo, Carlos
initiated an investigation into the different Mayan
calendars. He studied with many teachers. He says his
brother Gerardo interviewed nearly 600 traditional
Mayan elders to widen their scope of knowledge.
?Anthropologists visit the temple sites,? Mr. Barrios
says, ?and read the inscriptions and make up stories
about the Maya, but they do not read the signs
correctly. It?s just their imagination? Other people
write about prophecy in the name of the Maya. They say
that the world will end in December 2012. The Mayan
elders are angry with this. The world will not end. It
will be transformed. The indigenous have the
calendars, and know how to accurately interpret it,
not others.?
The Mayan Calendars comprehension of time, seasons,
and cycles has proven itself to be vast and
sophisticated. The Maya understand 17 different
calendars, some of them charting time accurately over
a span of more than ten million years. The calendar
that has steadily drawn global attention since 1987 is
called the Tzolk?in or Cholq?ij. Devised ages ago and
based on the cycle of the Pleiades, it is still held
as sacred. With the indigenous calendars, native
people have kept track of important turning points in
history. For example, the day keepers who study the
calendars identified an important day in the year One
Reed, Ce Acatal, as it was called by the Mexicans.
That was the day when an important ancestor was
prophesied to return, ?coming like a butterfly.? In
the western calendar, the One Reed date correlates to
Easter Sunday, April 21, 1519 the day that Hernando
Cortez and his fleet of 11 Spanish galleons arrived
from the East at what is today called Vera Cruz,
Mexico.
When the Spanish ships came toward shore, native
people were waiting and watching to see how it would
go. The billowing sails of the ships did indeed remind
the scouts of butterflies skimming the ocean surface.
In this manner was a new era initiated, an era they
had anticipated through their calendars. The Maya
termed the new era the Nine Bolomtikus, or nine Hells
of 52 years each. As the nine cycles unfolded, land
and freedom were taken from the native people. Disease
and disrespect dominated. What began with the arrival
of Cortez, lasted until August 16, 1987 - a date many
people recall as Harmonic Convergence. Millions of
people took advantage of that date to make ceremony in
sacred sites, praying for a smooth transition to a new
era, the World of the Fifth Sun.
From that 1987 date until now, Mr. Barrios says, we
have been in a time when the right arm of the
materialistic world is disappearing, slowly but
inexorably. We are at the cusp of the era when peace
begins, and people live in harmony with Mother Earth.
We are no longer in the World of the Fourth Sun, but
we are not yet in the World of the Fifth Sun. This is
the time in-between, the time of transition.
As we pass through transition there is a colossal,
global convergence of environmental destruction,
social chaos, war, and ongoing Earth changes.
All this, Mr. Barrios says, was foreseen via the
simple, spiral mathematics of the Mayan calendars. ?It
will change,? Mr. Barrios observes. ?Everything will
change.? He said Mayan Daykeepers view the Dec. 21,
2012 date as a rebirth, the start of the World of the
Fifth Sun. It will be the start of a new era resulting
from and signified by the solar meridian crossing the
galactic equator, and the earth aligning itself with
the center of the galaxy.
At sunrise on December 21, 2012 for the first time in
26,000 years the Sun rises to conjunct the
intersection of the Milky Way and the plane of the
ecliptic. This cosmic cross is considered to be an
embodiment of the Sacred Tree, The Tree of Life, a
tree remembered in all the world?s spiritual
traditions. Some observers say this alignment with the
heart of the galaxy in 2012 will open a channel for
cosmic energy to flow through the earth, cleansing it
and all that dwells upon it, raising all to a higher
level of vibration.
This process has already begun, Mr. Barrios suggested.
?Change is accelerating now, and it will continue to
accelerate.? If the people of the earth can get
ppl lyk k_soccer, i kno its not ending in 2012, i wuz postting for ppl who are still questioning my people who “prophesied” this day, so dont post mean stuff im just trying to give guidance to the confused
garrettsambo, i kno rite but the thing is we didnt say it, we said its a cahnge not the end of the world, not a planet colliding, no new planet no comet no tidal wave, nothing we didnt say it, some freak idiot did trying to make money off of us
thanks jplatt ill do that next time, yea u guys i have info but the rest i in the following link http://www.redrat.net/thoughts/prophets/, but seriously just dont believe all the hype, people are just trying to make money off of this

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 20:28:05 GMT
Resolved Question: What do you think of this short story?
This is just for fun and to help me overcome writers block for my novel. I don’t think that it’s as good as my novel but I still think that it’s okay. Is the ending too harsh? It’s not the ending of the story, just the ending of that small section….Thank you!
?Sophie, it?s time to go.? My sister slowly turned her face towards the sounds of my voice. She was lying flat on her bed, her long platinum blonder hair fanned out around her, and a book lying open on her chest. I sighed when I saw the book. I don?t know why she even bothered, it wasn?t like she could even read it.
But then I saw which book it was, and I knew why she had it lying on her chest, close to her heart. It was a book of nursery rhymes that our mom had used to read us when we were little. The cover was a bright emerald green and the title was written in large, raised, golden letters. Her long fingers on the right hand traced the pattern of the words ceaselessly.
?Dad wants to get on the road before traffic hits,? I added, hoping that it would speed up the amount of time that she took to rouse herself from bed. Sophie nodded slowly and pulled herself upright; the book slid from her chest to the floor. She swung her skinny legs off the bed and stood up painstakingly slow.
As she began walking, her foot caught the very book that had just slid from her chest, and she fell to the floor. She hard landed on her knees and hands. I heard the slap of her palms hitting the floor. Ouch. That must have stung.
I knelt beside her and reached out to help her up, but the moment my fingers brushed her arm she jerked away as if electrocuted. I pulled back quickly.
?I can stand up by myself, Emily, you don?t need to help me,? she spat, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet.
?Sorry,? I murmured. ?I was just trying to help.?
?Well don?t,? she snapped.
?Fine,? I snarled. ?Make your way through this mess without someone guiding you.? I gestured to the cluttered floor, forgetting that she would not be able to see my hand motion.
Sophie?s face stiffened as she realized that she did indeed need my help. Then she thrust her chin out and began walking forward. I pressed my lips together, folded my arms, and counted how many things she tripped over. One. Two. Three?
She finally made it to the doorway, tripping a grand total of nine times. I rolled my eyes. Her room was such a disaster. You?d think that a blind girl would keep her floor clean. But not Sophie. No, Sophie was Sophie, and she did whatever she pleased. Whether is made sense or not.
I trailed after Sophie as she made her way down the hall. She knew the pattern, the layout of the whole house by heart, it was just her room that got her. I almost laughed at the irony of it all.
?Sophie,? my dad greeted my sister warmly. ?Nice to see you up and about.? Sophie glared and didn?t say anything. My dad?s smiling face fell a bit but then he looked up at me. ?Ready?? I nodded.
?Ready.? Dad reached out and took Sophie?s hand, she jerked away and headed out the front door by herself. I touched Dad?s hand lightly, trying to reassure him. He looked at me and frowned slightly, as if it were my fault that Sophie was being so difficult.
?She?s just having a hard time adjusting,? he said, sounding weary. ?Don?t you go making it any harder on her.? I lowered my eyes and didn?t say anything. Sophie was a lost cause, and I knew it. Dad on the other hand?well, everything was my fault. Nothing the little princess did was ever wrong.
Sophie had lost her sight in the car accident that had killed our mother. Mom, Sophie, and I were in the car driving home from a New Year?s Eve party. Dad hadn?t gone to the party because he had had to work. A drunk driver sped through the light and hit a patch of ice. I remember seeing a flash of light and feeling pain everywhere. Then the darkness claimed me. I had woken up three days later in the hospital.
Mom hadn?t survived, Sophie was in a coma, but it was I who was the lucky one. I had a huge gash running down the length of my arm and a concussion, but that was pretty much it. I had always wondered why it wasn?t me who had died or had gone into a coma and woken up blind. Why me?
My fingers absently traced the white scar that disfigured my right arm. My dad saw the motion and looked away quickly. I knew that tears had sprung into his eyes. I hurried away before I could cause him anymore pain.
Sophie was leaning against the car, a scowl on her face and her arms crossed across her skinny chest. ?I thought you said that you were ready?? she asked crossly. I ignored her and pulled the door open. Sophie climbed in first and I followed closely behind.
I tugged the seatbelt down and clicked it in. Sophie pulled at hers for a moment until finally it released and she was able to latch it into place. She placed her feet on the back of the seat and slumped down low.
?Why do we even have to go to this stupid cabin anyway?? she asked. ?Maybe I don?t want to spend my summe
summer in the middle of nowhere with God knows what horrible creatures.?
?Oh stop whining,? I snapped. Dad climbed into the car at that very moment and twisted back in his seat, glaring at me.
?Don?t talk to your sister like that, Emily,? he said, sounding angry. Sophie smirked and I fumed silently. Don?t talk to me that way, Dad, I?m not a baby. I?m seventeen years old and I have ten times the maturity that you do. Who kept the family going after Mom died? Not you, that?s for damn sure.
?Yeah, Emily,? Sophie murmured out of the side of her mouth.
?You?re seventeen, act like it,? I hissed at her. Sophie glared and turned away and Dad frowned in the rearview mirror.
?Emily,? he said in a warning voice. I hate you, I thought bitterly. Then I instantly felt bad. What if we got in a car accident and Dad died, just like mom had? What if the last thought I ever about him was that I hated him. I love you, I corrected internally. You?re just infuriating sometimes.
I closed my eyes
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the window. The glass felt warm beneath my cheek, it was uncomfortable, so I pulled away. I turned my head and looked at my sister. Sophie was leaning against the window, her eyes shut, her arms still folded and her feet still propped up. Her thin mouth was set into a pout. Get over yourself, I felt like saying to her. Quite wallowing in self pity.
It was amazing how different Sophie and I looked; you could hardly tell that we were related, let alone twins. Well, fraternal twins, but still, even most fraternal twins share at least some resemblance. Not me and Sophie.
I was very tall and willowy, with gentle curves and more of a roundness to my features. Sophie, on the other hand, was average height, thought perhaps a little shorter than she should be, and had sharp, jutting features. Each was thin and angular as if carved with a steady hand from a block of ice.
Sophie had fair skin, but with a definite tan to it, whereas I had no col
I had no color at all. We both wore our hair long, falling down our backs and too our waist. Mine was a dark chocolate brown and Sophie?s a bright platinum blonde. Her eyes were a light, icy blue, mine a bright green.
Sophie?s head snapped up to face me. ?I can feel you staring,? she said angrily. ?Stop it.? I turned away and closed my eyes. I hate you, I thought. And this time I didn?t feel guilty.
Thanks, but I haven’t written the rest of it I would email you but when I clicked the email link it wouldn’t let me…

Wed, 24 Dec 2008 20:15:23 GMT

Open Question: I have a heart murmur when i put my hand on my heart it feels like its fluttering but my pulse is normal ?
I have a heart murmur when i put my hand on my heart it feels like its beating
extra beats but my pulse is normal wen i check it on my neck or my wrist should
i worry?

Thu, 25 Dec 2008 08:36:18 GMT
Open Question: What caliber gun should be used to take down a lion?
Ok my father was diagnosed with terminal heart disease it has ALWAYS been his dream to go and hunt a lion in africa as his son I want this to be the last great adventure me and him go on together. My father and I are somewhat gun lovers so we have alot of hunting rifles but also can aquire more powerful rifles if need be my question is, What caliber has enough firepower to take down lion? Thank You ahead of time

Thu, 25 Dec 2008 21:21:33 GMT

Open Question: What do you think of the beginning of this novella?
This is just for fun and to help me overcome writers block for my novel. I don’t think that it’s as good as my novel but I still think that it’s okay. Is the ending too harsh? It’s not the ending of the story, just the ending of that small section….Thank you!
?Sophie, it?s time to go.? My sister slowly turned her face towards the sounds of my voice. She was lying flat on her bed, her long platinum blonder hair fanned out around her, and a book lying open on her chest. I sighed when I saw the book. I don?t know why she even bothered, it wasn?t like she could even read it.
But then I saw which book it was, and I knew why she had it lying on her chest, close to her heart. It was a book of nursery rhymes that our mom had used to read us when we were little. The cover was a bright emerald green and the title was written in large, raised, golden letters. Her long fingers on the right hand traced the pattern of the words ceaselessly.
?Dad wants to get on the road before traffic hits,? I added, hoping that it would speed up the amount of time that she took to rouse herself from bed. Sophie nodded slowly and pulled herself upright; the book slid from her chest to the floor. She swung her skinny legs off the bed and stood up painstakingly slow.
As she began walking, her foot caught the very book that had just slid from her chest, and she fell to the floor. She hard landed on her knees and hands. I heard the slap of her palms hitting the floor. Ouch. That must have stung.
I knelt beside her and reached out to help her up, but the moment my fingers brushed her arm she jerked away as if electrocuted. I pulled back quickly.
?I can stand up by myself, Emily, you don?t need to help me,? she spat, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet.
?Sorry,? I murmured. ?I was just trying to help.?
?Well don?t,? she snapped.
?Fine,? I snarled. ?Make your way through this mess without someone guiding you.? I gestured to the cluttered floor, forgetting that she would not be able to see my hand motion.
Sophie?s face stiffened as she realized that she did indeed need my help. Then she thrust her chin out and began walking forward. I pressed my lips together, folded my arms, and counted how many things she tripped over. One. Two. Three?
She finally made it to the doorway, tripping a grand total of nine times. I rolled my eyes. Her room was such a disaster. You?d think that a blind girl would keep her floor clean. But not Sophie. No, Sophie was Sophie, and she did whatever she pleased. Whether is made sense or not.
I trailed after Sophie as she made her way down the hall. She knew the pattern, the layout of the whole house by heart, it was just her room that got her. I almost laughed at the irony of it all.
?Sophie,? my dad greeted my sister warmly. ?Nice to see you up and about.? Sophie glared and didn?t say anything. My dad?s smiling face fell a bit but then he looked up at me. ?Ready?? I nodded.
?Ready.? Dad reached out and took Sophie?s hand, she jerked away and headed out the front door by herself. I touched Dad?s hand lightly, trying to reassure him. He looked at me and frowned slightly, as if it were my fault that Sophie was being so difficult.
?She?s just having a hard time adjusting,? he said, sounding weary. ?Don?t you go making it any harder on her.? I lowered my eyes and didn?t say anything. Sophie was a lost cause, and I knew it. Dad on the other hand?well, everything was my fault. Nothing the little princess did was ever wrong.
Sophie had lost her sight in the car accident that had killed our mother. Mom, Sophie, and I were in the car driving home from a New Year?s Eve party. Dad hadn?t gone to the party because he had had to work. A drunk driver sped through the light and hit a patch of ice. I remember seeing a flash of light and feeling pain everywhere. Then the darkness claimed me. I had woken up three days later in the hospital.
Mom hadn?t survived, Sophie was in a coma, but it was I who was the lucky one. I had a huge gash running down the length of my arm and a concussion, but that was pretty much it. I had always wondered why it wasn?t me who had died or had gone into a coma and woken up blind. Why me?
My fingers absently traced the white scar that disfigured my right arm. My dad saw the motion and looked away quickly. I knew that tears had sprung into his eyes. I hurried away before I could cause him anymore pain.
Sophie was leaning against the car, a scowl on her face and her arms crossed across her skinny chest. ?I thought you said that you were ready?? she asked crossly. I ignored her and pulled the door open. Sophie climbed in first and I followed closely behind.
I tugged the seatbelt down and clicked it in. Sophie pulled at hers for a moment until finally it released and she was able to latch it into place. She placed her feet on the back of the seat and slumped down low.
?Why do we even have to go to this stupid cabin anyway?? she asked. ?Maybe I don?t want to spend my summer
in the middle of nowhere with God knows what horrible creatures.?
?Oh stop whining,? I snapped. Dad climbed into the car at that very moment and twisted back in his seat, glaring at me.
?Don?t talk to your sister like that, Emily,? he said, sounding angry. Sophie smirked and I fumed silently. Don?t talk to me that way, Dad, I?m not a baby. I?m seventeen years old and I have ten times the maturity that you do. Who kept the family going after Mom died? Not you, that?s for damn sure.
?Yeah, Emily,? Sophie murmured out of the side of her mouth.
?You?re seventeen, act like it,? I hissed at her. Sophie glared and turned away and Dad frowned in the rearview mirror.
?Emily,? he said in a warning voice. I hate you, I thought bitterly. Then I instantly felt bad. What if we got in a car accident and Dad died, just like mom had? What if the last thought I ever about him was that I hated him. I love you, I corrected internally. You?re just infuriating sometimes.
I closed my eyes and lea
leaned my head against the window. The glass felt warm beneath my cheek, it was uncomfortable, so I pulled away. I turned my head and looked at my sister. Sophie was leaning against the window, her eyes shut, her arms still folded and her feet still propped up. Her thin mouth was set into a pout. Get over yourself, I felt like saying to her. Quite wallowing in self pity.
It was amazing how different Sophie and I looked; you could hardly tell that we were related, let alone twins. Well, fraternal twins, but still, even most fraternal twins share at least some resemblance. Not me and Sophie.
I was very tall and willowy, with gentle curves and more of a roundness to my features. Sophie, on the other hand, was average height, thought perhaps a little shorter than she should be, and had sharp, jutting features. Each was thin and angular as if carved with a steady hand from a block of ice.
Sophie had fair skin, but with a definite tan to it, whereas I had no color at all. We both wore o
our hair long, falling down our backs and too our waist. Mine was a dark chocolate brown and Sophie?s a bright platinum blonde. Her eyes were a light, icy blue, mine a bright green.
Sophie?s head snapped up to face me. ?I can feel you staring,? she said angrily. ?Stop it.? I turned away and closed my eyes. I hate you, I thought. And this time I didn?t feel guilty.
Oh…and Merry Christmas!
Because I wanted to post it again. Is that illegal?
Sorry, that was kind of rude, I just wanted more opinions
Huh, I’ve never heard of that novel. No, I just came up with the idea on my own. The novel I’m writing is a fantasy and I decided to do something more real. I dunno, writing a story about someone who’s blind has always appealed to me.
I did email you. It said it worked….
You don’t have to click on it…

Wed, 24 Dec 2008 23:15:29 GMT
Open Question: Heart arythmia how to prevent?
how do i prevent this im 15 and 200 pounds when i get this my chest feels weird or hurts and it feels like my heart stops for a few seconds but another problem is i dont have health insurance so my mom cant take me to the doctor

Tue, 23 Dec 2008 19:19:21 GMT

Voting Question: Worried about my Heart!?
I have Panic Disorder. My panic ATTACKS usually start like this. Iam usually sitting calmy in a lecture, falling into a sleep, when i notice my heart rate is unusually slow. My resting heart rate as I measured is about 55 or 60. I excersise 7 days a week, cardio, high impact aerobics. So anyway, I notice this slow heart beat and it freaks me out! Thinking my pace maker isnt working and My heart will stop beating now and Ill suffocate!! Thats when I force the adrenaline rush to come and speed up my heart rate, I begin to feel nauseous, panicky and derealization of my surroundings kick in! Then the wave of heat comes over and the panic attack occurs with my heart beating out of my body!.. My ECG shows that I have a minor respiratory arythmia, but it is insignificant. I had an ECG had many times and all was well. My blood level is great, so are all my hormones, and a high DHEA. So, is the ’slow heartbeat fear’ just my imagination? Im going to get heart ultrasound to see if maybe I have a mitral valve prolapse which is causing my attacks.
Now Im trying to sleep but I cant because i smoked a few cigs and my anxiety heightened, I lay down on my bed falling alseep and as soon as i drift away I get a wave of anxiety about my heart and feeling dizzy while I sleep and i wake up. I want to sleep, im tired but i cant due to waves of anxiety waking me up, and I see closed eye hallucinations and my imagination now (when i close my eyes) is scarily vivid, i see faces of real ppl right before my eyes. WHATS WRONG WITH ME?

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 00:43:54 GMT

Open Question: what do you think of this?
He shoved me so hard it felt like my back had broken. A piece of wood from the dresser was poking me in my side. I pushed myself away, but it continued to dig into me. The lights weren’t on and the only thing illuminating the room was the moon. The stupid, shiny moon, the one thing I could only count on seeing at night.
“Don’t,” I murmured. My voice was so low and barely there I hardly recognized the fact that I was speaking. “Please…just don’t.”
“Why?” he asked. “You don’t think you deserve it?”
I didn’t deserve it. He deserved it. If I were stronger I would be the one hurting him, making him go through pain every day. I would, make him wonder when I would randomly show up again to cause him panic and fright. I’m not strong though. I’m the farthest thing from it.
“Carissa,” he said quietly. His one hand was stroking my face, his fingers were ice cold, like his heart. His other was clipped around my arm, keeping me there in his control.
I managed to break free of his grasp. “Don’t touch me, don’t come near me. Never come back here!” I exclaimed as I ran to the door. I flipped on the light. I didn’t want to see his face, but I felt better in the dark. I avoided his eyes. “Leave please,” I begged.
“Why? Don’t you love me?” he asked.
“Jason,” I said his name. It felt awful. His name felt wrong, dirty now. Why did he have to ruin everything. We had one beautiful year together, now he screwed everything up. “Please leave.”
“You love me,” he stated.
I wish I could deny it. I honestly hope that one day I can go out and yell to all the world that I don’t love Jason Marres. The fact of the matter is that I do. No matter how hard I try to not think about him, the good times we’ve shared, our friendship, I still remember the good times. I still remember the old him.
“I think you should leave, before I do something I regret.”
This brought a smirk to his face. The corner of his mouth tugged up and he began to laugh.
“Leave, my parents will be home soon. You’ll get in trouble if they catch you. I’ll get in trouble,” I explained as I left my bedroom.
He followed me to the kitchen. I wasn’t liking the idea of being in the same room with him and knives. He knows where everything is…this could get ugly.
“Your parents love me.”
“They won’t after they find out what you did to me upstairs,” I sighed. I pulled the edge of my shirt up, my side was already bruising.
He took his hand and grabbed my jaw. He was squeezing so tight I thought my chin might snap in two. “You won’t tell anyone,” he commanded.
I nodded, what else could I do?
“Good.”
“I’m about to fall apart here,” I moaned.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. It wasn’t a normal way to say goodbye, it seems like it is, but it’s not. It’s a threat. A horrible threat that I know he’ll follow through with.
So is it weird? Or good…or boring, not enough detail? Your feedback, thanks!
i just had an idea about her boyfriend beating her etc…but i want it to be more than that. i’ve gone through so many different ideas, anyone have any tips on where i should go from here?
oh and sorry about a ton of mistakes grammar wise and spelling…
yeah she was raped and beaten.

Wed, 24 Dec 2008 04:37:50 GMT
Open Question: What is Wrong With My Body?
Ive asked myself everyday how i do this ever since i was like 5 years old ive been Overweight and im like 19 now that is like 14 years of being overweight yet i feel fine ive been checked every year for Heart disease and and other stuff nothing for the past 14 years and my hearing is like beyond the human range of hearing i swear i can hear morse code sometimes when i walk around the city well Idk and also ive never been sick at all in my life and for some reason i keep having Near-death Experiences when i sleep …. i see flashing white lights when i close my eyes all the time they are very bright and i almost got hit by a car today but instead all it did was scrap my leg a little bit. something else too for some reason my eyes are crap in the daylight i can barely see anything its so blurry with glasses its readable and then at dark its fine and i can see crystal clear without glasses someone just give me a idea what is wrong with my body i want serious answers or theories not offensive ones thank you
about the near-death thing i wake up sometimes breathing for my life like i have been near death and revived
But i like sleep like 24 hours a day sometimes but i always sleep more then 17 so not getting enough sleep isnt the problem
usually when i do sleep its so dang deep sleep hitting me won’t wake me up for some reason and my dreams are like very intense if i get shot or hit in the face i wake up very very in pain and sometimes bleeding
OMG AMO i was born September 15th =O

Wed, 24 Dec 2008 07:03:23 GMT

Open Question: A Bible Poem I wrote, your thought?
The king’s mantle
when the servants are proud to be themselves
huddling ’round his splendor, willing to be slaves
cause he picks up the ones with a strong creed
so Bene Israel could possibly want him to lead
together they reunite to slay who gets in their way
just to frighten the Philistines and keep them away
they expelled as their plea passes through the clouds
it goes to God’s ears to show it off in front of crowds
like splitting the sea apart to move them out of hell
while Pagans kneel to sculpture for help but to no avail
and what about Moses’s tribe that was turned into a snake
but Pharaoh dug his heels in, laughing out loud “it’s a fake”
the Egyptians attempted to make a copy of Moses’s deeds
it was impressive but they weren’t as alike as what he did
Pharaoh’s smile got distorted, sitting on the edge of a throne
“I won’t set your nation free Moses, your holy God is unknown
the signs kept astounding him, he even wanted to let them out
but he reluctanted, God always toughened his heart about
then Egypt went through a dozen hits, each one was worse
until Pharaoh sent Bene Israel away without showing remorse
chorus
The king’s mantle is trailing along the rug
and his crown is set with gold & good stones
he spreads his wings for a forlorn to snug
rising up poors with praises he owns
he resembles a refuge for us to secure
the Omnipotent prevents diseases before he cures

Tue, 23 Dec 2008 17:30:36 GMT

Open Question: can you tell us how to protect the heart disease?
my girlfriend has got some disease about heart?and i cant do anything here .and feel so sorrow to her.what can i do now?

Tue, 23 Dec 2008 07:22:11 GMT
Resolved Question: what is a heart arythmia?* I have one and my doctor told me that my heart speeds up when breathing….?
and it slows down when breathing out. What causes this? And im i going to have problems later in life? (i’m great so far and in excellent shape)

Wed, 17 Dec 2008 04:03:50 GMT

Resolved Question: Out of breath after little excersise!?
i did cardio aerobics for a YEAR! like 2 hours a day. but reccently iv developed panic disorder which made me more aware of my heart rhythms. now when i climb a flight of stairs my pulse rate is 80! when at rest its like 55 or 60! weird ! - because i can do 2 hours of high impact aerobics and am in shape and fit, high haemoglobin levels, only a small respiratory arythmia, just jeeze louise i feel my heart pounding in my head after climbing the stairs to get to the second floor of my house!

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 15:04:02 GMT