I am Buddhist :: essays research papers

I am Buddhist An often forgotten essential in our short existence we call â€Å"life† is our need for at least a quintessential connection of spirituality for our own subsistence. And as this world we live in, develops into supposed â€Å"development’’ and as evolution directs our way of life into a tedious search of happiness derived from money†¦ and a person in a modern society barely has a moment for a prayer and â€Å"time’’ being as impatient as it is, the youth have no seconds to just sit and contemplate the power of a higher being, that a GOD might be the one that governs our destiny and fate†¦ and to have a flicker of an instant where one experiences a religious outlook on life†¦the air we breathe turns a little fresher and a load gets lifted off shoulders of stressed mentalities†¦ and call it a â€Å"pre-mature revelation’’ or a pious unveiling of my character but I have encountered such an emotion when I visited a ha ven called Bodh Gaya. Situated in the most corrupts of states in India, Bihar†¦it is an oasis of belief and hope and maybe the only answer and truth to some. It’s an uncanny placement for enlightenment, one might suggest†¦ but as a Buddhist, imagining all the struggle and suffering that the Buddha had overcome and all the adversities he had surpassed and of course the harsh truth he reveals to us and conveys with such meaning in his simple diction is at most overwhelming. At first sight the Mahabodhi temple standing tall among such meagre neighbours, humbled me at once†¦ petrifying in some ways and yet it seemed to comfort me all at once. As for the papal tree where Buddha had gained salvation is surrounded with such spirituality that it seemed to bog down upon my shoulders and yet at the same time it uplifted my spirits in the most unexplainable way. The hustling and bustling noises of Indians selling odd trinkets and beggars among the streets are drowned by the Tantric chants of monks praying in union. A pilgrimage that changed the way I thought about the youth†¦ and I was young too, therefore it basically changed the way I thought. As words are my limits†¦ so is word my only limits through which I cannot describe and do justice to the communion that one has to go there and experience for oneself. ‘’Nothing is as constant as change’’ and the journey through life does not end until death.

The Secret of Ella and Micha Chapter 14

Micha We end up racing home. I let her win, even though I'd love to have the favor, which would include lots of dirty things that she's not ready for. So now I owe her a favor and she tells me she has to think about it, with this little tease in her voice that makes me grin. We part ways at our houses and she leaves me with the promise she'll try to come over later tonight. She's slowly changing back into the girl I know, although that night still haunts her eyes, but I'm not sure she'll ever really get over it completely. It's still raining and lightning like hell, which means the party's going to have to take place inside. Ethan and I drag the wet keggers inside and stand them on the kitchen table. There's a note tacked on the wall from my mom, telling me she's going to be home late. Ethan starts rummaging through the cupboards for some food. â€Å"What band's playing?† â€Å"Naomi's.† I head to my room to change and get my guitar. â€Å"Answer the door if anyone knocks.† In my room, I tug on a grey t-shirt and pull a black pin-striped shirt over it. I slip on a pair of black jeans and put on a studded belt. Then I grab my guitar and text Naomi. Me: When u planning on heading over?† Naomi: Soon. Why? You waiting on us to tell us some super exciting news. Me: I haven't decided yet. Naomi: Don't turn it down. It's a great opportunity. Me: I'm not sayin yes or no. See u in a bit. When Naomi took me backstage at the coffeehouse, she first proposed the idea that I should replace their guitarist and hit the road with them. At first, I was all for it. It's what I've wanted to do since I was twelve and rocked out with Ethan and Dean in the garage. But then I thought back to Ella's sad eyes and doubts washed over me. The doorbell rings and I head to the living room to get the party started and clear my head for one night. Ella By the time I decide to go over to Micha's, things are already getting out of hand. Cars are parked on the lawn, and garbage cans are tipped over. Someone's even sitting on the roof. Lila talks me into going and we run up the driveway with our arms over our heads to shield our hair from the rain, but the crowded foyer overwhelms me and I start to back out. â€Å"Stop being a baby and go in there,† she says, giving me a gentle shove forward. â€Å"I want to see the tough girl everyone keeps talking about.† â€Å"No, you don't. Trust me,† I tell her. â€Å"She was mean and she would have never been friends with you.† â€Å"Okay, then show me a happy medium.† She has a dark blue, strapless dress on that matches her shoes and her blonde hair rests on her shoulders in curls, which have slipped loose because of the rain. â€Å"You can change yourself without losing your identity completely.† I turn away from the crowd toward her. â€Å"Why have we never talked like this before?† She smiles sadly. â€Å"Because you would never let us.† She says something else, but the music stifles her words. I fan the smoke from my face and step into the kitchen. Holding the bottom of my black skirt, I maneuver through the crowd toward the table. I lose Lila for a moment, but when the crowd thins, Lila stumbles out, stomping on a guy's foot with her high heel. She curses, fussing with her hair. â€Å"Has Micha ever heard of a little thing called air conditioning?† â€Å"He probably forgot to turn it on!† I shout over the music. â€Å"Wait here. I'll go turn it up.† I squeeze through the crowd toward the living room and the band. The music is deafening and I realize it's Micha playing with Naomi. They're sharing the microphone and he looks like he's enjoying himself. I stop in the middle of the room and watch him from the crowd. He's gorgeous under the light with his hair hanging in his eyes as he spills out his lyrics to people and strums on the guitar. I back through the room and into the hall. There's a couple making out in front of the thermostat. The music quiets down and then starts up again as I gently guide them over and they move out of my way without breaking their lips from each other. Fanning my face, I turn up the cold air. Suddenly, long arms encircle my waist and the scent of him fills my chest. â€Å"I thought you were playing,† I yell over the music with my hand pressed to my heart. â€Å"I was, but I took a break to see you.† His breath smells like beer. I scrunch up my nose. â€Å"Are you drunk?† â€Å"I've only had one beer,† he says. â€Å"I'm just excited to see you.† â€Å"And to be playing again,† I state. His smile is huge and it makes me happy for a moment. â€Å"Yeah, that too. I saw you watching me.† I shrug, playing it off. â€Å"I'm glad you're happy. You looked sad earlier at the drive-in.† His hand finds my hip and he grips it tightly, sending heat through my body. â€Å"I'm even happier now that you're here.† I relax against the wall. â€Å"You know I've heard you use that pickup line on girls before, right?† â€Å"Come on, let me have some fun with you,† he begs with a tease in his voice. â€Å"Pretend like you don't know any of my moves.† â€Å"You want me to pretend like I'm someone else?† I question. â€Å"Haven't you been telling me to do the opposite?† The reflection of the light dances in his eyes as he leans forward and wisps of his hair brush my cheek. â€Å"Just be the girl I used to know. The one that had fun and laughed all the time.† â€Å"That girl would have never pretended with you, even if you requested her to.† â€Å"I know that.† His other hand finds my waist and his body slants toward me. Glancing from left to right, I slide my hands up his firm chest and link them around his neck. Then I pull myself onto him and hitch my legs around his waist. His expression is stoic, but he lets out a growl and his lips come down hard on mine. Our chests press together as he thrusts his body into me. Our tongues connect, feeling each other thoroughly. My back is pressed into the thermostat and my skirt barely covers the top of my thighs. My head falls back against the wall as he trails kisses down my neck. My breathing is rapid and so is my pulse. What is he doing to me? The music stops and Naomi's voice rises over the speakers. â€Å"Micha Scott, get your ass back up here and play right now.† Micha pulls away, breathless. â€Å"I have one more song to play and then you and I are going to pick right back up with this.† Before I can answer, he leaves me in the hall. Touching my lips, I watch him weave back to the stage, knowing if he does pick it up, I'm not going to be able to stop it this time. Struggling with the loss of control over my own body, I wander back into the kitchen. Lila's over by the cooler, sipping on a drink and talking to Ethan. Straightening my shoulders, I march up to the counter and pour myself a drink. Lila and Ethan's eyes are on me as I knock it back. The alcohol burns my throat as I slam the cup down on the counter. â€Å"Who's up for a game of quarters?† *** Two hours and three shots later, I'm feeling pretty good. The band has finished playing and Micha has joined our game at the table. â€Å"Sail† by AWOLNATION beats through the stereo, soft lyrics and a sultry rhythm and it takes me back to another time. â€Å"I think I'm going to go dance,† I announce to the table. â€Å"Ah ha, I knew you secretly liked to dance.† Lila slams her hand down on the table and then hiccups. â€Å"Oh, excuse me.† Ethan laughs at her like she's the cutest thing in the world. â€Å"Are you reaching your limit little girl?† Lila narrows her eyes impishly at Ethan. â€Å"I'm not the one who missed the last three shots.† He replies with a comeback, but I don't hear it as I rise from my chair anxious to dance. Micha watches me inquisitively as I make a path through the crowd. Faceless people bead with sweat and the air smells like salt and is lit with desirable heat. The farther I descend into the crowd the hotter it gets. By the time I'm in the center, my skin is damp with sweat and the thin fabric of my strapless shirt is sticking to my back. There's a darkness inside my chest, like the devil hidden inside me is about to make a grand appearance. I raise my hands and sway my hips, letting my hair fall down my shoulders and back. I breathe freely, just like I use to. The more the music plays, the more relaxed I become. My head falls from side to side and my eyelids drift shut. I feel someone move up behind me and they smell of desire mingled with an earthy scent and something mouthwatering. Micha places his hands on my hips, his hands domineering. He nearly melts me as he spreads his fingers around my waist and presses his body against mine, wanting as much of me as he can get. â€Å"I thought you didn't dance anymore,† he whispers in a feral voice, his warm breath touching every part of me. I lean back into him, comfortable, and breathe in his familiar scent. â€Å"I guess I'm a liar.† â€Å"You didn't use to be.† He sweeps my hair to the side and implores our bodies closer as he moves with me. Through the fabric of our clothes, I feel the heat radiating off him like the sun. â€Å"In fact, you used to be the most honest person I knew.† I slant my head back against his chest. â€Å"I know, and I'm working on getting it back.† â€Å"Good, I'm glad.† His hands slide down my hips and don't stop until they reach the hem of my skirt. â€Å"Weren't you and I supposed to finish what we started in the hall?† I start to pull away, but he intensifies his embrace and restrains me against him so we're bonded in every way possible. I feel the hardness of his chest and the heat emitting off every single God damn part of him. It makes me want to moan. â€Å"You're fucking driving me crazy. You know that?† He whispers through a groan as his fingers slip underneath the side of my skirt and up my thighs. â€Å"I want you, pretty girl. Badly.† He's not lying. His desire is pressed up against the back of my waist. I should stop him†¦ He's practically got his hand up my dress and we're surrounded by a ton of people, but I give in to him, subsiding in his arms, and let his fingers inch higher up my skirt. Slowly, he kisses my skin, before parting his lips and nipping my neck, sucking, tasting, driving my body mad. His other hand wanders upward on the outside of my shirt and over the curve of my breast. I practically come undone in his arms. Without warning, I turn around, slipping out of his grip. I secure my arms around his neck. His eyes darken as he welds our bodies back together. My head falls back, allowing him access as I put my weight into his lean arms. He holds me tightly, tracking kisses down the hollow of my neck, licking my collar bone, delving lower and lower as his hand sneaks for the bottom of my skirt again and the palm of his hand caresses the back of my thigh. He groans, cupping the back of my head with his other hand, then suddenly he pulls away. â€Å"How drunk are you?† I glance from left to right like there's an answer hidden in the crowd. â€Å"I don't know.† He sighs and drags his fingers through his hair. â€Å"You're killing me, you know that?† â€Å"I'm sorry.† I pout. He laughs and directs me back over to the table. â€Å"Go meet up with Lila and I'll be there in a bit, okay.† â€Å"Why? Where are you going?† I ask. He rubs his hand across his face and lets out a breathy laugh. â€Å"I have to go take care of some business.† We part ways and I go back to the kitchen like he told me. Lila's eyes are accusing as I sit down at the table. I try not to smile, but I'm too intoxicated to care. â€Å"Look at you,† Lila says. â€Å"All smiley.† I start to say something, but spot Micha talking to Naomi in the middle of the crowd. She laughs at something he says and then the two of them head toward the hall where his bedroom is. I guess that was the business he had to take care of. I get up from the table and without another word I run outside into the rain. Micha Ella is killing me tonight. I've got a hard on so bad, it's probably going to take an hour in an ice-cold shower to calm me down and she's drunk, so I can't take it any further. I head back to my room, to take care of the problem myself, when Naomi meets up with me. She waves her finger at me and then laughs. â€Å"You and I need to talk.† â€Å"I still haven't decided!† I shout over the music. She takes me by the arm and tugs me down the hall, bumping people out of the way until we reach my room. She shuts the door and flips on the light. â€Å"Alright, please explain to me why it's so hard to make the decision about something you've always wanted to do?† â€Å"I'd rather not.† She throws her hands in the air, exasperatedly. â€Å"I don't get you. All you used to talk about in high school was playing in a band on the road.† â€Å"I still do,† I say. â€Å"But I'm not sure if I can leave people behind. Her face relaxes and her hands fall to her side. â€Å"I actually get that. I was worried to leave my dad alone, but I talked to him and explained why and you know what? He understood.† â€Å"Mine's more complicated, Naomi.† I sit down on the bed, wishing she'd leave. â€Å"It's not just my mom I'm worried about.† She sits down on the bed beside me and crosses her legs. â€Å"It's because of Ella.† â€Å"Fuck, am I that obvious,† I say. â€Å"Because I always thought I was subtle.† She snorts a laugh. â€Å"You've never been subtle. And it's not just you. It's both of you. But you know what, you can't center you're life around one girl. You gotta move on and live life the way you want to.† She doesn't get it. â€Å"Yeah, let's not talk about this.† â€Å"Alright.† She holds her hands up. â€Å"Sorry, I'll let you be. I just wanted to give you something to think about.† She pats me on the knee before heading out into the hall. Once the door shuts, I fall back onto my bed. Maybe she's right. Maybe it is time to let go of her. â€Å"Fuck.† I need resolution. My eyes wander toward Ella's house. It is dark, except for one light. The bathroom where her mother died. That light hasn't been on for eight months. Why is it on now?

Gatsby and the Complexity of the American Dream - 4080 Words

Gatsby and the Complexity of the American Dream F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby is an exploration of the American dream in modern society, in which money and prosperity are significant factors and it may not be as simple as you think; and the movie Citizen Kane is another example of the complex issues relating to the American dream. First, we will explore the American dream, in which it is to make a great deal of money because it provides for a comfortable living, and characters in the novel reflect upon this very ideal. Second, achieving the American dream of wealth is perceived to bring happiness, but that is not always the case as will examine the dream relating to the characters in the novel. Third, we will explore the†¦show more content†¦If Gatsby did not have the wealth, Daisy would have never given him the time of the day that she has. By having money, it changes your entire life, social status, and the ability to have almost anything you want. Gatsby throws weekly parties at his house with spec tacular decorations, entertainments, and world class cuisines. People don’t even know who Gatsby is, but they attend his parties because of the apparent wealth this man has to show. Everybody wants to be apart of the popular and wealthy crowd. He wanted to be accepted into the high society and these parties are a way to build his status. As shallow as it sounds, the novel seems to talk about people judging a book by its cover. In other words, the American dream to the characters in the novel is how wealthy and how much money one has. The characters in the novel reflect the very ideal of what most people perceives as the American dream, and that is the amount of money that one has. Jay Gatsby is a man who grew up with no money, but gained an enormous amount of wealth. He accomplished what most people dream of having, a life of luxury, but his only draw back is that he thought money can buy happiness. Tom Buchanan grew up with money and is a pretentious rich boy. He i s living the American dream of wealth and fortune. It is his money that attracts women to his side, such as his wife Daisy and his mistress Myrtle. Tom can get almost anything he wants simplyShow MoreRelatedThe Great Gatsby By F. Scott Fitzgerald1170 Words   |  5 Pages The Great Gatsby â€Å"The Great Gatsby† By F. Scott Fitzgerald is the tale of the glamorous lifestyle of the 1920s. Following World War I, America entered the roaring economic boom called the â€Å"roaring twenties.† The novel follows the life of Jay Gatsby through the eyes of his friend, and narrator, Nick Carraway. The American dream is based on living well, and earning money. Michael Schudson from Oxford University American Literary History describes the American dream as the idea â€Å"anyone, with hardRead MoreHow Does Wealth Or Societal Class Impact Our Personal Relationships?1360 Words   |  6 Pagespersonal relationships? 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The Great Gatsby could be, however, more complex than the average reader might imagine. The Great Gatsby is often interpreted as the corruption of the American Dream. In this framework, the Buchanans are viewed as the example of irresponsibility and degradation, and Gatsby the embodiment of idealism and sentimentalityRead MoreF. Scott Fitzgerald s The Great Gatsby1518 Words   |  7 PagesGreat Gatsby, (1925) depicts the story of Jay Gatsby, a self-made millionaire, who has moved to West Egg, New York to reunite with his former love, Daisy Buchanan. Through the novel, the representation of class and gender embody the social views on either subject during the 1920’s. Fitzgerald has used the characters within the novel to exemplify the social stratas and also the decades view on men and women. Fitzgerald has thereby u tilized the characters within the novel to depict the complexity of theRead MoreThe Great Gatsby By F. Scott Fitzgerald1523 Words   |  7 Pages6: As the chapter starts out Gatsby learns that with fame and fortune comes the people who will try to knock you out. We also learn that Gatsby was not born Jay Gatsby but James Gatz from North Dakota, or as the press says. This source says the Gatsby isn t who he says he is and that it was Dan Cody brought Gatsby under his wing and taught him all he knows about flying through life from the seat of his pants. Nick has spent much time with Jordan and hasn t seen Gatsby in a new weeks and decides toRead MoreAnalysis Of Lolita s Tehran Is A Memoir By Azar Nafisi1484 Words   |  6 Pagespurpose of life, which was somewhere lost during revolution. This memoir discusses life of women under the repressive regime and how literature helps them connect to reality.   Nafisi and her students read  western literary works like Lolita, The Great Gatsby, James and Austen. 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