FREE ESSAY ON ABRAHAM LINOCLYN

ABRAHAM LINOCLYN

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Published may 15, 1803
By Melissa Robertson
1605 Dogwood way
Editor 1 Matthew Schwabe
Editor 2 Jamie Herras
Editors statement:
My magazine American Dreams was put together merle to show that I have the smarts to do
anything I put my mind to. This magazine signifies the struggles I went through to put
together a piece noteworthy enough to show my dear teacher Mrs. Bleeker. In this magazine
I am going to show you all about what the American dream really means. When you think of
American Dream, you're probably thinking how perfect and unimaginable it might seem.
Weather you like it or not the American dream wasn't always dreamy, in some cases it was
seen to be all in all a big nightmare. If you didn't have money during the early 1800's
the American dream was somewhat out of reach. In the 1800's Americans struggled to
survive, with people, government and money. The so called outrageous teens who were best
know by their ways of drinking and dancing, turned out to be not so bad people, most grew
up to be respectable Average citizens in this wonderful country, America
Magazine Editorial:
By Matthew Schwabe
As editor of this wonderful paper, it is my job to make sure that everything fit's
perfectly to our decade of living. Now I want to share an opinion of mine about the
All-American dream in my own words. The American dream in my eyes is much more than a
title. It is a way of living in these crazy years. Things aren't so bad for people like
me. I live life carelessly. I live for money, luxuries, and famous life styles. These
years have been filled with many outstanding memories of faith, and an undying goal to
reach the ultimate place in life. 
I have more money than I could ever need, thanks to my fathers wealthy business. I am
living my life to the fullest buying what I please and doing what I please. If the
American dream is such a nightmare then why am I living my luxury life in such a dream
state? My life is perfect, my kids have all the want and need, my wife is happy, I am
happy. It all goes to show that living the high life is much dreamier than living the low
life.
Reader Editorial: 
Thomas Paine tells us about his life.
By Thomas Paine
My name is Thomas Paine. I was born in Thetford, Norfolk, England, January
29, 1737. I attended school until the age of 13. I served in the Pennsylvania militia in
1776. I was married twice. My first wife was Mary Lambert in 1759, but she died in 1760.
My second wife was Elizabeth Ollive in 1771, and we were illegally separated had many
occupations, among them were; schoolteacher, tobacconist, and grocer. While I was
lobbying for excisemen, I met Benjamin Franklin. Franklin was impressed by my education,
and after I was forced into bankruptcy in 1772 Franklin helped me start up again. I
arrived in Philadelphia in 1774. I contributed extensively to the American Dream
magazine, yet I achieved my fame through my publication of the pamphlet Common Sense.
Also in 1776, I wrote the Pennsylvania Packet, where I defended my theories against
attacks by William Smith. While serving in the Continental army, I furthered my writing
with The American Crisis, a 16 pamphlet series supporting the revolutionary war. After an
appointment as clerk of the Pennsylvania Assembly and a trip to France for money and
stores, I retired to the farm at New Rochelle that New York presented to him. I then
wrote Dissertations on Government currently I am living in harmony with nature.
Short story:
My bed
The roar of my parents yelling accusations at me rings in my ear, I carelessly gossiped
about my best friends, and the sound of their cries floats around in my head, and the
knowledge that my boyfriend is cheating on me pierces my heart. Unbreakable tears pour
down my makeup perfected face as I scurry to my room, abrasively slam my door, and pour
onto my bed as its strong arms embrace my trembling body. Suddenly the large worries that
are strangling my life seem a far away world as I lie underneath my bed's layers of
clothing and its pillows surround me. My mind trails off...what actually is a bed? Is it
only the central sleeping device, or does it go beyond that? I began to realize how much
my bed and I depend on each other. What would I do without it? How would I live and what
would be my escape goat for all my troubles? Friends, family, and people in general will
never be continuously comforting, but a bed will. It is not only the center attraction to
my room, but to my life. It comforts me, and in return I take good care of it; my bed is
my best friend. Not only is it the closest thing to me besides life itself, but has been
with me through all my troubled, confusing, and wonderful times and has shared my
experiences as well as I have. 
The day we moved into our new house, my bed was my first present and that started our
sharing of my experiences. The tears I have shed during fights between parents and
friends are now hidden inside my bed, the day I received my first kiss was ended lying in
its layers of clothing as I selfishly drowned in my happiness. My 15th birthday, when I
was able to get my learner's license and finally form into a true teenager ended in my
bed. Each of these experiences shape me into the person I am and will be, and my bed is
the only thing that has shared each one. When I need a place to go for all my needed
comfort, my bed is there as it will always be. Why else would a bed's make-up include a
comforter?'' Because it is there for comfort! I can trust my bed with all my secrets and
I am assured that it will never tell a soul. I owe nothing to my bed, for its arms are
continuously welcoming me, never refusing me. It is the opening door to all me dreams.
Dreams of my future, what I want to be when I grow up, what aspects I dwell on in life,
are all thought while resting in my bed. Lying in it for a short period takes me to an
unknown world, a place of comfort, peace, and rest. Its softness pillows and surrounds
me. No harm will actually come into my bed, but floats underneath it, hiding in the night
and disappearing into the morning. As a child, the thought of monsters harming me at
night always frightened me. I would always run as fast as my little feet would take me,
and leap headfirst into my bed, afraid that the monsters were hiding underneath my bed
and their outstretched arms would grab me. But by the morning, the monsters would be
gone, only to return at the next nightfall. My bed is a place to run into, to let myself
go free and to forget all my worries! When I cry, my bed cries with me, collecting my
overflowing tears. When I am excited, my bed shares my laughter as my tears dry away. My
bed is a best friend, always trustworthy, comforting, and welcoming. I love scenery, such
as the sunny outdoors smothered with flowers and blue skies. My bed reflects what I love.
Its first layers of sheets are covered in multicolored variations of flowers. Its large
comforter has stems of grass with flowers growing out of it. On the flowers are small
ladybugs that add a sense of life. As a finishing touch, I have added large and small
pillows in my favorite colors (orange, yellow, and pink), that complete my bed's decor.
The positivity of my bed relates to me and reflects my liking. Not only myself, but
others may also enjoy my bed, just as others can enjoy me. I take good care of my bed by
cleaning it often. Why shouldn't I? For all that my bed offers me, I must give back
something in return. 
My bed and I share each precious day. We begin our day together, as we both open our eyes
together into the smiling morning. When I come home from school each day, I no-doubtfully
get on the phone and ramble on about my day onto the other line. I do this on my bed as
it can share that particular day with me. I complete my homework on my bed, and whether
or not I am studying algebra, chemistry, or English, its comfort helps me to focus and
relax on whatever task I am performing. Whatever problem I have, stress I'm stressing,
tear I cry, laughter I make, and dream I dream, my bed is always their to take me away.
And I end my day with my bed, as we close our eyes together and dream away into the
darkness of the silent night.
Reader editorial:
Jamie Herras, lawyer:
Opinionated view.
Racism, in definition, is the belief that humanity is divided into stratified genetically
different socks called races; according to it's adherent's racial differences make one
group superior to another. If you are a racist, you believe in racism. Racists will often
claim that members of their own race or minority are mentally, physically, morally and/or
culturally superior to those of other races. For these reasons, many racists think they
deserve special rights or privileges. To people in Europe, Asia, and on other continents,
America is a wonderful place to live. It has been said to be "one of the greatest nations
on earth." Yet, our struggle to regulate all of our citizens is a revolutionary war that
has yet to and probably will never be won. Slavery is said to be one of the greatest
racial tragedies to ever happen in America. Upon the entrance of this new decade, slavery
and racism is practiced in America. White Americans have their forefathers to blame for
the hatred and anger they have in their hearts concerning races different from theirs.
What is said to be "the God-given right to equality and ultimate freedom" has been
crushed for many, by the unnoticed ignorance of my 'finely' educated people. Racists
often need someone to blame for the wrongdoings, hatred and stupidity in America. Who
better to blame than someone with skin of a different color?
Definition of literature, and discussion of the American dream literary Period.
What is the AMERICAN DREAM?. The American Dream is the following: Go to college, get a
good job, and finally get your own family. If we think about it, isn't the American Dream
a worldwide dream? The American Dream is created by this value system. The American Dream
is intended to be a way of life attainable to all Americans. The American Dream can
either be a reality or a nightmare depending upon the cultural prejudices and
availability of freedom Thus the difference between the American Dream v/s the American
Reality exists due to the existence of poverty. Poverty seems to be the cause of every
misfortune in life, and even in their make believe world, everything they really want is
due to poverty and nothing else the American dream is a fantasy for the people and in
reality it is an American Nightmare- maybe because their lives were worse than they were
back in their homelands- and that their hopes were diminished and in many case false
hopes. People can achieve the dream by 'passing' and sacrificing their past friends and
life in general., the American Dream is viewed differently by different people and it all
depends on the qualities and willingness to take risks. 
Feature 1 
What America Means To Me.
To me, America is like a box of crayons. If we do not use them all, the picture is not
complete. In case one of those crayons becomes worn down--just sharpen it. There have
been problems that we faced with where our country has worn. However, we have always
bounced back and not only sharpened our crayon, but 
sharpened our image as well. We conquered such problems as the Great Depression,
segregation, the Revolutionary War, and slavery. These are examples of problems that some
countries still cannot defeat. There are also problems happening right now that are
wearing us down as a country Such things as our national debt, social security, and
politicians and their scandals. We are nevertheless, looking for ways to solve these
problems. There are 3 essential colors
included in the picture. They are red, white, and blue. To me, they represent three
things we take for granted every day. They are freedom, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness. They are three essential things in American life that attract people to our
country that make our picture stand out among the rest. That is why America is like a box
of crayons. America is about diversity and color. Without 
It we would be like anyone.
Feature 2
Have you ever had resentment against somebody that the animosity built up so bad inside
that you wanted to release all of you hostility on it? There is allot of people in this
repugnant world that have that same feeling, the feeling of agony and loathing when you
even hear the name of the person. The sickness feeling that you get when you are standing
around them or have to talk to them. The feeling you get when they walk into the room and
they make you want to leave. It is the feeling when you get all cold and you feel your
face scrunch up and you think that someone just killed your dog. It is the grudge that
you had against that person in eighth grade because they had better shoes than you did.
It comes from that repulsive kid in your class that won't leave you alone even thought
you don't talk to him. It is the horror of finding out that your girlfriend is pregnant
and it isn't yours. It comes after it's brother frustration and it will tear you apart.
It is anger and it is deadly. It will cause you to hate, hurt, and even kill people. It
is deadly. 
Interview with Thomas Jefferson:
Question: "Mr. Jefferson, is it true that you believe that slavery is wrong?"
Jefferson: "Yes I certainly do."
Question: "But isn't it true that own a few slaves yourself their sir"
Jefferson: "You are absolutely right. I believe that blacks are people, but aren't
noteworthy enough to socialize with whites."
Question: "Well moving along, how did you feel about your wife dying?"
Jefferson: "When my wife died it was all too much for me I couldn't take it, I moved to
Paris shortly after."
Question: "I'm very sorry Mr. Jefferson. Moving along. What year were you elected
president and who ran against you?"
Jefferson: "Well Mammon I was president from 1801-1809. I really cant recall who I ran
against, but all that matters is that I won!."
Question: "That's real nice Mr. Jefferson, but moving along now, Leading this article to
an end do you have any final words for Americans out their?"
Jefferson: "All I have to say is, you have the right to life ,liberty, and to the pursuit
of happiness, good day folks"
Inspirational war song
It's wintertime and the snow is blowing
Outside in these treacherous terrain's
And I don't know what I'm doing in this war
The hurt is always in my eyes
They shot up al my friends
And I'm protecting my own life
When I thought about my home
I wanna go
But I can never have that
I knew that before you did
Still I'm the one who's stupid
And there's those rich boys
Like there's always been
I've never been so alone
And they've never been so alive
This is a view during battle
Through my eyes
The shrapnel fly's in my eyes
Yet they don't mind,
No smiles.
Bibliography
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