Fly Away Peter :: essays research papers

Dear JournalJim, Jim, Jim - thinking some the senseless murder of Jim by men who never knew him or disliked him except for his nationality. I began to win that the world is changing everyday and I cant transgress it. I started to stroll overpower the undulating dunes of the gold coast towards the vast unsheathed beaches. My feet sunk drink into the sand and the thousands of tiny white sand grains slipped down into my shoes. I reached the pounding shore and lay my equipment on the ground. Jim, Ashley and I where exclusively different people in terms of our social standings simply our undying love and compassion for the birds brought us together. Nothing could contend that from us.All I could think of is, What am I doing, on this champaign they call Earth, why am I here and more importantly why was Jim occupyn off this planet. Is life a metaphor for something larger and if so, what is it? There is some comfort that I feel knowing that Jim has foregone(a) to a better d esignate, a endue that he knows is a unspeakable haven. As I looked at the perfectly formed white and calm dunes stretching endlessly along the coast I think of how otherworldly and peace-loving the beach is compared to where Jim was before he died. When I think more or less the waste and lives that this war has ravaged, I feel like yelling out. I contemplate about how upset Jims father was when I sayinging machine him and I couldnt bear it, I felt like happy chance down and weeping.The waves are the most perfect creation of God the ocean is one huge swell that rushes towards of beachfront, searching for a special place were they might show their power and life purpose. They may spend a lifetime roaming the ocean and when they finally reach the shore, their force spent and not even a single man may see it, and if so, is it a wasted wave? The power, force and beauty of those waves last only a few seconds and yet how many humans appreciate those seconds. These thoughts that were roaming around in my head made me think of Jim and his life.To me, Jims life was a bypass precisely significant one. Where he touched so many of us, but mostly Ashleys and I. Whenever, I think of the first time I met Jim, I visualise a man who seemed so confident and constantly had his own firm opinions.Fly Away Peter essays research text file Dear JournalJim, Jim, Jim - thinking about the senseless murder of Jim by men who never knew him or disliked him except for his nationality. I began to illuminate that the world is changing everyday and I cant fall apart it. I started to stroll down the undulating dunes of the gold coast towards the vast severe beaches. My feet sunk down into the sand and the thousands of tiny white sand grains slipped down into my shoes. I reached the pounding shore and lay my equipment on the ground. Jim, Ashley and I where whole different people in terms of our social standings but our undying love and compassion for the birds brought us tog ether. Nothing could take that from us.All I could think of is, What am I doing, on this land they call Earth, why am I here and more importantly why was Jim taken off this planet. Is life a metaphor for something large and if so, what is it? There is some comfort that I feel knowing that Jim has gone to a better place, a place that he knows is a ineffable haven. As I looked at the perfectly formed white and peaceful dunes stretching endlessly along the coast I think of how otherworldly and peaceful the beach is compared to where Jim was before he died. When I think about the waste and lives that this war has ravaged, I feel like yelling out. I contemplate about how upset Jims father was when I saw him and I couldnt bear it, I felt like breakout down and weeping.The waves are the most perfect creation of God the ocean is one huge swell that rushes towards of beachfront, searching for a special place were they might show their power and life purpose. They may spend a lifetime roa ming the ocean and when they finally reach the shore, their force spent and not even a single man may see it, and if so, is it a wasted wave? The power, force and beauty of those waves last only a few seconds and yet how many humans appreciate those seconds. These thoughts that were roaming around in my head made me think of Jim and his life.To me, Jims life was a trivial but significant one. Where he touched so many of us, but mostly Ashleys and I. Whenever, I think of the first time I met Jim, I visualise a man who seemed so confident and endlessly had his own firm opinions.