Fly Away Peter :: essays research papers

Dear Journal Jim, 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 realise that the world is changing everyday and I can’t stop it. I started to stroll down the undulating dunes of the gold coast towards the vast desolate 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 completely different people in terms of our social standing’s but our undying love and compassion for the birds brought us together. Nothing could take that from us. All I could think of is, â€Å"What am I doing,† on this sphere they call Earth, â€Å"why am I here† and more importantly why was Jim taken off this planet. Is life a metaphor for something bigger 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 sacred haven. As I looked at the perfectly formed white and peaceful dunes stretching endlessly along the coast I think of how transcendental 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 Jim’s father was when I saw him and I couldn’t bear it, I felt like breaking down and weeping.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  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, Jim’s life was a short but significant one. Where he touched so many of us, but mostly Ashley’s and I. Whenever, I think of the first time I met Jim, I visualise a man who seemed so confident and always had his own firm opinions. Fly Away Peter :: essays research papers Dear Journal Jim, 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 realise that the world is changing everyday and I can’t stop it. I started to stroll down the undulating dunes of the gold coast towards the vast desolate 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 completely different people in terms of our social standing’s but our undying love and compassion for the birds brought us together. Nothing could take that from us. All I could think of is, â€Å"What am I doing,† on this sphere they call Earth, â€Å"why am I here† and more importantly why was Jim taken off this planet. Is life a metaphor for something bigger 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 sacred haven. As I looked at the perfectly formed white and peaceful dunes stretching endlessly along the coast I think of how transcendental 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 Jim’s father was when I saw him and I couldn’t bear it, I felt like breaking down and weeping.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  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, Jim’s life was a short but significant one. Where he touched so many of us, but mostly Ashley’s and I. Whenever, I think of the first time I met Jim, I visualise a man who seemed so confident and always had his own firm opinions.