OUNCE AND INK ADDONS Page Break PROLOG Unlock the boundary hidden in life; acknowledge hardship and configure a will to contain a triumph. Attempt a subtle approach; use caution of word and your word spoken. Live and notice the beauty of today and mystery of tomorrow. Page Break THE NEXT FOUR POEMS FOR CH:5 Search Page Break Dragonfly Arachnid wing Hear thief sing_
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got more sleep and slept better. Getting up early can be quite a hassle. The second suggestion is that we should get more study hall time or have more study hall blocks. This will give not only students, but teachers, more time to do their work and plan things accordingly. Everyone could use some more preparation time! Another suggestion is to give less homework, tests,
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sighed when I looked at myself in the mirror, my dark circles and bags made me look older than 17, and the watery slightly bloodshot eyes made me look high, “great” I believe people when they say they need beauty sleep a good night's rest is the key to good looks and I for one do not sleep .I sighed.
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Cami Collins It was finally time, our family camping trip, you know the one that my family takes every year right after the last day of school. By the time we got to the campground, it was foggy and dark plus there were not many things to do. When we were all done unpacking our stuff out of the car and into the cabin we already missed the campfire. My mom, dad, brother, and I went to bed so we could get up early the next day. “What are we going to do tomorrow?” My annoying little brother Colby yelled
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In my life, I surely must have experienced multiple nightmares, those unavoidable terrors that spring from the fears we met in our everyday life. However, now as I have grown, there is only a singular nightmare I can still recall in detail. (Reflecting on it now, some part of me scoffs at how my young self managed to find such a dream to be a nightmare, but upon deeper thought, I now understand that though my fear was not traditional in the way of that which comes with most nightmares that I have
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Waking up in the morning in my warm bed so comfortable it feels like i’m laying on a cloud. The sound of drums in a distance and the guitar and bass playing soothing rhythms. While the vocalist sings with all his breathe bringing all the instruments together in harmony. I slowly get out of bed to the time of the tune. The music controlling my movement as I walk to the living room where it is playing. I get stuck in the music's’ spell and start to lipsing and air guitar. I did that when was little
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Bed-wetting is a natural part of childhood development. Twenty percent of 5-year-olds and 10 percent of 6-year-olds wet the bed, according to the American Academy of Pediatrics. Also, it is as common in boys as it is in girls. Bed-wetting is also known as “enuresis”, and is rarely an emotional or psychological problem. It is not that the child is too stubborn or lazy to get up to use the restroom either. Researchers have found that genes play a role in bed-wetting. If both parents wet their beds
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Astrid was freezing, sore and aching from the hour or two of uneasy sleep she had managed to get. Roused out of sleep with Erik's enormous foot prodding her stomach, she jerked awake, memories of what happened and where she was replacing whatever escape her dreams had allowed. She did her best to wrap the furs around her slight form, tightening her belt and insuring her small pouch was still there with it's hidden treasure. The morning fog blanketed their camp as of yet, though sounds of everyone
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bag. I fill my water bottle and grab extra waters to put in my book bag. By now it’s about 6:40 so I just walk around for another 5 minutes to make sure I don’t forget anything. I turn off the light and lay back down on my bed I either go back to sleep or I stay on my phone until 6:57. I get up grab my jacket out the closet, say bye to my parents and I walk out the door. When I get on the porch if it didn’t rain I sit down on the porch or I stand up facing the door so that the cold wind won’t be
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Henry, had remarried to another woman when my mother, Sarah, had died. I was not eager to have a new mother, but father was happy. That makes me cheerful as well. “It is time to go to sleep, Jack,” my stepmother, Dorothea, said. “I am not tired yet,” I moaned. “Now, a thirteen year old boy like you needs his sleep.” “Fine, but could you tell me a story if you do not mind, Dorothea.” “You know you can call me mother if you would like, and I would love to give you a bedtime story.” I hopped into
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