Entry1_Nguyen Ngoc Tram

by Critical Thinking 10e14 on Thursday, February 2, 2012 at 1:39pm ·

Item 1

Different

by Vincen Tabatha 

How are we so "different"?

If "different" is just a thing.

If we all have certain features,

What does "different" bring?

People filled with hatred,

Can't possibly see,

That there's not really "differences"

Between you and me.

Looks can't show "difference",

If they're just there to be seen.

If you don't look like someone else,

Why are they so mean?

If being "different" is what is wrong,

I'd rather not be right.

And I'd want to finish living,

Doing the "different" fight.

Visit from: http://100-poems.com/poems/life/

Identification of messages:

   + No one person can totally be like another person. It's ok to feel self-conscious at times, but don't start to hate yourself or come down hard on yourself  because you're 'different'. The person to dislike are the people that tell you it's bad to be different. Individuality is a good thing. Individuality is what runs this world.

    + The poem speaks out what alot of people who accept each other as they are, rather than looking at the differences in colour or religions or in opinions and ways of doing things. I'm one of those persons and the poem speaks that out for me. It's a very beautiful poem and I wish a lot of people could be more a ware of this issue.

    + This poem makes alot of sense. It actually opens up your eyes and lets you look at "different" in a whole "different" perspective.

Item 2

The Mask

by Wolfgirl

A mask of plastic happiness often covers her sadness Her beliefs hidden from most Afraid of, but willing to face the unknown Wondering where her place is in this life She has come close to sharing herself Never completely revealing anything to anyone Feelings of invisible chains corner her When she dreams, reality shatters before her very eyes Accomplishments she strives for just at hands grasp She feels lost sometimes, not yet finding her notch in this world At times the glimmer in her calm eyes slowly disappears But within her heart a silent flame burns her inside and out She roams day by day, playing roles Strength unknowingly resides in her History repeats itself once again The translucent veil she so proudly wears Little by little answers will come, pushing it aside One day there will be no more mask for her to wear One day her beliefs will be known One day she'll know her place in this life One day she will share herself ONE DAY this mask will be NO MORE

Visit from: http://100-poems.com/poems/life/0655001.htm

Identification of messages:

  + the poems is about a girl who wearing mask to hide who really she is. She does not want to show her emotional  to other people. Moreover, each person have their own mask. There ia a side of ours that we do not want to let others know.

 + The dream of a girl who desire to escape from her own mask.

Item 3

 THE 4 WIVES

There was a rich merchant who had 4 wives. He loved the 4th wife the most and adorned her with rich robes and treated her to delicacies. He took great care of her and gave her nothing but the best.

He also loved the 3rd wife very much. He's very proud of her and always wanted to show off her to his friends. However, the merchant is always in great fear that she might run away with some other men.

He too, loved his 2nd wife. She is a very considerate person, always patient and in fact is the merchant's confidante. Whenever the merchant faced some problems, he always turned to his 2nd wife and she would always help him out and tide him through difficult times.

Now, the merchant's 1st wife is a very loyal partner and has made great contributions in maintaining his wealth and business as well as taking care of the household. However, the merchant did not love the first wife and although she loved him deeply, he hardly took notice of her.

One day, the merchant fell ill. Before long, he knew that he was going to die soon. He thought of his luxurious life and told himself, "Now I have 4 wives with me. But when I die, I'll be alone. How lonely I'll be!"

Thus, he asked the 4th wife, "I loved you most, endowed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?" "No way!" replied the 4th wife and she walked away without another word.

The answer cut like a sharp knife right into the merchant's heart. The sad merchant then asked the 3rd wife, "I have loved you so much for all my life. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?" "No!" replied the 3rd wife. "Life is so good over here! I'm going to remarry when you die!" The merchant's heart sank and turned cold.

He then asked the 2nd wife, "I always turned to you for help and you've always helped me out. Now I need your help again. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?" "I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!" replied the 2nd wife. "At the very most, I can only send you to your grave." The answer came like a bolt of thunder and the merchant was devastated.

Then a voice called out : "I'll leave with you. I'll follow you no matter where you go." The merchant looked up and there was his first wife. She was so skinny, almost like she suffered from malnutrition. Greatly grieved, the merchant said, "I should have taken much better care of you while I could have !"

Visit from: http://www.indianchild.com/short_stories.htm

Identification of messages:

   Actually, we all have 4 wives in our lives

+ The 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making it look good, it'll leave us when we die.

+  Our 3rd wife ? Our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, they all go to others.

+  The 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how close they had been there for us when we're alive, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave.

+ The 1st wife is in fact our soul, often neglected in our pursuit of material, wealth and sensual pleasure.

→ The 1st wife is actually the only thing that follows us wherever we go. Perhaps it's a good idea to cultivate and strengthen it now rather than to wait until we're on our deathbed to lament.