Even as I came back to the real you (you were more awkward and distant than I had imagined in the dream) and like last year, you once again overwhelmed me with commitments and essays and tests, the idea never ceased manifesting itself in my mind. Thus, when I saw an opportunity to make the dream a reality by signing up for a winter art FSA, I didn’t hesitate to seize it. I typed on my application: “The purpose of my winter art
I awoke to the sound of the baby monitor crackling with a voice comforting my first born child. As I adjusted to a new position, my arm brushed against my wife, sleeping next to me. I sat up listening intently to the monitor. I go a sinking feeling in my stomach. Before I did anything I tried to make out who it was. I didn’t want to do anything I would regret. The voice didn’t sound familiar to me. Immediately I get out of bed and go to my baby. As I’m walking towards her nursery, the women’s voice
When I was in fourth grade I became really close to my grandpa. He would teach me life skills and how to be just an all around good person. In the summer after fourth grade I would ride my bike to his house every day just to see him and to learn more. We would go fishing and he would teach me how to catch a fish gut it and clean it for dinner. We would keep them in the freezer and wait till we had enough for the whole family at Sunday dinner. It wasn't very often that we had it for dinner I think
Name: Keshab Dhimal Instructor: J. Troncale Course: ENL 211 Date: 10/02/2015 Narrative Essay A famous quote says, ‘”Everything is hard before it becomes easy”. I believe this is true because learning something new is not always an easy task. When I was in middle school in my country, Nepal, one of the most difficult tasks I had ever done in my life was learn how to swim. I thought swimming was one of the important forms of exercise to help me to remain physically fit; however, I was always scared
Waking up to the sunlight streaming through the raggedy curtains, Evelyn pried her sleep deprived eyes open and stumbled into the nearest bathroom she could find. Splashing cold water onto her face, she looked at the mirror startled to see the unrecognizable figure that looked back at her. Ugh, she thought, so this is what twenty four hours on a plane does to you. Her long brown hair was sticking out in every direction; with clumps of knots threatening to consume any comb that would dare to brush
It was around 1am in the morning, I should be sleeping, instead I was surfing the internet. The only sign of light came from my computer screen, scrolling through sundry links that can go on forever, my attention was snatched away by a virtual website that would soon open up a new part of me. “What is this?” I spoke quietly in curiosity. I clicked the blue link and destroyed my curiosity, intrigued by the pixelated characters, I was far too young for this site, although, I signed up anyways. I
"Strive. Rise. Thrive." As an Alaskan Native engineering college student, this motto resonates with me. From the time I was a child, my family had high expectations, and they taught me to set goals--to strive for excellence. Of course, there were times when obstacles appeared, and I had to figure out how to overcome them to continue on the road to achieve my goals. It is through these experiences that I discovered I thrive when I am given responsibility. For example, being a class president for my
Hieroglyphic (Nonfiction) I was sweating through every orphus of my body.The humid,hot,and sticky summer air was definitely getting to me, making my pale skin flush a slight cherry color carrying boxes upon boxes.My grandparents were having a yard sale,and of course, the family had to pitch in and help. ”Ava,grab that would you?” My grandmother asked directing to the box filled with random old dusty trinkets that smelled of mothballs and old books.
At our summer Kairos training meeting, our leader told us about how she was stressed out for the majority of the past year. She realized her all the stress that was building up inside of her was due to the fact that she had not cried in a while. It was not until she shared this story that I realized I have not cried in a long time. For me crying was a burden, or something to avoid because I usually was the one being cried on not the other way around. But something happened, actually a lot of things
“In a high speed chase, suspect on a black motorcycle, we are going 110 miles per hour.” Silence… Crash! Bang! Clash! In the middle of the intersection laid my dad, a police officer, and a criminal. As both men hit the scorching hot concrete, the criminal tried to flee the scene of the accident, but my dad used all of the strength he had left to pull out his Taser and take him down. By the time, the first responding officers arrived on the scene my dad laid unresponsive; the officers called