My frantic actions heightened my senses, mobilized my spirit. Cupping the bird, I ran outside, hoping the cool air outdoors would suture every wound, cause the bird to miraculously fly away. Yet there lay the bird in my hands, still gasping, still dying.
Bird, human, human, bird. What was the difference? Both were the same. But couldn't I do something? Hold the bird longer, de-claw the cat? I wanted to go to my bedroom, confine myself to tears, replay my memories, never come out.
The bird's warmth faded away. Its heartbeat slowed along with its breath. For a long time, I stared thoughtlessly at it, so still in my hands. Slowly, I dug a small hole in the black earth. As it disappeared under handfuls of dirt, my own heart grew stronger, my own breath more steady. Kari has passed. But you are alive. I am alive. I shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth and whoever finds me will kill me.
Luckily, it was a BB gun. But to this day, my older brother Jonathan does not know who shot him. And I have finally promised myself to confess this eleven year old secret to him after I write this essay. The truth is, I was always jealous of my brother. Our grandparents, with whom we lived as children in Daegu, a rural city in South Korea, showered my brother with endless accolades: he was bright, athletic, and charismatic.
To me, Jon was just cocky. Deep down I knew I had to get the chip off my shoulder. That is, until March 11th, Once we situated ourselves, our captain blew the pinkie whistle and the war began. My friend Min-young and I hid behind a willow tree, eagerly awaiting our orders. To tip the tide of the war, I had to kill their captain. We infiltrated the enemy lines, narrowly dodging each attack. I quickly pulled my clueless friend back into the bush.
Hearing us, the alarmed captain turned around: It was my brother. Startled, the Captain and his generals abandoned their post. Vengeance replaced my wish for heroism and I took off after the fleeing perpetrator. My eyes just gazed at the fleeing object; what should I do? I looked on as my shivering hand reached for the canister of BBs. The next second, I heard two shots followed by a cry. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes.
I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru. Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries.
I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge. Shelley E.
Margaret E. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. Martin E. New York: Free Press. ISBN Person-centered personality theory: Support from self-government theory and positive psychological science. Journal of Humanistic Psychology. The undoing consequence of positive emotions.
Motivation and Emotion. How to cite this essay Choose cite format:. He looks at me and squints his eyes against the sun. I wonder if he, too, has washed far away. High School: Suffield Academy College Plans: New York University My small body and head of curly hair trotted over to the refrigerator in search of some butter for my bread.
I shifted some cans of half-opened Goya beans and the remnant of a brick of dulce de leche that had seen better days. After much shuffling, I spotted the big brown container of margarine. To my dismay, it was filled with arroz con pollo. My eyes tightened and my stomach made Chewbacca noises. Maybe I could mash the dulce de leche on top of the bread. My finding was not a surprise. Rather it was lesson number 73 engraved within the book of Dominican-bred frugality.
Why buy 99 cent storage containers when the products we buy already provide them for free? These lessons came in Spanish with the speed of a bull in a bullring. It is a struggle for immigrant parents to successfully pass on values of frugality to their children while living in a developed country with a perceived flow of plenty.
For a child, things like magic, fairy tales, and free MacBook offers make it difficult to grasp the value of money and to quantify the struggles that some families face to make ends meet. The collective hope is that through hard work and a miracle, one ends up figuring out how to make five dollars out of five cents.
This fervor to be frugal and purposeful is something that was passed down to me much like some families pass down an obsession with monogramming or Thanksgiving Day traditions.
We started reusing and repurposing way before it was trendy. We made do with what we had and made what we had do more in order to awkwardly swim toward the Dominican American dream.
UPenn Supplement - Autobiography Robotics It moved timidly at first, its gears slowly churning as it felt the spark of life flow through its wires. Slowly, it turned, rotating on its treads, as it scanned the arena for any signs of movement. Its light sensors on the alert, it sensed that something was near.
It nudged forward as it felt its Day One "Take my advice, I've been here for a while. What did you do? Clarinets, Calluses, and Chemisty For as exclusive as it was, Copley's soloist room was rather simple, furnished with only a piano and a bench. It was narrow too: the architect must not have considered the consequences of claustrophobia before a solo performance. In any case, I took a seat on the bench and started to set up my clari Why Carnegie Mellon?
Perseverant, intelligent, and a problem solver. I would use these three words to describe myself and to say why I believe Carnegie Mellon University is the school where I would find the most success.
Carnegie Mellon has a rigorous academic environment and will allow me to reap the rewards of an educResource in Mind I only death myself to watch one movie in theatres every year. Although some people may view me as cheap, my frugal nature has been a strong source of my self-identity. Vagary I should have been on a train back college, hours ago. Instead, I was standing under the looming flicker of the departures board, weary of the about. Suitcases packed, stacked sample shipped, I had essay enough to escape.
The arroyo is bone-dry, littered with dented soda cans, beaten strips of tire and mud-stained garbage bags. He does not let me straddle the rift where the earth divides into repelling mounds of sand. Topics example of creative writing essay influence of media. Deep down I knew I had to get the chip off my shoulder.
Emotion wrestled with fact. Contract managed by relative of his mother, when younger than me feel a little.
Memberships, level of access for the members of committee is to craft a balanced, well, rounded application to business school in the future, and the adult. But you are alive. It violates human rights, which is why a growing number of people are against this type of punishment. Derogatory terms for gays, the disabled and people of color are shouted in the hallway, right over the heads of people to whom those refer.