College Admissions Essay-Personal Narcission

Standing here, I can taste the bitterness of minerals in the musty damp air. The air is moist and cool to the touch; I can almost see my breath as walk about the cavern. I am stopped in the center of the room just as the world around me becomes black. The lights have been shut down. I am enveloped in the blackness that surrounds me. I can feel my heart pound out of my chest, knowing that this is the truest black that I have ever experienced. As I adjust to my surroundings, I do not hear a single sound, or any noises at all. As time passes my senses heighten and I am able to feel a slight breeze across the nape of my neck. The moisture in the air coats the palms of my hands as I clench them together, turning my knuckles white. I start to hear the dripping of water as it pools onto the floor, along with the screeching of bats in the distance. A sense of calmness floods over me. Time seems to drag on, making seconds feel like hours. I begin to hear a faint buzz, then suddenly, and all at once light returns to every crevice of the cave. Details arise that were not apparent when I had first entered the cavern. The colors of the rocks are now more

The sky is terse as if it were painted cobalt blue, a hymn to life. I'm walking with uncertain steps to the TLC, wrapped in a woolen cloak like a witch fallen victim of her own spell. It's one of those days; a tiny homunculus of the caves, survived the ice age, is relentlessly punching my right eardrum. The view is blurred, and I can barely walk straight and conceal the anguish that overwhelms my reason whenever the damn caveman gets out of bed on the wrong side.

Watching the water glistening and shining was always so peaceful. Your arms rested upon an old wooden railing, which creaked with every movement. You leaned forward to watch a fish leap out of the water, flying into the air for a moment, before returning to the lake. As you heard the loud creaking of the railing, you tried to lean back, but before you knew it you’d lost your footing and felt yourself plunged into the lake’s depths, a scream escaping your lips before water surrounded you.

Standing there I can taste the bitterness of minerals in the musty damp air. The air is moist and cool to the touch, I can almost see my breath as walk about the cavern. I am stopped in the center of the room just as the world around me becomes black. All of the lights have been shut down. I am enveloped into the blackness that surrounds me. I can feel my heart pounding out of my chest, knowing that this is the truest black that I have ever experienced. As I adjust to my surroundings I don’t hear a single voice, or any noises at all. As time passes my senses heighten and I am able to feel a slight breeze across the nape of my neck. I can feel the moisture of the air on the palms of my hands as I clench them together turning my knuckles white. I start to hear the dripping of water as it pools onto the floor, along with the screeching of bats in the distance. A sense of calmness floods over me. Time seems to drag on making seconds feel like hours. I begin to hear a faint buzz, then suddenly, and all at once light returns to every crevice of the cave. Details arise that were not apparent when I had first entered the cavern. The colors of the rocks are now more

Jeff, I truly appreciate your post and would like to offer you my experiences with the narcissist and change within my business. I had a boss who was a narcissist but could not see it in himself even after given many examples. He truly had dreams of being in control of everything and wanted everyone to admire how smart he was (Kinicki & Fugate, pg. 444). I had met him prior to him becoming my boss and I knew he was a Naval Academy graduate and for some reason, in my experiences they are either really good, thinking of others before themselves or really bad and they are the ultra narcissist. In this case I inherited the later. His bragging about how smart he was and his need to micro-manage everything became old very fast. The examples given

Our group moves closer. Slabs of rock, the size of a car, replace the dense forest on either side. These slabs are made of steel grey layers stacked on top of each other, with green specks of moss covering them. Further ahead, the rough dirt path suddenly slopes downward, as if entering a deep cave. I see the bottom. A slab the size of a semi-truck is sunk into the ground. This semi-truck feels like it is made of sandpaper; it scrapes my hand as I hold it for support. The faint drone of conversation stops. Around me, the forest becomes quiet enough for every step to sound like thunder. I approach the entrance; inside it is as black as coal and what light enters appears to never leave. Here, I stand at the edge of an abyss: somehow darker than when I close my eyes, and somehow quieter than when I plug my ears. Yet in the black abyss I can see fear: the eight red eyes of a giant spider, the loose rock on the edge of a high cliff, and the realization of failure. The unknown surrounds me ahead, while light promises safety behind. I step forward. Inside the hole, the smell of grass and earth fade away. Darkness envelops me, a mask that forces me to navigate by touch. Within the boulder, the walls and floor feel as frigid and smooth

As I lay on my back I watched the leaves dance in the wind. I’ve lived in this grotto for years now, that I have forgotten what the outside world looks like. To others this place would look like a sanctuary with gorgeous green trees with fruits of every kind, vibrant coloured flowers, soft green grass and a sparkling lake, but to me this is prison cell that I can’t escape. Mountain high walls cage me in, making everything feel tiny and crushing any hope of freedom. I never knew how I got here. All I know is that went to sleep and woke up with giant walls surrounding my lake.

The span between the surface of the water and the top of the cliff was three hundred feet high. The profile of sharks could just barely be seen circling in the murky brown water. My toes hung off of the side of the cliff loosening pebbles from their resting place and sending them plummeting to the shark infested cauldron. My swimsuit seeped frigid droplets of water down my legs. When my friends shouted up to me their voices became whispers barely audible as the wind screamed across my ears. I felt as if I was about to collapse from anxiety.

“Just one more mile”. These words resonated throughout the confines of my mind, antagonistic to a conscience that only screamed for me to stop. Despite the cold winter air that promised only a world of agony in continuing my endeavor, my conviction to improve my physical endurance for the upcoming wrestling season far outweighed my fear of physical pain. With this conviction, I ran the dreaded sixth mile of my daily workout regimen. Although the strength training derived only from lifting weights at a gym would be ideal in conditioning my body for the wrestling season, gym membership was not so readily available for an individual like me, who came from a modest family of humble socioeconomic background that could not afford such a luxury. In spite

The youngest sibling Bradley had said he remembered how deep the valley went, “It was deep and scary looking straight over the edge and seeing it straight down to the bottom.” He had questioned how long it had taken to form after seeing the large scale of the canyon. I asked my other younger sibling Christian of his experience, “I couldn’t believe my eyes it looked fake.” I had remembered how my entire family had said the same the canyon being so unbelievable to compare to anything else our minds instantly tried telling us it was fake even though it was before our very

I’m tapping away at my iPhone’s screen during the announcements for the latest Interact windbreaker orders, fidgeting in fierce anticipation until the horrendously slow internet decides to load; several of my friends sit beside me in the auditorium in Raider Hall, and are too, maneuvering through their phones for their recently uploaded grades. This zeal is manifested by the fact that throughout my life, the importance of the academics had been imposed upon me, and inevitably, I succumbed to its rigorous demands. And as such, I hold a tendency to compare the product of my work to that of my peers. These peers, to say the least, interpreted the competitiveness as somewhat conceited.

I will admit I am too hard on myself. I am very industrious, and talk to a limited amount of people. I strive to excel in whatever my objective is to accomplish, but I've been described to put others before my own needs. How I would describe myself is to the point: I am impatient, industrious, loving, compassionate, hard working, excelling, willing to learn, and Godly.

Reaching out slowly I went to skim the top of the water with my long fingers, before I could make contact with the pool however, my long wavy ebony hair fell in front of my face. Plunging into the water. I held my breath in fearful anticipation, waiting for something to happen. I leaned over the pool watching as my black hair emerged deeper into the water. Strangely, no ripples danced across the water, and even stranger, the image of the door was even clear than before. Suddenly, I felt the grip my knees had in the soft pearly beach surrounding the intriguing pool begin to slip. Frantically, I waved my arms and tried to lean backwards to resist my imminent fall into the pool. It was to no avail however, for I was thrust into the cold water, robbing me of breath. I clawed for the surface, but a mysterious weight kept pulling me down into the unnatural deep pool. I let out a silent scream and opened my eyes ignoring the stinging pains of the cold salty water. The inky darkness I expected gaze upon in my final moments was not there however, instead an image of the door from before was all I could see. The picture multiplied and soon I was surrounded by doors upon doors, as if I was in a room full of mirrors, and I knew not what was real. My chest began to burn as the pressure on it increased and finally I could no longer deprive myself the instinct to breath any

From a young age, I have always been interested in sports and have been involved with many martial arts including taekwondo, kung fu, and Brazilian jiu-jitsu the later of which has become my love and passion. Even though I was involved with martial arts, by no means did I look physically in shape. When I was young, I was made fun of because of my size and weight. The constant teasing took a toll a on my psyche and, eventually, became my biggest insecurity. This insecurity became a huge shadow on my life and I began to notice that I let it define me: that I let it limit me and I used it as an excuse for my failures. Eventually, I decided that if I wanted to change how I looked then I would have to change my lifestyle. Instead of letting these

The boat sped up, and swiftly it drifted toward a dark, narrow tunnel. A nervous twitch ran through my body. I felt more comfortable being out in the wide open expanse, but in the tunnel, I couldn't anticipate what would lie ahead. I gripped the flashlight and shined it out in front of us as we immersed in the darkness. My breathing turned heavy. It was just as dark as the tunnel we had come through, only now I felt more vulnerable, having no control over the water’s current.