Descriptive Essay : My Head

The weather cleared up and me, along with my entire class and teachers, got to enjoy a beautiful ceremony. Lining up we started to proceed out to the football stadium from the gymnasium, my mind would not stop thinking. I just could not stop remembering what it took for me to get to this day. The stress that I endured studying for the SAT, filling out my applications and most importantly, perfecting my essay. The idea that I was not going to be living in this beautiful town I have spent my life in, brought a flood of emotions. Thoughts of my friends not being by my side next year made me feel as if I was sinking into a deep hole; this place, this town has had so much to offer to me. The past two years that I had spent in this place were the most emotional and exciting times of my life. I knew even though I was not going to be waking up in my familiar place anymore, I would be waking up in what was to become my new familiar place. I knew that even though my friends would not physically be there with me every day, that they would be there when I called them. If it were not for all of the people I have met along the way, I do not think I would have ended up where I am today. It just is a common thought for whenever I get sad about everything ending, I remind myself that there is a new beginning coming and it is going to be amazing. The place that I have spent my whole life

I walked into the building in front of me, not wanting to interact with anyone, even my singing instructor, Shauna. Shauna greeted me with a smile, and we headed back to her lesson room. I scanned over the colorful binders on her bookshelf, trying to find a good song to sing. Finally, I settled on a song from one of my favorite musicals, and we got started. Soon, I lost myself in the song and all of the negative feelings from before melted away. By the end of the lesson, I was energized and smiling. My miserable day was a little more bearable, and instead of feeling overwhelmed, I felt ready to take on the challenges that I was facing.

Traveling is one of my family’s favorite things to do. The family has visited numerous places throughout the United States, however, none are as memorable as Atlanta, Georgia. In Atlanta, there are many places to go and sights to see such as: Cola-cola factory, Cabbage Patch Kids Factory, Under Ground Mall, the Zoo, Atlanta Braves Stadium, Six Flags Over Georgia, Stone Mountain Park, and the Atlanta Aquarium, are all in or near the city of Atlanta. The three that we visit on every trip to Atlanta are Six Flags, Stone Mountain, and the Atlanta Aquarium.

There’s no one to talk to... I hate this place. The smell, the silence, the way that time hangs in the air catalyses my irritation. I scream yet no one hears. I question but no one answers. I’m just waiting for the day I die and no one finds me. I guess I won’t be there to enjoy that.

While walking through the enormous open-gated entry, I glanced down at the freshly printed orange stamp on my hand and smiled to myself. Happy to be back, even though it was sweltering hot, I could not wait for the gut-wrenching fun I was about to enjoy. There seemed to be an ocean of enormous rides set out in front of me. All were shiny and carried the bright colors of the rainbow. Some towered above the rest, reaching great heights within the sky. I could hear the cheerful laughter of children at the carousel, their parents gleefully taking pictures, and the terrified screams of those being swung into the air by monstrous roller coasters.

This painting portrays Kahlo's two different personalities: traditional and modern Kahlo. The two are holding hands and are both sitting next to one another. The traditional

She is small and sharp and angular. Her elbows hurt when they're pressed tightly against you and her small fingers dig into your sides. She rests her chin on your shoulder and it sinks into you. Her fingers are flat- but you always remember them flatter than they are. In your mind, they are a 2D part of her. Her hair looks as if someone set it aflame. It reminds you of October, of the orange, crisp leaves. While you are in no way overweight, you are definitely softer than her. Her hands are delicate, you’re always afraid you’ll crush them, so you hold her hand loosely. You can’t decide what color her eyes are. At first, they seem blue, but the next time you see her you could swear they’re green, and occasionally they look a stormy grey.

It felt nice, the fresh breeze of air as I jogged down a desolate park during the night time. It wasn’t a good day, so it felt nice to have the moon in full view over me as I vented my frustrations in each step I took. Suddenly, I heard crying. I took an earbud out, no longer hearing Taylor Swift, and the crying was louder than ever. Bewildered, I looked around for a moment as I suddenly noticed a few feet away on a bench, a girl was crying. I squinted for a bit, trying to see her clearly in the darkness. Immediately, I noticed she was young. I saw she was rather skinny, somewhat tall thought that could be deceiving as she was sitting down, and was wearing a crop top that showed off her belly and displayed a low V-neck with shorts that clearly showed off her features. She had on stockings, and I could see her shoes were next to her, 3 inch heels that looked clearly painful as she was massaging her feet for the moment on the bench, tears streaming down her face as she was looking down. I approached for a moment, “Hey.”. She jumped, startled by the apparent hello, and looked up to find me approaching her, as I quickly held up my hands, to show I meant no harm. There was an awkward silence for a moment, as we stared at each other for a moment, as I’d calmly take one step after another towards the bench, my mind racing and my heart aching as I felt I needed to confirm my worst thoughts. I was finally able to sit next to her, I didn’t look at her yet though, as she was still

My hands start to shake as I step into the ice arena. I can’t tell if I’m nervous or just freezing. The ceiling is decorated with annoying pink and yellow streamers. Seems to be right up Susan’s alley. Susan was a friend I wasn’t used to having. She was one of the most popular girls in school and liked by other peers. Today, however, her persona was more timid and worrisome than usual. I turn my gaze towards her hands fidgeting on her shirt and look up to see her eyes with regret. Skating over to lighten her mood, her mouth forms the words “I’m so sorry”. What did she do? Especially to me? It was her birthday and I definitely did not want to spoil that. Susan grips my arm and pulls me over to the frosty hand rail. With big puffs of breath, she mutters “Please don’t get mad at me, but Aila was invited to the party”. I could feel my breathing getting short and my cheeks rosy and hot. No matter what Susan said or did, nothing could make up for inviting someone who has it out for me.

There he was, walking into my fourth period class with a smirk on his face, and an outfit that screamed that he was cowboy. I, for one was not the type of girl to fall head over heels for a guy, but something about him stood out from the rest of the male population of the school. He seemed like the respectable type one could take home to their parents without them disapproving. His looks took hold of me and held me as if the image of his visage could never be erased from my mind. Never have I seen a more perfect person in my entire existence.

The sun sparkled in like a kaleidoscope of light, spinning, hazy. The grass was warm underneath my bare feet, tickling up between my toes. The breeze tossed my bleach blonde curls around, keeping the temperature at a perfect degree. It had to had been mid-seventies with a slight humidity, the kind of weather that draws a person outside to bask in the sun, to frolic in the breeze, to enjoy the nature in front of them. The sun hid behind a perfectly cloud scattered sky. The plump objects transformed into the creatures of my imagination. The lake reflected the worlds psychedelic colors, mystic and free. Just there, across the lane from my palace, dwelled a magnificent floating spiral island. A place only known to my father, little sister and I. Although I was only four, I understood its secrets. The island was magical, including everything that surrounded it. We lived in a hidden area that only the chosen could find.

The saxophone jazz and chatter from inside creepily faded into the dark streets. I was lurking outside the bar and quickly pacing back and forth against the window. I looked up and down the empty and dark street before quickly pausing to stare into the bar window. The room glowed between the broken blinds. I searched carefully, standing on my toes to see the full expanse of the room. People were dancing against each other, laughing and spilling drinks. Everyone orbited around a band in the middle of the room, as they swung their instruments creating sultry jazz. My eyes landed on a girl sitting alone, her body almost entirely eclipsed by shadows and creepy red glows. I stole looks, my wet eyes tracing down her body and through her shining hair, hypnotized by the lights trailing across her glowing skin. I chewed harder at the soggy toothpick I held in my lips. Suddenly, I saw a pair of shadows cross the window towards the door and instantly I turned my back and leaned against the window, reaching for a box of camels in my jean pocket. The bar door shuddered open and jazz escaped into the streets until the door crashed shut behind them. A laughing couple stumbled out of the darkness and into the flickering streetlight. From the shadows, I watched them closely, bringing a dry cigarette to my lips. I flicked a lighter and cuffed a hand around the flame. With a sizzle, the orange flame weakly illuminated my hungry eyes as they followed the drunken couple down the street. The

By mid-morning it was blistering hot outside. The metal box of a train car meant even higher temperatures inside the non-air-conditioned box car. The camels didn’t seem to mind but I was about to wilt. We were nearly to Huntsville when the train stopped again. Across the tracks from where we stopped an older man stood watering his flowers. Water never looked so cool and inviting as it did that hot Summer morning. I must not have been the only one the water called to as at about the same time, as if on cue, a half a dozen of us hopped off the train and ran over to where the water bearer was standing. One of us asked if we could borrow his hose. He replied with a smile and handed it over, laughing as we doused ourselves and each other with the cool liquid. Holding the hose over my head, I first tensed from the shock of the cold water hitting my head then relaxed as it ran down my body, quenching my parched skin. Thankfully, our train waited just long enough for us to get some relief before jolting awake. Thanking our anonymous friend, I handed him the hose as we all ran back to our silver carriage, waving as we pulled away. I’ve often wondered what he thought about that day. Did he tell the story about the time the circus train stopped at his house to have a water party?

I'm going to describe a girl for you, try to keep up. Long light brown hair, vintage classy glasses, one lonely dimple on the lower part of her mouth, soft pale skin, stone cold stare, and a dry sense of humor. Can you picture her? Well if you can, then you’ve basically just met me. I usually try to force a smile, wait no scratch that– I used to try to force a smile. Now I'm not saying this so that you can view me as unhappy or negative, but in all fairness who has a smile as their natural way of expression. By all means, my personality, interests, and hobbies are the fundamental building blocks to the life I choose to live.

I restore and rebuild cars and find myself tangled in the use of appropriate English to explain a process I use for specific situations. It takes a lot of time to explain the whole process, so I decided one night to make my own word to describe the process. The word I created explains the process. I was inspired by a book titled Frindle written by Andrew Clements that I read in elementary school. In my research I discovered many ways that new words can be created. These ways are the randomizer approach, making a noun have a new, different twist, and turning objects into verbs. I think everybody should know these three methods, so they too can make their own word or words to contribute to the English language.