Golden Gate Bridge-Personal Narrative

At that time, I felt like a rookie sky diver preparing for his first plunge. The cabin door opens to reveal the extreme distance of his fall, which leads to either sheer excitement or eventual death. The naivete that sheltered his fear disappears at the sudden reality of the moment. By then, of course, it is much too late to turn back. The very thought that this was his idea seems absurd to him, and he feels like the only person on the face of the planet. And so he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and

Several months ago, I remember that I was driving to a friend house. I was with my best friend and we both did not know how to get to the house. I've always been bad with directions, so I easily get lost. We opted to use the GPS, but for our luck there was bad signal. It was night and the house was in the field. We had to go through many curves without knowing where we were going. And here's where something happened that was horrible for us. We came to a bridge that was very dark and had not lampposts, so we could not see anything. I remember we look at each other very frightened, and suddenly came to our minds the famous story of the woman dressed in white who is waiting for someone to pass to enter the car and be taken to a certain place.

“Anna, after you take me home, where do you go?” I asked her pushing further, hoping she wouldn’t clam up. “Where do you go to wait out what might happen to you?”

Staring at the enclosed tennis backboard of the graffitied wall, it was my third consecutive morning there and i still didn't know what to make of it. “Hello, Brenda are you there?”, said my friend Miller as he abruptly strike me back to reality, “here its your turn, take a hit. And remember this time hold it in”. I've always felt i had an inner mystical esoteric view on life, suppressed by naive realism. I wanted to answer the great philosophical questions. So i tried marijuana.

I smiled lazily and took the blunt from Kay and inhaled for about three seconds before shutting my lips together and handing it to Jay. When it was too much for me to hold down, I exhaled softly and watched the white cloud of smoke join joining the rest of it. I coughed a little but stopped myself by completely having a coughing fit by taking a drink of my beer. The tangy bitter taste I love so much was once again in my mouth and running down my throat. This was life.

What makes a student a good student? Typically we may think about a book worm stuck away studying in the dark as the “A+” standard. However, is that really what it takes to prosper in education? I believe that being an educated and intelligent person goes beyond book work and requires oneself to be sociable, confident, accepting, and prepared to face challenges. Recently in my senior year I have learned more about myself, and looking at one event in particular, realized how my ability to break a racial divide has prepared me for life after high school.

Smiling is something I do very often and usually when I’m smiling I’m thinking about certain things that make me happy. Things like being in a lab, or when I have on my aunt lab coat. I enjoy being in a hospital being surrounded by others that enjoy what they do like: being a caregiver, a doctor, a friend. I get excited when I walk into a room full of medical instruments or a chemical lab. I like figuring out what chemicals can I mix together to form another chemical compound. Doing chemistry labs make me smile, because I get to be a chemist and create something new.

The year was 1910 , I just made it to the Golden Door in New York City . There were a tons of people , everywhere I turned I seen Italian , Greek , Slav , Russian , Jewish , East European , and even Armenian people . I then met a Jewish family that helped me get to The Office of the Superintendent of Immigration . Me and the family were approved and admitted after hours of waiting . Then I asked one of the officers where should I go now ? He told me I should head over to “ Ellis Island .” So me and the family followed the crowd of people to the New York Harbor , were we sat and waited for hours to get on the boat . When we abroad the boat , people were pushing and shoving to find a secure spot on the boat . Everything happened so fast that

Tunnel view can blind anyone too naive to make an attempt to break out of its lies. Focusing on what was just in front of me made it easier and at times although I hate to admit it, it made it enjoyable. It's like I never processed what was going on outside that tunnel of laughter. The tunnel of me being with my friends, staying up late, and doing anything but put my mind at rest. While this might seem to be about me having regretful nights in which I undermined my parents it is not. To be honest that probably would have made it a whole lot easier than the truth. The real story is about my grandma being diagnosed with cancer and while everyone seemed to have lived a different life during it this is my perspective.

The Golden Gate Bridge is the number one suicide site in the world. In this clinical case conference, the authors begin by presenting vignettes to capture the diversity of bridge suicide. They then examine the demo-graphic characteristics of those who commit suicide from the bridge as well as the fatal attraction of the Golden Gate Bridge. Interviews with jump survivors and potential jumpers are presented, and the authors examine the evidence for the efficacy of suicide barriers.

I consider myself a fairly perceptive person, but I guess it's easy to miss something you don't want to see. So now, here we stand, a pleading look on his face and a blank look on mine as he tries to convince me it was a one time thing, he'd never do it again, he didn't want to hurt me, etc, etc. And I want to believe him. I want to believe that him kissing someone who isn't me was all a big misunderstanding. I want to believe that this is the first time he's done this. I want to believe he'd never do it again.

Life is like a cross road, you can take different paths. Just like freshmen year when i had to either get passing grades to play football or not be eligible to play for bad grades.

A time like Gates father when I should have spoken up, but choose not to, was recently this summer when I was a summer intern at the "H. Carl Moultrie Superior Courthouse" in my hometown of Washington, D.C. I and all my co-workers were downstairs in the mail room and a man who works at the court building came in the office with an attitude. He was supposed to be removing the boxes in the Mail room because they weren't supposed to be in the mail room.When picking up the boxes he said, "you people should be picking up these boxes". Meaning "us" black people should be picking up the boxes and not him because he's caucasian . When the comment was made everybody in the office immediately, got offended one of my male co workers asked him what he

You spot to old lady sitting by the corner drinking her alcohol. You can tell she's heavily intoxicated. You approach her with a curious look on your face and ask politely. "Hey. remember me from earlier? Ummm...You gave me some pills and I was curious about something. Emm..What would happens if you mix the pill with other chemicals? Say....ummm Advil for example." You stand there calmly, waiting for her to sober up to answer your questions.

It was an eye opener to me as well! I never knew so many people used the Golden Gate bridge to escape their fears/problems. I wonder if the reason that they do seek out this bridge is because of how beautiful it is? Maybe it symbolizes how beautiful they wish their life was? Or how beautiful they once envisioned themselves? Or just maybe they wish to have their last vision of life, a one where you can see the sunset rising over the beautiful water? I believe that everyone has their different reasons for committing suicide whether they believe it is justified or not.