Personal Essay - Original Writing

Now for why I write. I rarely write for fun, which probably should change for the better, but that is not unlike many. I write, when I have to write for school or any other academic activity. Writing interest for these assignments only goes as deep as the material or topic. If the topic is interesting I will be much more excited to write about it. With that being said, my least favorite part of writing is the writer's block that comes with a boring topic, really it is the bane of my writing. Now on to the actual writing. For me, free writing is hard to accomplish, I need directive. Book reports and detailed essays with directions are my favorite things to write because they give a good starting point for the beginning of the writing process.

Lacking experience in writing and reading, English is my most feared subject. It is the one and only vulnerable spot in my otherwise invincible academic armor. I hate writing and I despise reading. Other than magazines, I cannot recall reading anything since "The Crucible" which was a teacher assigned book in my sophomore high school English class. Not that I read a lot before that, I don't remember reading any books in my middle school years neither. Now, with this writing assignment since a long time, my brain feels like an old rusty engine of an 81 Porsche cranking up for the first time in years, readying to compete in the English 1A heat.<br><br>My parents and my favorite math teacher always told me that I'm a very bright individual

“Reading and writing, like everything else, improves with practice. And, of course, if there are no young readers and writers, there will shortly be no older ones. Literacy will be dead, and democracy - which many believe goes hand in hand with it - will be dead as well”(Margaret Atwood). Similarly to Margaret Atwood, I too have always understood and believed that with practice and years of experience my writing and reading comprehension would advance and that someday I would be able to write my thoughts in an intelligent and concise manner. Coming into freshman year I had the notion that writing was a tedious and unsatisfying process that had left me time and time again disappointed and frustrated in myself and honestly I feared english

When I started writing my first essay, I assumed I did everything correctly. I did have high expectation of getting an excellent paper, but on my writing, it had a weak body, improper punctuation , and misplaced ideas in my essay. As much this hurts me, I knew then I need more practice and correcting myself even more. I felt like my writing were more as like a high school essay than a professional college paper. All the teaching about how to write a descriptive, narrative, persuasive, or even write an expository during my high school years was a lie. I was taught the wrong idea from the start. I did learn to use other words, organize, and properly construct an essay. I have improve my ability of writer.

radio that she had a subject detained at Jack in the Box located at 524 A ST SE

As my first dialect is not English and I am here in school to secure my degree, I need to figure out how to write in a scholastic way. My dad may be the only individual who affected me to figure out how to compose whether in English or in my first dialect. A while ago when I was in center school, I usual to speak with companions by composing messages or letters. These days, we utilize innovation, for example, telephones to impart by talking. I seldom utilize composing to correspond with companions or gang. Previously, when I needed to express my dismal feelings, I used to correspond with my family in composing. Nonetheless, now I utilize Snap Chat and telephone calls. My shortcoming in composing is linguistic use,

It was a Tuesday afternoon and I was walking down the 8th grade hall between Mrs.Persinger and Mr.Kresky classroom. I was on my way to band in room 226. At the end of the hallway I spotted him, Bartholomew Raider smirking at me with his crooked yellow teeth. At that point I knew it was going to be an exceedingly lengthy long day. I tried to just put my hood over my head and act like I didn’t see him or I didn’t know he was there. I almost made it past him when he put his huge cumbersome foot in front of me and I tripped and fell on my head. I had the most annoying, painful, and huge headache in my life. Even worse than the one I had when I fell and my head jabbed the side of our coffee table in our old apartment. There was now a circle around us expecting a fight!

It is said that bragging makes you seem less impressive, if you are doing something worth bragging about, others will brag for you. However sometimes we have to impress others by talking about ourselves in order to be in the right place that we deserve. In this personal essay, I will try concluding and presenting myself as a suitable graduate student in a Radiobiological program, who for sure can have a seat in an American school funded by Fulbright.

i figured i might as well write back something. something more composed and put together. something better than just a bunch of emotions poorly leaking out through cheaper words.

The most influential event in my life was moving from Herriman to Draper. The move was accompanied with much sadness and frustration, but I have come to realize that the positive effects far outweigh the negative ones. The biggest result of the move ended up being the ward family we moved into. Other things I was able to do after the move were making friends and discovering many things that I could be passionate about.

School, to me and among many peers of my age, is not a distant term. I have spent one-third of my life time sitting in classrooms, every week since I was seven years old. After spending this much time in school, many things and experiences that happened there have left their mark in my memory. Some are small incidences while some have had a great impact on me. However, regardless the degree of significance, things that happened all contributed to shape the person that I am now.

We all like to pretend that we have control over our lives. Being in control makes us feel powerful, like we are ready for anything. With everything that goes on in the world we never can truly be in full control of our lives, but the moments that we felt we were in control are looked back as good times in our lives. Of course, it’s the moments where we lose control that stick with us the most.

There are three very important aspects that play a major rule in my life. They can be categorized as intellectual, social, and spiritual. My intellectual self is interesting because I am mainly right-brained which means that I tend to use my creativity more than my mathematical skills, also making me a visual learner. My social self consists of friends, family, and my surroundings. I spend most of my time at home with my family. Whenever I am with my friends, I observe their behaviors and listen to their opinions. I am more of an independent type of person. Being with different people has influenced me into appreciating different cultures and beliefs. I have learned things that have now been incorporated into my own set of beliefs and

Seven years ago, in the community of Point Clark, my family purchased a humble cottage that would become an essential influence in forming who I am today.

He told me to walk because it would save money and gas and that it was only a couple of blocks away. So I put two pairs of socks on, jeans, two jackets, and my muddy sneakers. I put my hood up and my head down. I walked along the cracked sidewalk with cars rushing by adding wind to my shivering body. I stared at my feet as each footstep had to have its own block of the sidewalk. I attempted to avoid stepping on any of the cracks just out of boredom, not out of superstition. I talked in my head about last night’s game, the blown calls and the bandwagon fans, and how my dad was going for the other team, as usual. After a while, I ended up thinking about why I chose to wear my red shirt. It’s weird how the mind can wander between two things that seemingly have no relation. Anyway, I eventually stopped thinking and looked up to observe my surrounding. Trees from both sides of the road seemed to be stretching out their limbs over the road, reaching across to the trees on the other side like lovers separated. The gray clouds visible through the branches of the arch of trees casted a shadow of death over the entire town. The dead leaves just lay there helpless, and the leaves that remained on the trees held on loosely. And then the wind blew, and leaves detached, floating down to join the dead. The leaves, once held up by the trees to be revered by all of nature, now had disappeared into the degradation of the