Personal Narrative: Beyond The Brain

Over my years of school, one big influence on me has always been sports. Ever since a young age, I have always enjoyed playing and watching sports. In my four years in high school, I have fell in love with the sport of lacrosse.

The stone was cold and I could feel the pain swelling up inside. I took a step towards the edge, I thought to myself, “One more step and the worries would end…” if only it was that easy.

The second day of my practice I felt that I had made some progress towards my goals of improving my time management and getting my documenting done earlier and providing relevant healing initiatives for my client.

Of course the norm for me is that of any citizen living in zone three.

When I was young my Dad would always remind me of how important these years as a kid are. He would always say watch how you act as a kid, for it will set the stage for the rest of your life. So many people I know ruined their lives when they were kids. This small, yet so important statement runs through my mind everyday. I love how everyone says they don’t care what people think of them, but I wish they knew how important it is to have a good image. I am not perfect, but I would like to be close as possible. But as Salvador Dali said “Have no fear of perfection, you’ll never reach it. “ The problem I see is everyone wanting to be someone that they are not. Sure, we all have our idols that we look

I quickly swallowed my homemade authentic Indian food leftovers and gulped down my chocolate milk. Looking down at my watch that read 11:28am, I knew that I only had two minutes until my most favorite part of the day: recess. This particular day in 5th grade, I had run a lap around the playground before getting the rest of recess to myself. As I started walking for my warmup, another student ran up and said, “My parents said that your people caused 9/11.” Completely caught off guard, I held back the tears in my eyes and tried to shake off his comment. I had never encountered something like this.

The brain-dead seldom seem like they’re dead. The rise and fall of their chests is so convincing, the ventilator seems like an ornament rather than the single source of oxygen that keeps their hearts beating. Their skin is warm to the touch, and condensation clings to the inside of the catheter from the fresh streams of body-temperature urine. Despite how peaceful they look, their bodies are undergoing progressive autolysis, utter and massive self-destruction. Without the helm of consciousness, my father and all of the patients in his section of the intensive care unit seemed adrift in a tiny boat on a wild, infinite sea – yet unconcerned about finding their way back to

Your evidence for DNA is the most practical and straight forward of all evidence. We all see parts of ourselves from both parents, as we see us and our parents, in our children. I look just like my mom with the exception of my dad’s complexion and hair type. My son baby pictures, look just like my mom, yet now he favors my dad more. I, myself, am completely an extrovert, with a very outgoing personality just as my mother is, whereas my father is just the opposite. My son is starting to take this trait from myself and my mom, easily seen in his never meeting a stranger, talkative, funny ways, as well as his mischievousness LOL.

Writing about myself is hard because I think too fast that my ideas are never in any kind of order let alone grammatically in order I can’t spell nor write as fast as I think, but what I can is so much more I can speak to you about anything I know and if I don’t know it becomes my goal to learn it and that is what thrives me in my career goals. I have a plan and then I have dreams; my plan is a more realistic version of my dreams and that is to become a research molecular biologist but my plan is to start school maybe finish after a masters be a teacher for a couple of years and then quit to get a PhD the real difference between these two thought processes is that I follow my dream and give flame fire and love to my

Any single human experience can only properly be judged by that human’s amount of dread or anticipation in it’s beginning or end.

The brain's default mode is when a person is not active or focuses on the present experience that is occurring. The default mode also occurs when the individual is thinking about others, thinking about themselves, remembering the past, and planning for the future. When people are mindful they are able to make better respond and decision in their life despite not being in default mode most of the time. An experience where I was aware I was in default mode is when in class and not putting attention. One day, about a week ago in math class I was so into my thoughts, that when I realize this I had missed a great portion of inequalities that day. However, I noticed that I was thinking about what happen yesterday on my show which is Degrassi on

Prompt 6: My favorite academic subject by far is psychology. I’ve always been intrigued by why people do what they do and once I started watching the TV show criminal minds, my interest sparked in psychology. The way they profile people and really give an understanding of human actions makes my brain wander off. So that inspired me to take regular psychology last year and take AP-Psychology this year. My first year in psychology really caught my eye because the material was relatable and the work was challenging. We wrote essays, had class discussions, and worked on public speaking. Participating in all of these helpful assignments has made me realize I love a good challenge and that public speaking is easy for me. So far in AP-Psychology,

There is a path laid out in front of me, made of individually carved out stones. All I know is, at the edge, lies the unknown. Embarking on this path means I will plunge headfirst, all in attempt to answer a simple question. But before I can begin, how did I start?

--The brain is wider than the sky*-- This was my problem ever since I was 5. As a child, growing up in a crippled country that was constantly reeling from new disasters it was difficult for my mind to tap into its creative impulses. Haiti— a nation that is strained in dealing with political issues, natural, and fabricated disasters became the first to add destabilizing images to my volatile brain. I was just a mere little girl when my world came tumbling down after hearing the first gunshots that struck the side of my house. Despite my mother’s efforts to shield me from unpleasant events; I was traumatized by the replaying images of former soldiers that returned as rebels to topple the government roamed our street with heavy machine guns and

The poem below is a byproduct of an early fall Friday morning spent relaxing outside of Hendershot's Coffee. While I sipped on my dark roast coffee, I witness many homeless gentlemen and women passing along on Prince Ave. After living in Augusta, Ga for ten years and participating in a church in the dead center of downtown, I was familiar with the homeless and usually never thought much into the subject. My mentality changed when a grey breaded man with his face tan from the long hours in the sun walked passed me. I had never experienced such a disclosure of sadness radiate off a human being. And as he swiftly escaped from my view, the name Tim resided in my mind from the name tag on the right breast pocket of his shirt. My poem The Evolution