Personal Narrative: Starting Over

At the age of nine, I watched my uncles lowering my father into the ground and what took his life was addiction. All my life I have watched addiction take over the lives of people, I love. My father's side of the family, besides my grandparents, has always faced addiction. Although, addiction runs through my blood, I will not take the same path I have watched people take all my life. I will be the one to end the cycle. Watching the majority of my family waste their life has motivated me to change the direction and better myself from living a life of addiction and misery.

Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.

Hi iam Edgardo Flores i was born in casa grande, az not that far away from our state capital,Phoenix, Az.theres nothing better to do in a hot summer than going out with the friends to a lake and have a blast riding jet skis boats and my favorite, swimming!My activites of the day are shooting,riding horses,and my favorite one is quad riding.Thats right! ive been doing these fun exciting hobbies since i was 9 years old.pretty young huh?

I want to leave, I want to disappear. Not a vacation, but that spontaneous quick escape with no bothers, just an unrestricted trip to free the mind and enjoy the bits of silence. To go by car to see how the scenery around me changes as I kill the distance, while listening to my favorite music as loud as I can. Just shout out my lungs with my terrible singing. As the music plays, I will grab a book, which will get all my beliefs and views away. No matter what the book will be about. As long as it would get me away, away from here. There would be just me and the characters of the novel, who struggle, fight, and compete, while they face delight, pleasure, and glory. Every so often, I will stop at the cafes on the road to grab some food, which

I have been in the Marine Corps for roughly three and a half years and throughout that time I have done many things. Most of the things that I have done were with Combat Logistics Battalion 26. For three years, I worked with that unit through work ups and a deployment and I have seen and done many unique things. However, nothing I did with CLB 26 felt fulfilling, but that all changed when I changed units to CLB 8.

Throughout the conversation, Susan did not inform me that the home was still in First Look and not open to investors at this time. Susan did not highlight any features of the home, nor did she talk about the neighborhood or the surrounding area. When asked, Susan paused to reference the property file and stated, "In looking at the pictures it appears that it needs interior paint, carpet, appliances, and a few windows, which the previous seller must have taken." She stated, "I don't know why they have to remove things from the homes." I asked, "Do you have offers?" She paused to check the property file and answered, "No offers." I asked, "Is the property behind the home farmland?" She paused to reference the property file and replied, "It appears

My friend ,Kendrick, is diligent and self-sufficent.He gives his best effort at everything that he does.One time Kendrick and I were at school walking to the cafeteria to have lunch. Before we opened the door to enter ,we was stopped by Mr.Douglas. Mr.Douglas was Kendrick's R.O.T.C instructor who had a high rank as sergeant major. He stopped us to talk to Kendrick about some important R.O.T.C business.

Day One: Where to start? No one reading this diary is going to believe me. I still wish I lived in Oak City. Everything felt different when I woke up, I really thought it was going to be a normal day; you know, going to work, coming home, watching T.V.-just normal. It wasn’t until I looked outside…and… everyone was dead.

Home is the beginning of one’s book. It is where your story begins, forms its characters, shows its purpose, and reveals its ora. This is how mine is written. Home is on the buzzing highway down a bumpy gravel road. It’s Brandon, Mississippi. It is the only home I’ve ever known. Home is the smell of homemade biscuits and tomato gravy on Saturday mornings. It is “Bless Your Heart” and “Yes Mam” and “No Sir”. The little bedroom in the back of a grey double-wide where Carrie Underwood songs played and where I learned to curl my hair and put on mascara. My cousins and I running around with mason jars, chasing the lightning bugs. Bar-B-q on the back porch and never meeting a stranger. It is the morals learned and the identity

“This is a great experience, you’ll make so many new friends!” my parents told me excitedly

I remember waking up everyday to my brothers voice as if the sound of it was an alarm clock going off everyday when i heard it i knew the day was starting. We had something new to do everyday whether it be us being lazy all day and staying inside or go outside and be the young reckless boys we should be. With him there was never a dull moment it was always constant smiling and happiness throughout the years we grew closer had the same interests he was my best friend. We had our ups and downs as does everyone but we always found a way to come back together and make the situations right again. We as brothers went through alot together throughout our younger years from moving to another state, into new schools with new people. We both fit in fine

culture. As a business student, I am no less influenced by money than the next

I hereby tender my request for my listener account to be deleted, immutably. Not deactivated, not put on hold, not suspended. I am well aware of my options, and trust me when I say that it is only after careful consideration and painstaking deliberation, that I arrive at this conclusion. Long, dreary nights spent agonising over which one is the right one ; which is the best possible outcome, under these set of circumstances? At this juncture in my life, what do I have to do, what do I need to do, what should I do? So many options, so many variables, so much room for error … a careless oversight, a lapse in judgement, a fatal miscalculation … that is all it would take to spell disaster. I would never forgive myself.

Moving on, again westward, I was looking for a panel that I'd wanted to find for several years. I had written down clues I found in blog posts and forum trip reports, looked at maps for likely places and spent far too much time on Google Earth. I was pretty confident this time. The dogs and I started off up the steep slope to where I thought it was, this asthmatic flatlander and her flatlander dogs sucking wind as we went. After a bit of searching, I decided I was thwarted again, which was fine - the view was pretty fantastic and it gave me another reason to visit the area and explore more next

Waking up my head is throbbing. I groan and gradually start to get up. Realizing I’m in my room, I become perplexed as to how I got here. The last thing I remember is going out to meet my friends. That was around 8 pm and now, glancing at the clock, it’s 9:16, meaning I don’t know what has happened for a little over 13 hours. My next inclination is to check my phone. Knowing myself, I would have probably talked to someone if anything serious happened. Looking towards the direction of my charger, I see my phone is there. Even my blackout self knows how to properly handle my phone.