Persuasive Essay : What If I Fall Through The World

The first thing you felt was the softness of something beneath you, and the warmness of what you assumed was sunlight on your tan skin. Sitting up very slowly, you examined the space around you to find what was so soft below your outstretched legs. Golden flowers grew out of the cracked stone ground, shining a yellowish hue that seemed to make them even more beautiful than they already were. The sunlight that lit up part of the room you were currently residing in came from a distant hole in the rocky roof hanging high above you. Groggily, you stood up.

“Why do you climb?” Four words; four syllables; one question that I’ve heard a countless number of times; one question that I never knew how to answer. (Antithesis) Climbing is a sport that is performed in most corners of the world; it’s objective is to develop and carry out a method of ascending a rock face, be it with tools, by hand, with protection, or without. For most people, it is a game to be played for the hell of it; for the majority, it is a social environment that connects people of all ethnicities and ages; for some, it’s a direct connection to the beauty of the outdoors; for few, it’s a way of acquainting oneself with fear; for a minority, it is a masochistic drive; and for me, it is all of the above. Although all of these general reasons motivate climbers in their everyday ambitions, the source of their passion is as obscure as the virgin stone itself. From what I’ve learned, there are endless ways to answer this age old question, but three of them stood out the most: to find purpose, to find community, and to find what is elusive.

Being an athletes is one of the best-paid jobs on Earth. Being that they are paid so much the cost for the consumer is very high. The prices of tickets and sports memorabilia have been steadily rising over the years. The average ticket prices for the NHL, MLB, NBA and NFL all rose 5% to 10% this year, according to Jon Greenberg, executive editor of Team Marketing Report. (Mihoces).

My toes wiggling in the damp golden sand. The salty air invading my nostrils. Ocean waves are crashing up against the shore and receding back into the deep blue waters. The ultraviolet rays of the sun are heating my pale skin. William and the boys are building a large sandcastle. They cover the gleaming turrets with slimy brown seaweed and pristine white shells. The rolling hills to my right are a dark shade of green, having been healthily watered by the summer showers. Small feathery clouds move steadily through the gleaming blue limitless

The last time I saw Charlie outside prison walls we were on the run. Charlie was on the run, not I, I just went along for the ride because he was my husband. Charlie was on parole, but he loved to drink his booze. In our state it's a violation to drink while on parole.

Can you save other people’s lives when you are in danger or close to death? I would say “No” most of the time because my life is the most important thing in the universe at least for me. This is a quite difficult and controversial question, but I assume that the majority of people would say no as well. I don’t understand why the climbers take risks that they can die.

Stout bathers in baggy swimsuits tiptoe into the sea then launch themselves into the waves. A ship hovers on the horizon, hardly seeming to move, spectral against the whitewashed sky. Everything looks too real, too sharply defined and the colours are too bright, as if I’m seeing them after waking from a fever. The man who’d found my clothes is standing with his back to me, watching the swimmers.

I breathe in the warm air as I gaze out at my beautiful home. So wide I’m not even certain I’ve seen all it’s beauty that lies beneath. I can see the shadows of tiny fish swimming above the soft sand. They are so small they look as though they are microscopic. I reach down and run my hands through the wet substance that is so thick that my muscles grow tired the deeper my hand goes. As I lift my hand up, the sand makes a cloud of powder, slowly drifting through the water. The waters are so calm as though nothing could anger them. Each wave slowly rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the sea. I lower my fins beneath the water and a coolness rushes through me as I feel the cold, wet water. The soft breeze brushes against my skin with the scent of an indescribable satisfaction. Hours passed as the warmth of the sun seemed to just soak into my skin and relax my mind.

Source: CDC, National Center for Health Statistics, National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey. Health, United States, 2002. Flegal et. al. JAMA. 2002;288:1723-7. NIH, National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute, Clinical Guidelines on the Identification, Evaluation and Treatment of Overweight and Obesity in Adults, 1998.

The sand was as white as whipping cream, sleek and fluffy. The endless ocean and the sky were matching perfectly along the line faraway. Although no tough rocks to dodge, shells and crabs dissolved into the sand and were absolutely spotless, the pricks of sticks poked my feet. My footsteps marked the sand like a tattoo. While the flowing breeze of the salty gust of wind soothed our skin like if I was sleeping continuously in my cozy bed, and blowing the silky sand like feathers blowing in the clearing. The clouds were like mushy vanilla soufflé which relaxed in the wild blue soda sky. The tree’s spirited green dynamically making people peaceful. Personally, it was a pleasant place to take a nap. A drizzle of saltwater ran down my cheek, fish swarming in the sea looking for a cool water. Blazing fire roasting my skin as if I was trapped in a steaming sauna. Beach huts lined up perfectly along the bridge, assuming that the inside was splendidly air conditioned.

Although the scene is black and white, the various hues of the ocean water can be seen with such clarity. The whitewater, filled with turbulent air, sitting atop the large crashing wave shines brightly and glimmers in the abundant sunlight. The skin on youth’s back is golden and warm, as if it has been kissed by the sun on countless days similar to the one in the scene.

“Your assignment is to write a persuasive essay and present it to the class in a week. You will be graded based on how convincing it is. Today we will be choosing topics,” announced Mr. Bowerbank, my 7th grade English teacher and ruler of classroom 110. My class simultaneously groaned at the prospect of work. I simply lifted my head with intrigue as it was already May and about time we had our first essay. He then proceeded to give examples of topics we could choose and gave us some time to think before we had to tell him our topic. My classmates were already rushing to tell the teacher their idea lest someone else steal it. That meant the usual abortion, death penalty, or drug use topics were out. I really couldn't think of anything and the teacher was slowly making his way through the remaining students like an executioner beheading criminals in a line. I have always thought that he would make a marvelous supervillain if he had a curly mustache, a tophat, and a cape. Eventually my name was called. I slowly dragged myself over to his desk. Even sitting down, he still seemed to tower over me. “What is your topic Cindy?” As usual in such desperate times, my mind turned to food. “Waffles are better than pancakes.” I figured that a waffle was just a differently shaped pancake with a nicer texture. “Hmm. Excellent topic. I look forward to your essay!” I survived to live yet another day.

Picture driving across all of northern Iowa, South Dakota, and finish off with most Montana to spend a week gliding on fresh snow. The car ride to Whitefish Mountain Resort is one of the most plain car rides, but the destination makes up for it.

If one dreams it, one can achieve it. Sometimes it can be hard to picture doing something great that the normal person wouldn’t get to do, but that’s what is so great about dreaming big. With hard work, proper coaching, and proper equipment, it is completely possible to accomplish any goal one is dreaming of. This could even mean becoming a professional athlete. Nike created a campaign called “Risk Everything”, which emphasizes the idea of risking everything for the chance to succeed. It is symbolized with a skull and fire. Nike advertises this campaign with a commercial called, “Winner stays”, which creates a sense of motivation to young athletes to dream big and work hard while wearing Nike products to become the next big player that everyone is cheering for.

The warm breeze of the ocean air flies past my face. The heat of the yellow sun was sizzling, beating down against my skin, tanning and burning it within seconds. Beach goers were crowded around in all directions. Seagulls gliding past the groups of people, scouting for dropped or forgotten food to eat. Their little footprints marking a trail in the sand all over the place, going in a million different directions, searching for their next meal. I take in the exquisiteness of it all, the blue-green waves crashing into the sandy shore, making white foam and bubbles wash into the sea, little boys and girls that are digging in the bright white sand running away from the small waves before they get wet. The beach is a stunning place to be; there's just something about the ocean waves and the sand between my toes that makes me just want to stay there forever.