1998 albums

“St.Lucy’s home for girls raised by wolves” by Karen Russell and “Letter 7” by Raine Rilke both strongly encourage self-development prior to interpersonal deep rooted relationships. These authors wrote about the same central themes but used different perspectives in accordance with what they most thought would impact the reader most.Both texts support a central theme; the more virtuous life is lived the more flourishing it will become. This theme can be broken down into two sub-themes (of which…

The East Coast trip Over, the summer I went on many exciting adventures/trips but today I am going to tell you about the East Coast trip. I very was excited for this trip as I would be gone from home for two weeks and would visit 3 states that I had never been to and florida. The first city/state I visited was Atlanta, Georgia this was my first time coming to Georgia. I stayed in Atlanta, Georgia for 3 days. The day after we arrived in Georgia we went to the Atlanta, Georgia zoo and saw…

Essay 3 Let’s Think of the time you had to lie. Was it easier than to tell the truth? We all know that there are different types lies. There is the bold face lie, the big lie, the little white lie, and the cover-up. Sometimes we all need to lie once in a while, but lying all the time is not ok. By saying that being a lair is not the best way to live. Personal experience has determined to me that lying is necessary, may be needed, at the time; can also come back and haunt you. One…

The Sundays We Rarely Live Opening the doors to the smell of cocoa (gerund) that fills the air mixing with the cold air rushing in behind, shivers run up my back. Through the smell, I can hear laughter and chattering in the family room, quiet enough to hear the crackling of the fire that brings warmth to my bright red nose and ears. I then walk in to see my siblings and parents beam with joy as they see me approach. While I bask in their love, I know that some walk into their home and don't feel…

The place I wake up early for on the weekends. The place I practice three times a week. The softball field is my happy place. The dirt on the field is the only beach I want to go to. The chalk on the field is the only chalk I write with. The early mornings, the late nights all for something I love. The smell of the fresh cut grass, so fresh just before a game. The look of the just raked infield, so fluffy and smooth.The look of the freshly painted and chalked lines, so crisp like perfection. The…

Juhee: Growing up, I was always afraid of silence. As a child, I was accustomed to the laughter and chattering sounds of my family members inside my house every day. When I walked out of my room, I heard pots clanging, rapid footsteps across the living room, and voices calling out my name. These familiar noises were the sounds of family that produces a sense of protection and inclusiveness. On the other hand, I dreaded the times when I was alone in an empty house, surrounded by silence. In the…

The second essay that I revised was my Narrative essay, in this essay I first reread the whole essay. When I finished rereading the essay I went to the introduction and read it again, I then realized that my introduction lacked a good thesis and a hook, so I changed my boring introduction from “July 6, 2016, as I stumble out my house to the sound of a car horn honking only to realize it was my friends in the car impatiently waiting for me to get ready.” to “Have you ever let jealousy motivate…

The Day I lost My Hero Today is the day, November 22, 1963, the day I finally get to see my hero, John F. Kennedy, and his wife Jackie. My mom had promised me that she would take me to witness him pass in the parade as soon as she finished the dishes. I peeled back my blinds to reveal a perfect day in Texas; the sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I leaped out of my bed and went straight to my closet. I want the president to see me in my very best clothes. I slipped my very…

It’s funny: I don’t know whether to cringe at my life when I was fifteen years old or cringe at my life now. Fifteen-year-old me had dreams of becoming a professional photographer, living in New York City with a boyfriend and at least one cat. I had those dreams because life was not easy for me at that age. It had been two years since I first began to suffer from depression. Transitioning from elementary school to junior high school was a challenge for me. I had never been to a new school,…

I was 12 years old the first time I snuck out in the middle of the night, I was 14 years old the first time I snuck out and got caught, and I was 15 years old the last time I was sneaking out ever. It was October 7, 2017, on a very dark cold night around 10pm, and I was about to go to sleep but I decided to post on Snapchat, “Text me, I’ll answer this time :)” Yes, haha, “this time”, see I don’t really answer anyone, but by choice, mostly because I’d rather watch netflix and everyone who texts…