I walked to Florida last year. It sounds like an unachievable feat, I completely understand but allow me to explain it for you. I live in Steger, Illinois; a small town in the south suburbs of Chicago. From the front porch of my home, with $300 in my pocket and a singular backpack filled with clothing and snacks, I embarked on my journey. A month and a half it took me to make it to where I was going. My at the time girlfriend’s father called me and asked if I wanted to help him out at his parent’s house in Naples, Florida. I had nothing to do, I was homeschooled and could bring my computer with me and I had no job. My girlfriend would be there waiting for me. Well I agreed and he told me that we would be leaving in 6 weeks. I could’ve waited but I really had nothing else to do. My girlfriend was on vacation and I had lost touch with most of my friend’s when I switched to …show more content…
It probably could have taken a much shorter time, but a touch of ADHD makes you want to sightsee. I had a time limit and I planned to make it there on time.
Whenever I tell this story, I get the question “Where did you sleep?”. That question is an easy answer. I slept on the side of the road all the time. Some nights I would stay at a motel to clean up or sleep in a warm bed, but the outdoors isn’t bad during the summer weather. I had a small blanket rolled up tightly in my bag and some nights I’d use it as a blanket; others as a pillow.
The month went as I walked through Georgia. I met a lot of people in each town I stopped in. A few people offered me rides to the nearest gas station, or if they could buy me something to eat. It’s crazy how friendly people are when they are in disbelief. “Illinois you say?”, “How long did it take to walk this far?”, “Why not wait for her dad?”. I needed an adventure. Life was getting stagnant, only leaving the house to go to the girlfriend’s house. I had a job briefly but I needed something, an
As my family piled into our car for our four-hour drive, I sincerely hoped my brothers wouldn’t ruin the best chance that we’ve had in a long time. They were already arguing about who got what video game, and were not making my mom and dad feel any better about going. We were going to Illinois, to Chicago, to be even more specific. Chicago was the city I’d been dreaming about visiting for a long time. (Well, that and New York.) I could not believe that my parents were getting out of their comfort zone and taking us to a big city.
I knew that I was capable of making friends, but it just made me feel that sometimes stepping out of our comfort zone is what actually makes us comfortable. There was one night almost halfway through the trip where we ended up having a pow-wow, one of our rooms had a rooftop, where we could see the night sky and the stars above. We decided that we would sit in a circle and those of us who were comfortable enough would share something from our own lives that gave us jot or simply gave us anxiety. In my eyes, I actually thought that this was very precious and that sharing the things we all said brought us
I was the average student and athlete at school, I wasn’t known for anything amazing though. The only thing that I notice that stood out from me was that I always had a big heart for other people especially ones who live with a disability. I respect the children to adults that have disabilities and live life to the fullest, I don’t know how they do it. They really know how to live life to the fullest compared to those who have no disabilities. This is a story that tells you how I met the most amazing people and how I became so close to them.
To make matters worse, I had no one to turn to. I sat alone at lunch for weeks, shut out by people who had known each other since kindergarten. For the first time, I watched from the outside as everyone else seemed to meet success at every turn. People were nice to me, but not anything real. My own fear and loneliness made it seem like any extension of kindness was fake. A girl named Anna, who I now call a close friend, asked me countless times to eat lunch together, but my own anxieties held me
The cold night embraces us in a shivering blanket. Goosebumps prickle on our freezing body. Black consumes our pale color that once was on our skin. Our invisible breath fogs the dark in a memoire that it is cold. We trace our hands and famished engulfs them with the remaining warmth we have left. Sometimes we are reminded that we have color by the light
Once we decided on a day, I began to wonder what it was going to be like to go back to a place that I had not been in 7 years. As we approached the building, memories started to flash through my mind, what it was once like to not have a care in the world. From that point on, it was just thought after thought of how things used to be. How the cafeteria seemed like the biggest room ever, the playground was a place of endless amounts of fun, and getting a “pink slip” was the worst punishment in the world. Going back to a place where I spent most of my childhood caused me to reflect on how things had changed since I left there, and what type of person I had become.
My adventure of the 3,000-mile walk will be something I never
When I fall asleep in public, Alex informs everyone that "Bryan likes to pay money to go to sleep." His words don't stray far from the truth. I am convinced that I am afflicted, cursed, by something. I am haunted by the constant threat of unconsciousness. Glancing behind me, I see nothing, but sense the shadow that lurks. He is never very far, waiting patiently for me to drop my guard. We are very close, my shadow and I, and we know all of each others' tricks. A continuing match of wits takes place every time I step into a living room, a movie theater, a library, an automobile.
I am always willing to give whether it is money or time.One day when I was volunteering at the hospital I was doing my water ad ice rounds like normal. I walked toward the patient 's door and I knock and second a later I hear someone say, “Come in.” As I enter the room I am welcomed with a smile that belonged to a heavy setting women sitting in a chair that was placed next to her bed, and her feet were propped up . She had lipstick on and her hair was curled. She greeted me with the biggest “HELLO.” She informed me that she had been waiting for a volunteer all day, she asked me,” what is your name” ,and I responded kindly, pointing a my name tag, “ My name is Carrington.” Then I went on to ask if she needed any water or ice,she said,”Yes!” I proceeded to get her a refill, when I returned to her room she said, “ I wish that I had something else for you to do.” She told me to come back later to see if she had anything for me to do. After I left her room the nurses but me to work so by the time a was free it was time for me to leave, so when I did finally return to the patient 's room I told her that I was just coming to say goodbye. To my surprise she was not only her family was in the room as well. She introduced me to her family and we talk for a little while, I finally said, “goodbye” and wished her and her family well. As I walked to my car all I
A 16-20 hours’ drive was ahead of us in an era where we had no cell phones, IPad, yet alone GPS in case we got lost. My entertainment was reading Goosebumps books, looking out the window, or just as simple as people watching. We encountered many different types of people when we stopped to get gasoline, use the bathroom, or just to get a quick bite. I vividly remember this occasion when a kid with dirty clothes, crutches, and a missing leg approached us asking for any spare change we could give him. That time I had taken my dog with us on the trip, and unfortunately we didn't have any money we could give him. While this was happening my dog ran out of the car, and I tried to lure Max back in with a treat. As I finally got a hold of my pet, I turned, and got a glimpse at this boy less fortunate than me, and he said "I bet that dog gets better treatment than I do." His appearance and what he said really got me thinking that there is people out there that have it worse than me; I'm over here crying about not getting a Game Boy while there is people out there that can barely feed
Of course, I had to see her again. That was during the summer after my second year in college, and when I decided to leave school the following winter, I had but one destination in mind. Except that I was heading to Kansas City, where I figured jobs were easier to come by, instead of Wichita, 200 miles to the south, where she was living and asking me to go. The following is the story of how I went from Kansas City to Wichita. The why is obvious.
Personal Narrative - My Dream I picture myself center stage in the most enormous and fantastically beautiful theater in the world. Its walls and ceilings are covered in impeccable Victorian paintings of angels in the sky. A single ray of light shines down upon my face, shining through the still, silent darkness, and all attention is on me and me alone. The theater is a packed house; however, my audience is not that of human beings, but rather the angels from the paintings on the walls come alive, sitting intently in the rows of plush seats. Their warmth encompasses my body, and I know at that moment that it is time to begin.
“Random Act of Kindness.” Good Therapy. Good Therapy, 14 August. 2013. Web. 16 October. 2013.
A reason why I wanted to have this trip was to find myself. In the past, I tended to compete with others because I am a half of Japanese and Swiss. I could not accept this Identity which differs from any other boys and girls so that I tended to be against things and break things. Nevertheless, growing of my age changed me not to express myself in rebels but to train my body and soul. The only way I could admit my identity was to know who I am. Therefore, this traveling was the quest of my inner world.
Once upon a time, I saw the world like I thought everyone should see it, the way I thought the world should be. I saw a place where there were endless trials, where you could try again and again, to do the things that you really meant to do. But it was Jeffy that changed all of that for me. If you break a pencil in half, no matter how much tape you try to put on it, it'll never be the same pencil again. Second chances were always second chances. No matter what you did the next time, the first time would always be there, and you could never erase that. There were so many pencils that I never meant to break, so many things I wish I had never said, wish I had never done. Most of them were small, little things, things that you could try to glue back together, and that would be good enough. Some of them were different though, when you broke the pencil, the lead inside it fell out, and broke too, so that no matter which way you tried to arrange it, they would never fit together and become whole again. Jeff would have thought so too. For he was the one that made me see what the world really was. He made the world into a fairy tale, but only where your happy endings were what you had to make, what you had to become to write the words, happily ever after. But ever since I was three, I remember wishing I knew what the real story was.