An Unforgettable Experience - Original Writing
It was my first time at Dubai Airport, the symbol of United Arab
Emirates' aviation ascendancy. The bustling International airport was
a long way away from my rural residence. Due to the long distance, we
had been obliged to take the taxi instead of making use of public
transport. The atmosphere in the car was generally silent, but
occasionally my parents moaned about all the minor discomforts of the
journey. It felt like we were in a funeral. Hours after departing my
house, we started noticing frequent aeroplanes, low down in the sky
indicating the proximity to the airport. The roads had become more
congested and the air was more contaminated than from where we had
initially departed. During the taxi ride to Dubai Airport a sense of
inexplicable anticipation had built up within me.
As we arrived at the airport, I stared in awe at the size and beauty
of the place. Just looking at the sheer number of people in the
airport overwhelmed me. When traveling by plane, most people are in
fear of getting hijacked or the plane crashing, but the main form of
fear for me was fear of getting lost at the airports or there being
complications with the flight tickets. Although the reasons for my
fear were trivial in comparison, they built up a sense of nervousness
with me.
As I perambulated through the long, tedious, oblique passageway of the
edifice into the capacious waiting room, I started quivering in
obvious trepidation. The waiting room was an enormous room abundant
with people from many different social classes. Parents tightly held
their children's hands in solitude of losing them in the...
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...rries has been deeply carved into my heart
where it will stay forever, and so will Linda.
I had always thought of myself as a "boring person" who did the most
tedious things and who would never fall in love but I was wrong. I
used to think that my life was like a bittersweet symphony, similar to
the words of a sad song, where the words have no meaning. My life had
always been like a pointless existence in my view. This dramatic
experience taught me that merely to exist is not enough. Life must
have a purpose; a meaning; a reason. Life must encompass dreams of
aspiration. From that day, I decided what my goal of life would be.
The realization of the value of life stimulated me to become a doctor
and help save other people's valuable lives. I guess I gained
something from this journey……but not what I really wanted.
Which was no strange feeling to me since I turned to music to cope with whatever ailed me, because no matter what, a song, some headphones, and volume turned way too loud was always there. Returning to the supple age of ten, was a disconnect, mainly between the receptors in my brain that determine whether or not I get enough of the happy chemicals, but between what I am, and what I thought I was. I thought I was a kid like everyone else, I would be sad for no reason often, but moving many times, and having to be on my own for a large portion of my early to late teens, I thought it was how life was for most people in my situation. My situation was dreary at best, people bullied me extensively in middle school to high school, in the first string of serious relationships I had they all left because of some arbitrary meaning of what being happy should have been; coming to a peak on Valentines day of 2012, the first time I attempted suicide. Suicide is the focus of the song, how abandonment can lead to hopelessness and desperation to the point of the ultimate act of despair, death. “I guess I finally had the courage to go away. The promises we made were made hollowly. Sometimes you'd reassure me we'd be okay. But you'd always leave” (A Lot Like Birds. Kuroi Ledge. Equal Vision Records, 2013.
Road I descended a hill and came upon a narrow bridge. The car went off
The following review of Richard Rodriguez’s book titled “Hunger of Memory,” shows the author’s smart way of writing an autobiography. The book is conformed in six well explained essays of Rodriguez’s life placed together, all in order to show the reader the different outcomes during his life as a middle class Mexican-American. The author wrote this autobiography on 1982, in where he explains the moments that he and his family went by during their immigration inside the United States. Richard Rodriguez started attending a Roman Catholic elementary school with a simple knowledge of the English language. Due to the fact he did not know much English; he was not very confident in class and had a very shy personality inside the classroom. During his trajectory in elementary school, he was more into learning the language because of an advice of a nun form his school that when to talk with Richard’s parents. Even though Rodriguez did started to learn the language as time passed by he felt that his Mexican culture that brought his family so close once before was being lost as more and more Americanized his family seemed to become.
To understand the concept of recovered memories and their validity, we must first understand to an extent how memory works. The Medial Temporal Lobe is the name we give to structures in our brain necessary for memory, this mainly includes the hippocampus, however the amygdala and the frontal lobe also play important roles. The hippocampus is where our long-term memories are stored in the brain, with age this becomes more dysfunctional. The amygdala and frontal lobe both work to encode our memories into our brain, however the frontal lobe also maintains agendas, refreshes and rehearses information, aids in resisting distraction, and directs our attention to certain features (2). When we think of our memory we like to think we remember everything
and the life he knew was now gone . All he could do now was cry , the only way he knew
My writing as a poet has been heavily influenced by writers like Langston Hughes, Nikki Giovanni, Alice Walker and Slam poets such as Black Thought and the Last Poets. These writers write and speak about the struggles and uniqueness of Black culture. Their individual experiences and political stances as well as the influences of other artist are evident in their work. For example in Giovanni’s poem “Revolutionary Music” she quotes some of the lyrics from Sam Cooke and James Brown to illustrate her personal views on racism and the equal rights movements. Hughes in his piece titled “Message to the President” skillfully incorporates the political events of his time into his poem using it to sardonically articulate his view on racial inequalities that were occurring in his time. Black Thought and the Last Poets utilize jazz and urban hip hop along with their idea of Black to relay their message.
The rest was a blur. I felt nothing. It was just as if I was asleep. I
My First Memory- Personal Narrative I’ve had many memories during my lifetime, many good, and some bad. My
glimpse of it. It is huge, and is the most noticeable building in the area. My
As the kid went into the candy store, the reaction of his face was priceless. Like all kids in a candy store, his eyes livened up and his mouth drooled. It was kind of amusing to watch, but the grandparents loved every second of it. They knew that as the kid grew older, he would go his separate way and would not be as close to them. They wanted to cherish the moment, enjoy every little detail about the boy, and spend as much time with him before he would “leave the nest.”
I am younger to her by around two minutes. Or One and a half to be
An Unforgettable Trip - Personal Writing I finally arrived in Pakistan on a hot, June morning after nine tiring days. hours. The time is a lot. We finally arrived in a village and the heat beyond words was irritating me. I looked around me, there were trees and greenery.
…..War was severe. We had no food for more than a day. It was very
It was a normal Saturday morning everything was going swell until, I awoke up from my slumber only to be left alone at home with my brother. In that short moment where my brother and I were left alone at home to survive I started to panic and overthink the worst-case scenario might happen. That our parents left us to fend for ourselves and we had to endure the up-coming obstacles that would soon arrive. In this experience, I learned not to overthink but to also be patient in and not make hasty decisions.
I could "snooze" as my dad urged himself to go onward towards Arizona as he