English Descriptive Personal Narrative
The Personal Narrative: Jacob Bobian
My house is like heroin, almost like a painless experience that many cannot get enough of. We are often exploited by my overdramatic brother with ADHD and a strong case of impulsiveness. Nevertheless, we are always busy, so much that I think that our day is actually longer than the average twenty-four hour day. In fact, I know my parents are more entertaining than most because there is always something to do or someplace we need to go. It seems that they only reason we have a house is to sleep. Most times my parents will not even tell us the plans for the week and it often comes to us as a surprise. My life is exceedingly rapid that sometimes I need to calm down, take a step back and see what is passing me by. With excessively controlling parents who supply me with assiduous academic possibilities and a monumental life moment, I can say that I have a great life.
Parents are the only lifeline you have in life, essential to pass by in life, day by day. It seems contrary for any teenage adolescence to picture his parents as sort of the antagonist in life—my parents are different. When punishment or some kind of consequence my mother seems to talk in only one language: sarcasm. She interrogates us and only questions in a rhetorical form that seems to drive anybody to the point of insanity. Disgusted, tiresome, and questionably I give in to my parents and they win. Although I think of them sometimes as my antagonistic villain, for some odd reason I love them to death and my success is always shared through them. On the other hand, my father works in the semi-conductor industry and is always traveling on the move, so my mother often takes care of the disciplining and since my dad is gone traveling she calls herself “wife, with benefits”. My internal family is more than great to me besides the fact that my outside family consisting of uncles and cousins are mainly alcoholics. Besides a very slim amount of my family, everyone else’s
My house is like heroin, almost like a painless experience that many cannot get enough of. We are often exploited by my overdramatic brother with ADHD and a strong case of impulsiveness. Nevertheless, we are always busy, so much that I think that our day is actually longer than the average twenty-four hour day. In fact, I know my parents are more entertaining than most because there is always something to do or someplace we need to go. It seems that they only reason we have a house is to sleep. Most times my parents will not even tell us the plans for the week and it often comes to us as a surprise. My life is exceedingly rapid that sometimes I need to calm down, take a step back and see what is passing me by. With excessively controlling parents who supply me with assiduous academic possibilities and a monumental life moment, I can say that I have a great life.
Parents are the only lifeline you have in life, essential to pass by in life, day by day. It seems contrary for any teenage adolescence to picture his parents as sort of the antagonist in life—my parents are different. When punishment or some kind of consequence my mother seems to talk in only one language: sarcasm. She interrogates us and only questions in a rhetorical form that seems to drive anybody to the point of insanity. Disgusted, tiresome, and questionably I give in to my parents and they win. Although I think of them sometimes as my antagonistic villain, for some odd reason I love them to death and my success is always shared through them. On the other hand, my father works in the semi-conductor industry and is always traveling on the move, so my mother often takes care of the disciplining and since my dad is gone traveling she calls herself “wife, with benefits”. My internal family is more than great to me besides the fact that my outside family consisting of uncles and cousins are mainly alcoholics. Besides a very slim amount of my family, everyone else’s