My right index finger hesitantly lingered above C‚ awaiting the decisive soft click as I pressed down onto the key. Never had my movements felt so deliberately precise. Slowly easing onto the familiar white smoothness of A‚ my left finger found its place just a bit down the keyboard. I knew that each and every stroke of my hands of my performance matters today. And yet‚ I smiled‚ letting my hands dance all over‚ presenting a symphony of sound as the ideas inside my head came to life. The music to
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“You wimp. Just get on the bike. It is just like a bicycle‚” Hayden said. “No‚ I do not want to. I’ll wreck. I’m going inside for dinner‚ so just leave me alone about it!” Those things are way too fast. I might break my collarbone like Hayden did a year ago. I went through the screen door smelling the aroma of fresh pizza my mom just baked. “Honey‚ go wash your hands and sit at the table. I’ll bring your food to you in a few minutes.” “Okay.” I walked to the bathroom next to Hayden and Chanlers’
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As the years go by throughout my life‚ I always seem to come across one question… Who am I? Many thoughts occur in my mind‚ although I seem to be certain I have it all figured out; I always tend to second doubt myself. But this time‚ I am pretty sure who I’ve become. You see‚ I must thoroughly elaborate my past before I can explain the present. Therefore‚ you being able to understand what I had to endure to become the man I am today. It all started long ago with a basketball‚ but soon it became
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Caleb was two when I noticed changes in him. He feared nothing and no one. Always roughhousing with his older brother‚ Jackson. Jump on his sister every time she walked into the room. If I didn’t keep a close eye on him‚ somehow he would end up climbing a tree or over the fence into the neighbor’s yard. I would tell myself‚ “he’s just a boy.” However‚ he wouldn’t talk to people‚ avoided eye contact‚ and absolutely hated it when people touched him without permission. In daycare the other kids didn’t
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Narrative Essay I love my family and I love my friends‚ but some friends should NEVER be brought home. I have a lot of family members. I also have a lot of friends. But sometimes I wish I never brought home some of my friends. There’s this one friend in particular that had me convinced that she was trying to take over my life. I cried almost every night‚ worried that my family would disown me and adopt this friend. I guess I wouldn’t actually call her a friend where as an acquaintance or maybe even
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A Comparative Essay comparing artist’s views regarding contemporary issues Introduction This essay will be a comparison of my work in comparison to Cindy Sherman’s and another related artist’s work. The essay will explain why they appeal to me and their influences on me. As an artist‚ I want people to visually question my work‚ as I feel there is more of an impact if the work is questionable. I try and make my work somewhat unique and humorous‚ for example in a recent piece about facial expression
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“Work isn’t to make money‚ you work to justify life”-Marc Chagall When I was younger‚ everything was handed to me. Well‚ not everything but most of what I wanted or thought I needed like new clothes‚ toys‚ the latest electronics things that cost money. When the economy started to crash thing had to change around my house. My mother lost her job and my dad’s pay was cut short plus on top of that he was sick for 8 months with a type of liver disease. We had to cut down on how much money we spent
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Softball runs in my blood‚ my dad played softball‚ my uncle played softball‚ my cousins’ play softball; it seemed as though almost every I knew played softball. I knew how to swing a bat before I knew how to walk. My dad and I would go to the batting cages just about every Sunday. I had previous played for the local team in my area but I wanted to be able to share the sport my family and I loved with the school I love. And although the friendships on the travel team were amazing‚ I could only imagine
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I was only 5 years old when I entered to my first soccer team and I was also very short‚ my coach use to call me “el chaparro” which in english means “The short guy”. My parents didn’t force me to play‚ I wanted to play on my own. I wanted to play because when my dad took me to a soccer game at the Philadelphia Union Stadium I saw a famous soccer player named Javier “Chicharito” Hernandez‚ he signed my shirt and told me “Tu vas aser un gran futbolista.” which means “You’re going to be a great soccer
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Germania continued‚ “These documents are explicit in that it seems a lot of people our age are not in support of what views the Church has in regards to women. Sorry if it seems I’m being a pessimistic‚ but it looks as if the future itself is trying to scorn the traditions of the past. I don’t know what to say about this‚ but at least I’m proud to say the HL still had the results it needed from the students of that nearby university.” “What’s the matter‚ Hannelore?” Christian Falkenrath wondered
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