Peculiar path In one of the coldest days of winter‚ I opened my eyes to this mysterious world in a private hospital located in the most entertaining city‚ Tehran. Since that day‚ my dreams and aspirations have been shaped in an odd manner in a conflict of values. I grew up in Iran in a traditional Persian family that was also influenced by western values. We were living in the middle of an Islamic Republic with a fundamentalist Islamic ideology that conflicted with my family values. “Our Family
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Does moving to a new place change everything you ever experience? Moving to a whole new descriptive place is like being pop out of your mothers belly again. Especially‚ when you move to a place where the language‚ the food‚ the people‚ school and everything else is brand new. Those type of situations‚ shape your way of living in a constructive way that will affect the rest of your lifestyle. That’s the same situation that made me have a life change into a whole new story. Almost 15 years ago‚ my
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Icy Friendships The air was ice cold and dry; so cold that with each inhalation‚ my nostrils burned and as I exhaled my breath was as thick as fog. In the distance I could hear the tapping of the woodpeckers pecking up in the trees and the echoes of pine cones as they hit neighboring patios. With the sun shining bright and Mother Nature at peace‚ who could have possibly foreseen what was to come. Two girls had set out on a trip to the liquor store and returned home with far much more than
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High School Wind Ensemble “From the beginning‚” the conductor whispered‚ while bringing his arms up in a stance which made him look like he was ready to fight a raging battle against ferocious warriors. I could feel my palms sweating as I touched the cold metal of my saxophone‚ bring it up to my mouth into ready position. I quickly glanced around me at the other ambitious players‚ each one of them barely sitting on the edge of the black band chairs‚ nearly bursting at the seams with excitement
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During my fourth birthday party‚ I was run over by a car. But the car was a Barbie jeep‚ driven by a five-year-old. Taylor‚ the girl who hit me‚ apologized vehemently. Her mother demanded to know why she hit me. Her response was simple- she didn’t see me over the hood of the car. That event was a precursor to the rest of my childhood. My teachers would call me cute‚ my aunts would pinch my cheeks‚ and my older sister used my shoulders as an arm rest. Everyone saw me as a height instead of a person
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“Never put your key to happiness in someone else’s pocket.”~Anonymous. It was the Fourth of July‚ and my parents were planning a small party with our next-door neighbors. By this time I was in third grade and very close to a friend my age that lived next door. He had a little brother‚ who I thought was pretty intimidating for his age‚ considering he never obeyed or listened to anyone‚ and made up his own rules‚ like a visualante. On the other hand I had two sisters. The older one‚ Ronnie‚ I thought
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I learned most emotions from school. You would think I would have learned most of my feelings from my home life‚ but I think my parents did the best they could to cover them up and make it seem like everything was fine and dandy. I grew up in a museum of sorts‚ or
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9/25/13 A few weeks ago‚ it was before an upcoming video game called “Grand Theft Auto 5” was about to be released‚ people on the media were talking about the “Grand Theft Auto” video game series due to the fact that it is considered to be one of the most controversial video game series. Despite its popularity‚ people have been opposed to the series. When people in some types of media were talking about the new “Grand Theft Auto” game‚ which was going to be released on September 2013‚ they’ve mentioned
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My brother and I continued to sprint through the dark‚ damp streets. Puddles splashed under our feet making eerie echoes. We passed closed shops and empty parking lots. It seemed like I wouldn’t even have nightmares as creepy as what I was walking through. It was darker than usual. A unearthly feeling was in the air. No one was around‚ which was normal because it was almost midnight‚ but it felt different. “Maybe I’m just in a bad mood‚” I whispered to myself. School had proved to be a tragedy yet
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Personal literacy narrative For me learning to write and read English was really complicated. My first language was Spanish. My family at all-time spoke Spanish. Going to school was the same. All my classes were in Spanish so my teachers spoke to me in Spanish. In my opinion this was something that really affected me to be a better English speaker and writer. I wish there was someone who would of guide and tell me step to step what to do but sadly there was not one. As soon as I went to middle
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