My Bedroom Do you ever wonder why certain places mean so much to certain people? When I think of my bedroom‚ I realize why some people are touchy about who goes in their room or who has been touching things in their home‚ it is because those things are important to them and may have some meaning. Places like my bedroom are places where we can relax and be comfortable and I think that is why it is important to people‚ because we can be ourselves and feel comfortable‚ we can also just sit down and
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help. My name is Maisara but I’d like to be called as Sara. I’m 29 years old and a married woman. I’m the second child and the only girl among my 3 brothers in my nuclear family. I’m very closed with my parents and all of my siblings especially with my youngest brother since hemy 2nd trial in writing). But apparently I’ve lacked with ideas. Could someone check this for me‚ please? Would you mind giving me more ideas in order to produce a better essay. I’ll appreciate any help. My name is Maisara
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My Favourite Hobby My favourite hobby is all kinds of technology like cars‚ trains‚ planes etc. Mostly it’s cars. Everything begun when I was small. My father was repairing his car and I was always helping him. I was asking him so many questions about it‚ because I was so interested in techniques. I even started making my own lamps and it worked! All of my family was using it. List 1: What kinds? 2:How did it begun and who introduced me to it? 3: Lamps. 4: Why do
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The Birth of My Son Derrick Grant English 121 Instructor Nielson September 9‚ 2013 The Birth of My Son Some things in life can be planned‚ but nothing is ever for certain. I found that out a long time ago‚ but what really made me truly believe it was when it happened to me. I was twenty years old when I found out my wife was pregnant. I didn’t really believe it at first; I didn’t expect it to happen to me at the time. Nonetheless‚ it did. I really didn’t know what to do‚ after
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being yourself. My mother is my hero. I was about ten years old when I first realized how much of a hero my mother was. I began to understand that the consequences and discipline inflicted on me was not in hatred‚ but to teach me a simple lesson about life skills. I recall a time back when I was around five or six where I threw an enormous tantrum about eating my vegetables. Being the hero that my mother is‚ she made me eat every last carrot‚ pea‚ and broccoli there was on my plate. At the time
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My room is my one and only domain where I carry out various leisure activities such as studying‚ watching films and television‚ listen to music‚ talk on the phone‚ surf the internet‚ etc. My room is painted all pink; also‚ most of the things in my room are all pink. As someone enters my room‚ the first thing that he or she will see is a cream dresser with a stylish design coated on it. In it‚ lie all my clothes and personal belongings. Then on the other side of my room‚ a black plasma television
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used to dread Sunday mornings. It was the day that my father would call my grandparents long distance to Korea. My father had a rule that my brother‚ sister‚ and I each had to talk to our grandfather and practice speaking Korean. I remember turning over in my bed to face the wall so that my father couldn’t see that I was awake. Even though I tried my best to feign a deep slumber‚ his stern voice commanded me to wake up and set a good example for my younger siblings. Groaning‚ I would stumble over to
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Miller 08/10/13 “My best” It was the 25th of October at 7:00 pm. I was standing on the football field on my senior night my last ever home football game. 6 weeks earlier in a game vs. Stagg high school while I was playing defense I turned the wrong way and dislocated my left knee cap. My knee cap was actually on the side of my knee. I was immediately rushed to the hospital via ambulance‚ because they did not know how severe my injury was. While I was in the hospital room they put my knee cap back
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inspired every time there is an opportunity for me to create an artwork. My mother said I got this art skill from my father side. I remember I could plunge into drawing or coloring for hours till morning‚ my mother was so concerned that I was not sleeping until I finished my art piece. I have grown up‚ priorities have changed since that time but my patience on doing details over my drawing or painting is still the same. Art is my passion‚ it helps me express myself and feel great in every art work I
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My world. My world is a series of strung memories‚ slow songs‚ copper streetlights dancing over my skin during long car rides‚ first kisses yet to be shared‚ poems yet to be read‚ apologies I was too afraid to make‚ mistakes I don’t know how to undo‚ pulse punching through me every moment I write‚ and the laughs that I have yet to enjoy. My world is not only my world; it is your world‚ her world‚ his world‚ our world. The lines of my world are not defined. I have not found my world‚ but am creating
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