Me, Myself, and I

By: Dina S. 7C

Wouldn't it be utter perfection if everything we enjoy would be there for us, playing on repeat our entire lives? My pet pleasures give me a sense of satisfaction, the fact  that walking in the blazing hot sand makes me happy, that hearing the pitter patter of rain on my umbrella makes me forget about the realities of life. That lackadaisical life filled with the bluntness of expectations and standards can be gone in an instant when a memory of catching snowflakes in my gloved hand is recalled. Yet, while these things don't define who I am, it makes me wonder, what about them makes me me?

When people ask me who I am, I always have a mental list ready of all my character traits. But in retrospect to the happenings of my life, I realized that my identity and who I am are different. My identity is how I respond to things, my instincts, my friendliness. Who I am however, is what makes me crazed with excitement at the mere thought. I enjoy trekking through mounds of tiny grains of sand that have been baking in the sun all day. The sand that rides up and down as I slowly plunder through it is a representation of my patience. People often ask me for help if they need something or advice to fix their problem (yes, I am the therapist of my friend group). I get annoyed because it is overwhelming to listen to them complain about their issues. However, I will always try to be of aid because I'm a caring person, no matter how frustrated I can get.    

I often walk in the rain because I find it to be enjoyable. The consistent sound of droplets hitting my umbrella, as they slowly splat into a tiny puddle. It always reminded me of my mood. I could have a nice, calm day, and then suddenly, it can  turn into something unexpected, like the ascending speed of the fall of the rain, or sometimes, even a thunderstorm. The increase and decline  of rain accurately expresses how I act. I can completely change how I feel in a short amount of time, just like how there could be pouring rain for fifteen minutes, and then it halts to a stop. Strangely, I feel like I can relate to rain. It is very perplexing because it is only puffy, almost blinding white clouds precipitating, but I think of it as a metaphor.

    Every year, I go to Pennsylvania for winter break. I stand in the open field while it is snowing, and let the flakes fall into my outstretched hand. It is disappointing when they melt as soon as they reach the surface of my glove. I haven't had enough time to gaze at the intricate patterns that are carved into the thin layer of snow. This shows how I interpret nostalgia. I can be wondrously thinking back to a glorious time in my life, but the memory comes to an end. I feel sad because the memory is never long enough. Yet, before I can ponder upon it and try to bring it back, another event in my life begins to occur. I can be deeply immersed in something, and in the blink of an eye, it disappears.

    In culmination, I take what I enjoy and turn it into a metaphor of how it reflects who I am. Finding out about myself was not an easy task. But what I find happiness in helped me realize how ordinary things have made me the person I see while looking into the mirror. My pet pleasures assist me in unveiling my true character more than I could ever imagine.

 

 

Me

By: Jillian Rose P. 7A   

 I’m one of those people you might have a tough time figuring out. I feel that I give off some different vibes, confusing people around me, and sometimes, myself. You might look at me and think, “She looks quite timid”. However, another person might think that I’m “Loud and talkative”. Although I haven’t exactly figured out who I am, these things seem to make sense. Based on who I’m with or how I’m feeling, my personality tends to drift out, sometimes giving people the wrong idea of who I really am. After all, I am just a 12, going on 13 year-old girl, trying to figure everything out.

     I sit on my school bus every morning on school days, with my headphones on, music in my ears. Music is a big part of me, and it helps me express myself. It immediately amplifies my mood, and always seems to help. I love singing along to the lyrics, and just listening to how the beat works together perfectly with the words. I love how it all comes together to make a fantastic song. I listen to multiple artists, usually bands, however I do enjoy a couple of solo artists. I love reading through song lyrics,  simply reading them as if reading a story. They tell about different things, from different points of view. I never seem to get tired of listening to music, and let’s just say I get pretty ecstatic when my favorite artist releases a new song… Also, I’m learning how to play guitar, which should work well with my fondness of music.

    My friends are definitely a big part of my life. They’re the ones that really know me, not just people that label me before really getting to know me. They never seem to fail at making me smile, and I know that they’re always there when I need them. It’s amazing to have people that care and will try their hardest to make you feel better about something. Although we have arguments, we always end up learning something in the end. I guess you can say my friends are also helping me find who I am. They help me discover new parts of me I never knew existed, which I think is pretty amazing. I’m always discovering new things about myself  when I’m with them. New skills, new talents, and they introduce me to a lot of new things. Just simply talking to them for a few minutes makes me really content, I love sharing inside jokes with them, and laughing together while everyone else is wondering what could possibly be so funny. I love them all so much, and I’m proud to call them my best friends.

   It will probably take me hours and hours to finish homework… I’m a huge procrastinator. Even when I know I have important things to do, I still procrastinate. It’s something that I really need to work on. I’ll find anything to distract myself, I’ll read a book, I’ll play with my hair, I’ll even stare at the ceiling! I waste hours doing nothing, and I always regret it later on. I’m sure loads of people have this problem, and I know it’s hard to stop. It’s not just with important things like homework or studying, it’s for little things too. For example, if my mom tells me to make my bed or put something away, I’ll just walk around the house and find something else to do. Procrastination is basically ruining my life…well, not really. It just makes things a lot harder and I have to deal with doing everything last minute, which isn’t so pleasant…

       There you have it, a few things about me. I’m just a music loving procrastinator with some pretty amazing friends. Now, I could go on and on about myself, but these are just a few things that tend to stand out. I still have plenty of things about myself to discover, I’m still working on it. I can’t wait to see how many new things I’ll learn about myself, and I hope everyone gets a positive vibe from me, because really, I’m not all that bad.

A Weaver of Words

By: Katherine K. 7C CW

I am but a small fragment of an enormous world, a shard of glass broken apart from the rest. I am not transparent glass, for I cannot look into a mirror and see myself as anything but a stranger. There is no tool that allows one to look into the core of their selves. I’ve always thought that I have known myself, but when I recently looked into a mirror I realized that what I was seeing was just a vessel; a vessel for something unseen and unknown, elusive and maybe even colorful: my true self. And that is what got me thinking, “can I ever truly wrap my mind around who I am?”  It might not be easy to describe oneself, but someday I will be able to know and describe myself like I am describing a friend.

 I hope, as I often do, that one day I will become familiar with my true self. I will be able to look into a cracked mirror and realize that I am just as broken as the glass. I am not fragile, no. But people, in their own way, are all broken. There is no way to fix them, for people are much more complex than simple machinery. There are no wires or structures in people that always have a fix. We all have what are called flaws. Some of them are buried deep underground, and others that you wear on your sleeve. But through the crack in the mirror, I will also be able to see the goodness in me, the part that shimmers and beams, like a group of fireflies, through the dark. So in the end, I do not count my flaws. I count what matters, for there are things more important than trying to fix what cannot truly be comprehended in the first place.

 What some might call naivety, I think is a strong case of hope. I believe I possess such a thing, although it is usually only seen in fairytales and fables. Hope can shine through the very windows of our soul. Sometimes, I can look at something and feel like my day is brighter, because some things are like mirrors of light, so bright they can cast out all the darkness you can ever felt. I wonder if I am optimistic enough to be like that for others. Most of the times, when I am in a bad situation, I can always find a way to turn on the light. That’s one of the qualities I am sure I would not trade for the world.

 Sometimes, I can get lost, but the best kind of lost there is. Lost in a garden of words, each flower placed so perfectly, bringing out the beauty of everything near it. I can walk for hours, listening to every single sound, even the tiny sound of grass being split up when my foot touches the ground. I can look at the beautiful sky that is always a perfect shade of violet, right before the sky is going pitch black. Despite that, I find myself seeing perfectly, though some parts of the garden have little light than others. And even when I am somewhere else, like at school, I find myself remembering what it was like, longingly trying to grasp the intangible presence of a great book. It sparks my creativity, and new ideas flood over my mind like a tide. It makes determination shoot through me like a flaming arrow, on fire with fresh resolution, because, one day in the distant future, I want to help others know what it feels like to be given the warm, sensational feeling that you get when you are reading a good book.

  Can there ever be a time when, finally, you can look at yourself as if you were looking at a best friend? I believe there is. The picture you see in the mirror will develop over time. It will start out as a blank canvas. It will grow in detail, though ever so slowly. The picture will not look like much at first. But only at the end, when you have become the best person you can be, will it  be clear to you what it shows. You may not realize it, but you are the artist behind the picture. It is up to you to decide the type of person you will be; and it is up to you to make it the prettiest picture it can be. That is why you should not be who other people want you to be, or you will be a stranger to yourself all your life. Be the best person you can be, for trying to be the person you are not will never achieve anything.

 

 

Meaningless Words that Have Punctuation in All the Right Places

By: Sarah K. 7A CW

Typical "All About Me" essays start something like this: "My name is Sarah K.. I am twelve years old. I have a sister named Mia.” But this—this isn't a typical "All About Me" essay. In fact, this isn't an “All About Me” essay at all. This isn't one of those cliché compositions that always seem to end with the words, “I am proud to be the person I am today.” This is an essay about who I am. I believe these two are very different. 

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