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Importance of human memory
Importance of memory
An essay about the importance of memories
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Carved, flickering pumpkins perched on the porch, and cheap decorations cluttered the walls with a few fold out chairs. I snatched the bowl of candy and plopped in an old chair. Two shadowy figures appeared sprinting my direction. They ran desperately, rolling in the leaves and throwing toads at one another. I admired the two little boys' longing gaze at the bowl of treats. I froze. My childhood innocence manifested itself into a stressful environment with an encroaching future and changed perspective of the world. I remained myself throughout the years, but my view on anticipation for the future, my ways of relaxation and my mindset of the world changed dramatically.
The boys' high pitched giggles reminded me of my impatient youth that could not wait for life to pass me by: for holidays, for school, or to grow a little older. Anticipation to unfold the future filled me with a spunk that energized the passage of time to whizz by. Now, I cling on to every nostalgic moment wishing for its return, to tether me down, to prolong the responsibly creeping up on me. Some of the responsibilities allow me to decide for myself and be a trustworthy person. Little me dreamed of the capabilities granted to me now; I drive myself anywhere want without the hinderance of constantly needing supervision and late nights out with friends that go well past my old bedtime. I gained more respect by my elders and teacher. I never stopped aspiring to live by the standards that I laid out for myself. As a youngster, in a world forged by adults, I portrayed a grown, sophisticated individual hopefully accepted into the exclusive world that only age that could bring entry. I proved myself to be wrong and right; I gained trust and respect but in the process I t...
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That night transported me to happier times. Blowing the candles out on my eighteenth birthday blew away my childhood; however it permitted me rights for passage into mature responsibility. Racing toward an unknown goal, waiting for the payoff and realizing a little too late that the payoff happens to sit right in front of my eyes: to enjoy every aspect of the present. I long for my youth to return to me but now understand the responsibility of adulthood. As I progress further into my age, I will not forget the joy youth brought me, but instead, carry it along with me. I only wish that I cherished those silly times while they still belonged to me. Now I hope to make new adventures as an adult and cherish all life offers that I overlooked in my endless joy as a child. I hope with my rapid growth I still fit inside those wonderful boxes.
The article “A Letter To My Younger Self” written by Terrance Thomas is made to motivate readers, especially teenagers that share similar concerns and emotions as the author’s younger self. By writing a letter to his younger self, Terrance created a motivational and melancholic tone. The style of writing is, therefore, informal with a poetic touch to it. The article is written to motivate readers which results in it to have a motivational and melancholic tone. “Those moments of fear, inadequacy, and vulnerability that you have been running from, are the moments that will shape you.”.
His demonstrated the childhood of a kid who replicates similar characteristics as myself. We were both energetic creative adolescents; our minds would soar to heights beyond the average ten-year-old. With that being said, our childhoods did in fact contrast through what we each experienced. While I had an adamant parental involvement during my life, Timmy had little to none. I was giving the opportunity to stay home alone, Timmy was forced with an evil babysitter. Nonetheless, what I did find interesting was that having our childhood experiences be orchestrated differently, profoundly embellished our analogous personalities. It was Timmy's neglection from his parents that made him this vigorous imaginative kid. It was the affection from my parents that triggered this spirited visionary of a child I
ThThe notion of getting older, one day has too frightened me. I wonder what could I have done in the past to change the future. I reminisce of all the things I have done with the people that I love. But, at the end the day, I look forward to getting older. I look forward to the memories that I will make, which one day will be stories told between two friends or family members about their crazy grandmother Gabriella. E.B. White 's essay represents the fears that adults, but mostly parents, face when seeing children grow up and experience life the same way they once did. These nostalgic moments turn to fear of losing their youth. I believe that White 's essay is a manifestation of a mid-life crisis that fails to show what life has to offer after
Marita Bonner starts her short essay by describing the joys and innocence of youth. She depicts the carefree fancies of a cheerful and intelligent child. She compares the feelings of such abandonment and gaiety to that of a kitten in a field of catnip. Where the future is opened to endless opportunities and filled with all the dream and promises that only a youth can know. There are so many things in the world to see, learn, and experience that your mind in split into many directions of interest. This is a memorable time in life filled with bliss and lack of hardships.
My mind started to wonder though each room of the house, the kitchen where mom used to spend every waking hour in. The music room where dad maintained the instrument so carefully like one day people would come and play them, but that day never came, the house was always painfully empty. The house never quite lived to be the house my parents wanted, dust bunnies always danced across the floor, shelves were always slightly crooked even when you fixed them. My parents were from high class families that always had some party to host. Their children were disappointments, for we
In her short story Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been, Joyce Carol Oates presents us with a well known maxim: children cannot wait to get older. Tired of her boring and powerless childhood, Connie, the main character, searches for cheap thrills she likens to adulthood. Thus, Connie’s surreal experience (Arnold Friend’s sudden and unwanted appearance in his car) represents a suppressed fear of the inevitable and unknown - growing up.
At the age of 9, a little girl is counting down the days until her next birthday because double digits are a big deal. Now she is 12 and is still counting the days until she can call herself a teenager. For years people cannot wait to be another year older… until they actually become older. As people grow up they accept that maturing means taking on responsibilities and adulthood. Having sleepovers and play-dates, taking naps, and climbing the monkey bars becomes taboo. The simplistic life of a child quickly changes into the dull reality of school and work. People will spend years wishing they were older; but when the time comes, they hope to go back to their innocence. In The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger writes a stream of consciousness
A child’s coming of age is a universal and inevitable transition that Seth does not foresee or even expect, and until looking back on it almost thirty-five years later, he does not realize the true significance of his passage. That day Seth’s very foundations were rocked as his eyes were opened to the world and its ways. When the story begins Seth’s transition has already begun to take place, and the smooth and repetitive rhythm of his life that has always brought him so much comfort slowly begins to crumble. Even such a small and seemingly insignificant thing as not being allowed to go outside in June without shoes, something which he has always been able to do, puzzles and confuses Seth. The appearance of the odd and out of place stranger even further fascinates and bewilders the small boy. Seth’s world begins to spin even faster and stranger as he sees Dellie, a woman that he has always thought he knew so well and even refers to her as being methodical as a machine, violently strikes her son as he has never seen her do and later as Old Jebb questions Seth’s mother’s very words. Until that day, Seth has never considered the fact that things would ever any different than they always had been.
...hen you reach the end the boy has taken a turn and instantly matures in the last sentence. Something like that doesn’t just happen in a matter of seconds. Therefore the readers gets the sense that the narrator is the boy all grown up. He is recollecting his epiphany within the story allowing the readers to realize themselves that the aspiration to live and dream continues throughout the rest of ones life. The narrator remembers this story as a transformation from innocence to knowledge. Imagination and reality clearly become two different things to the narrator; an awareness that everyone goes though at some point in their life. It may not be as dramatic as this story but it gradually happens and the innocence is no longer present.
When I was younger, I always wanted to be an adult. I was fortunate enough to have enjoyed a happy childhood, but something about being an adult mesmerized me. As I've gotten older, however, I've realized the naivety of this misconception and I've seen the struggles of adulthood firsthand.Back then, I had no idea that my transition to adulthood would occur much sooner than expected and in a way that no one should have to endure. When I was sixteen years old, my transition to adulthood was marked by my unexpected responsibility as a caregiver for my ill mother.
As a child growing up in a rural county, I didn’t have soccer practice or dance recitals; no play dates or playgrounds. I had trees to climb, woods to explore, bikes to ride and adventures to be had. I had bare feet in the grass, wincing on the gravel driveway, rocks digging into my soles. I had walnuts to crush, plums to eat, flowers to pick, bugs to catch. I had my little brothers to bug me, my mom to take care of me, my dad to laugh with me and my grandparents to hold me. I had books to read, worlds of words to get lost in. I had Saturday morning cartoons, Sunday morning church, and fireflies to catch every night.
There comes a significant time in everyone’s life when we reach the point that we are no longer seen as children, but as adults. This transition from childhood into adulthood is often referred to as the “coming of age” stage or growing up. The transitional stage of life occurs differently in everyone, which is why the initiation of change differ in “Quinceanera” by Judith Ortiz Cofer, “The Lesson” by Toni Cade Bambara, and “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” by Joyce Carol Oates. These three pieces of literature all embody the “coming of age” theme. Some people reach this special point in their life by simply grasping a better understanding of what is going on in the world around them, by suffering from a tragic event, or by being honored with a traditional celebration. All of these events mark the passing of a person from one stage of life to the next and what is known as this “coming of age” phage of life is one of the most popular themes expressed in literature.
The small legs that whisked back and forth in the open space of the vehicle were full of energy. The young girl spent the day with the two people she admired the most. A bigger version of herself sat in the passenger seat with her husband driving next to her. They laughed over conversation. Every so often, the girl would stick thin fingers against her mother’s shoulder to receive her attention. She would say something trivial and obvious, but her mother would still entertain her. She absorbed every phrase her daughter said as if each filled her with a tremendous joy and was the greatest thing ever spoken. Her mother had selected a black dress for her today with a large white ribbon tied around her midsection. Her hair had been combed back in two braids so that the tips were touching her shoulder blades. They were coming home late from a Christmas party at church.
The fleeting changes that often accompany seasonal transition are especially exasperated in a child’s mind, most notably when the cool crisp winds of fall signal the summer’s end approaching. The lazy routine I had adopted over several months spent frolicking in the cool blue chlorine soaked waters of my family’s bungalow colony pool gave way to changes far beyond the weather and textbooks. As the surrounding foliage changed in anticipation of colder months, so did my family. My mother’s stomach grew larger as she approached the final days of her pregnancy and in the closing hours of my eight’ summer my mother gently awoke me from the uncomfortable sleep of a long car ride to inform of a wonderful surprise. No longer would we be returning to the four-story walk up I inhabited for the majority of my young life. Instead of the pavement surrounding my former building, the final turn of our seemingly endless journey revealed the sprawling grass expanse of a baseball field directly across from an unfamiliar driveway sloping in front of the red brick walls that eventually came to be know as home.
...stern parent and learning to keep my sanity. As an adult today I thank my mother for all the hard work and examples she set forth. There are personal instances that one experience’s fallacies of adolescent thinking, imaginary audience and or personal fable. These are aspects of thinking develop in adolescence. The stage I recall was the adolescent thinking. I thought everyone was as aware of my own awkwardness as I was when in fact they had their own issues to deal with. My crucial teenage years developed in high-school. I expressed the stage of foreclosure as well as identity achievement. This is considered a period of intense self-exploration called identity crisis that we all in some point of our adolescent lives go through. For some it takes going through all four stages such as: identity diffusion, foreclosure, moratorium to finally reach identity achievement.