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Essays on perseverance
Essays on perseverance
Motivational short essay
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Where Are You Going, Chickadee?
The wind tore at me. Dragging, wrenching.
“Where are you going?” The tiny voice beside me was attached to a boy. I wanted him to leave. “Why are you on the wrong side of the road?” I faltered against the wind, pressing my foot hard into the ground, attempting in vain to control my footing. “I can see your wings. Why don’t you fly?”
I wanted to scream. Not only did I have to battle the wind, but I had that childish voice constantly biting at me. “They don’t work.” My words were small but testy.
“Have you even tried?” He moved easily behind me, looking at the wings poking out from behind. “They are quite beautiful. Why not give it a go.”
I pressed back the emotions that began to rise, the distraction causing
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Failed. Period.” I took another halted step, choosing to ignore the rise of failure and shame that washed over me.
He looked at me wanting more.
“They weren’t strong enough. I let them expand, rising and falling with each breath. It was glorious, at first. Until a gust of wind hit me hard, thrusting me into the sky. I lost control and flew into the hydro wires. I messed up.”
“You didn’t fry!”
“Clearly, I’m still here.”
“Yes. With wings!”
“That don’t work! Nothing ever works.”
“They might if you took off your sweater.”
“I don’t know how.”
“You don’t know how to remove a sweater?” He eyed me like I was lacking some primary mental functions.
I had the sweater on for so long I just couldn’t take it off. It protected me. “Enough! Get it through your thick skull. I can’t fly. Period. Dreams don’t come true. Not for you or anyone else. It is all luck and who you know. The world will do nothing for you. It’s time you realized that.”
The boy continued walking without comment.
“Why are you following me?”
“I’m not. This is the way I have to go.”
“On the wrong side of the
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But was I glad? Really glad somebody left me alone in the dirt? Why did I want to be alone so badly I would hurt a person to accomplish it? I wanted to cry, but nothing would come. Pain held tight like a fist.
“Where are you going, Chickadee?”
Nowhere. Anywhere. Here.
“I am Peter.”
Good for you.
“I am Peter, and you are you, and I’m here to rescue you.”
Oh may the rhyming continue, but before I could finish my inner critique I felt a tug and a steady ripping as Peter cut into my sweater. I pulled back in alarm. “What the hell?”
The cloth fell away. I could feel my wings starting to rise, aching from the constant restraint. The man was angry by my reaction. “You have a gift you hide. All I did was remove your comfort. Stretch through the pain. It will pass and your mind will turn to the next pain, a new pain to stretch through.”
“They don’t work.” As my words poured out in a panicked furry the wind picked up, filling my wings, expanding to their full span. “I can’t.” Fear overwhelmed me.
“You look like you’re doing all right.”
I was hovering on the spot. I pumped my wings letting the wind pull them, rising higher into the sky. I closed my eyes feeling the cool wind on my face, my old enemy. I heard a whoop from below. It was the boy jumping up and down in glee. I glided down and landed beside him. “I’m sorry I tried to take your gifts from you because I was
“But that night she was like the little tottering, stumbling, clutching child, who all of a sudden realizes its powers, and walks for the first time alone, boldly and with over-confidence. She could have shouted for joy. She did shout for joy, as with a sweeping stroke or two she lifted her body to the surface of the water.
The void in his hopeless eyes was immediately filled with anger. "I didn't kill anyone!" he yelled and tried to lunge at him but the boy was held back by the chains, "I tried to save them but I was too weak to do it on my own! You all left my friends to die..." he lowered his head as tears welled up in his eyes and flowed down his cheeks. "I begged and begged," his voice
When I speak of failure, I speak of putting one’s entire being into attempting a specific task and still not being capable of accomplishing it. Before I took my driver’s test, I practiced driving to and from school almost every day with my mom. When I actually took the test, however, I hit a cone trying to parallel park. A feeling of absolute devastation washed over me, as it began to dawn on me that I would not be showing off my new license to my friends the next day. Upon further introspection, however, I came to the conclusion that there was no one to blame other than myself; and that I may have not prepared for the test as much as I should have.
“Not. I mean no. I’m stuck,” she replied in a breathy voice. He laughed low and rough, warm puffs of his breath hitting her as his hands groped the waist of the skirt again. A few tugs, and it slid down her body to the floor. His blue eyes staring up at her, while her skirt lay puddled in a soft heap on the floor. She struggled to control her breathing.
And if it is true that the lessons we take from failure can be fundamental to later success then I am right. This is where my path to success really begins. It is never late to start again. Small things that aren’t so small can have a big repercussion in someone's life. We as human beings need to learn how to be more loving, respectful and compassionate. I am so proud to be who I am today because of this past experiences. I believe almost everybody has had a time in their lives in which they failed, nobody is perfect. Failure indeed can be fundamental to later success, but the expectations of success are not what people think, at least for me, but I certainly know I'm not
...ally miss anything? Then I had to come to my real senses. I was looking up to the sky searching for ideas, right then and there I remember what Danny said about “you can do anything in this world as long as you believe” as I was looking up I saw this pigeon standing on an electricity wire, then started to wonder if I was a pigeon I don’t think I would have a ride problem. Then I stood up pretend as if I was a pigeon started to jump I noticed the more I believe I can fly the higher I’m getting. So I stop shockingly, I said out loud, I can fly, at this point I had no doubt whatsoever. I quickly walk away from where the pigeon was sitting on the wire; I jumped one last time, next thing I know I was flying my way to school. I had no wings, no cape, nothing weird. Although having these things folks would have found it cool and intrigue but I find even cooler without them.
“Oh my god!” He laid me down on the ground. After that I could only hear faint shouts and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open. My head was swimming like crazy and it seemed all my senses were failing. “Bring the bandages and the first aid kit!”, I heard a distant call. But even through my lack of vision I could see that the call came from a distance of no more than 2 feet of my face. “Keep your eyes open”, “it’s just a little cut” I heard. A sting and a splash indicated the washing of my hand to clean the blood. Then a pang of pain and the soft dab of cotton. My finger tightened as a I felt cloth being tied around it. As I lifted my hand to try and look at the damage, all I could see was fabric that seemed almost dyed in crimson. This was quickly replaced by a new bandage and by now the bleeding had fortunately
All of a sudden, Quinn heard a piercing scream. It was loud, lasting for a half a second. There was no cry of help, just a shriek. Quinn wanted to run. She wanted to hear her feet tapping against the pavement as she left this nightmare. But her legs were frozen to the street. She did start running, more like sprinting, towards the sound. It was stupid, she felt stupid, like some hero, but she no longer had control over her body.
When I had given the boy my final letter, I shouldn't have pretended to be so strong. I looked to the side of my bed, where I noticed a tiny baby-blue flower in a glass vase. I knew it was too late, but I longed to see the boy smiling somewhere. I felt one of his paper planes in my hand and thought of him.
“Come on!”, my sister called. Her voice carried over with the wind. I refused to walk over,and I stood straight, up, as though it would convey
“I said the three things that you told me to say to myself. And I used the feeling that you told me to attach to it. And then I just quieted my mind and just waited there.”
Then all of a sudden, he began to choke, and blood dribbled from his mouth and got on my jacket. "What the hell?!" I yelled. I grabbed his shoulders and stared, astonished, at his face, as he silently pleaded for help. I couldn't handle looking at him anymore and I was frozen in shock, so I let him fall to the ground.
He just threw his advise and vanished as if he was an illusion leaving behind one single evidence of his subsistence - the dried goat’s blood over my face. The short man stayed there longer canvassing the blade in his hand by his eyes covered with alternating glimpse of hesitation and clouds of tenaciousness. I stayed on obnubilating in my shelter until he commenced moving away. Subconsciously, I found me propelling myself up and over with the world around me turning upside down. I felt so weak but my enthusiasm kept me persuading this deep wish of following him.
He swung on the gate and looked down the street Awaiting the sound of familiar feet, Then suddenly came to the sweet child’s eyes the marvelous glory of morning skies; for a manly form, with a steady stride, drew near to the gate that opened wide, as the boy sprang forward and joyfully cried Papas coming !
My mind raced even farther back to all my other failures. I must admit that my record was not very impressive.