Essay

Essay I came across Pride and Prejudice at a cheap bookstore, it was all weathered and yellowed and had the dusty scent of a book that was well worn in. I judged the book by its pretty, lavender cover and just had to buy it. At first read, I was enamoured with Mr. Darcy, yearning for a love story as deep and profound as in the novel. Little, fifth grade me just hoped that maybe the next day in class the boy sitting next to me might profess that he loved me all along. When I finished Pride and Prejudice, I thought it would quickly be replaced by another book and my love for it left behind snug in the worn out pages of my copy. I found more happy endings after that, not all too surprising but none had the same effect as Pride and Prejudice&mash;that feeling of a book leaving its fingerprint on you. Until recently, I felt little obligation to involve myself in any substantive way with humanity as a whole. But no matter how many times a promise is broken, I’ve always wanted to believe that someone will keep one to me. Thanks to that first morning on Fall Creek, I’ve found a calling that consumes my free time, compels me to teach fly fishing to others, and drives what I want to study in college. I caught that 10-inch fryling five years ago on Fall Creek using a $5 fly rod given to me by my neighbor Gil. The creek is spectacular as it cascades down the 150-foot drop of Ithaca Falls. Only 100-feet further, however, it runs past a decrepit gun factory and underneath a graffitied bridge before flowing adjacent to my high school and out to Cayuga Lake. On an almost daily basis I was asked to defend my views on a subject, but my debating skills were limited to logical fallacies and ad hominem attacks so I wasn’t too successful. In my eyes it didn’t matter what I said because I was right and they were wrong. There’s no one right thing to say in an essay, but these Johnnies may be a source of inspiration. Although they're phrased differently from college to college, certain essay question types appear routinely. What makes all these hooks stand out is the element of curiosity that forces readers to wonder how the entire story unfolds. Reflect on experiences or turning points in your life that shaped your perception of the world. Also, you can recall some jokes or personal anecdote to dilute your story with catchy, humorous elements. Aside from the falls, the creek is largely overlooked. Nearly all of the high school students I know who cross that bridge daily do so with no thought of the creek below. Thanks to all authors for creating a page that has been read 91,938 times. Word counts depend on the college or university in question. Start your essay with a good quote or a statement that reflects your whole theme perfectly. Make sure you write real experiences and do not make up stories. Reading allowed me to feel connected with important ideas and values that were scarce in my surroundings. These endeavors were formative, and I do not regret them. However, in their extremity, they were defense mechanisms against the demands of the world, and they were not sustainable. In trying to cultivate my own separate reality, concerned predominantly with my own experience, I became drained and depressed. Before I had defined this connection as one of my most important values, I experimented with various methods of separation. In bursts of inspiration I would “homeschool” myself, withdrawing into seclusion. I read books about agriculture, built a chicken coop and a garden, and even slept outside in my family’s field. I found these methods of occupying my time to be more fulfilling than the types of entertainment, namely social media, being employed by those around me. On several occasions throughout my childhood, I decided to become a “scholar;” I would hole myself up with books that I couldn’t quite understand and pore over the pages until my eyes ached. I am developing self-awareness, but I still have so much to learn. I want to travel to actual countries and take pictures on a bunch of disposable cameras because there is something magic about those blurry images that develop in the dark. I want to scale real mountains, close my eyes and sit cross-legged on their tops while the whole world around me spins wildly into the future. At some point in everyone’s life, a promise stops being forever.