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Essay: Finding Myself

Essay By: Kuatsimoto
Memoir


It is something that i had to write for school. I am not as good as i am with poems but i would really like what people think about it.


Submitted:Sep 19, 2008    Reads: 793    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


Being a child that has been given everything I ever needed, my perspective of life
has been one of carefree silence. I never spoke my emotions too well and my goals were
full of dreams that deep down I knew I never dreamt. I never had to worry about that
though because I could be anything I want, or so I was told. That being clear, I was given
every chance in the world, and being the natural procrastinator I am, my goals were
secretly repressed, hidden between dreams and reality, until they were eventually
forgotten.
My childhood was normal enough. I was average at school, but I still managed to
pass all of my classes. I was not good at writing and my English teacher despised my
poor spelling skills, but I was never concerned. My worries always drifted into the
deepest corner of my mind where they were forgotten until someone or something drew
them back out. By repressing all of my worries I also accomplished in repressing all of
my feelings. I never expressed my feelings to someone else well. It wasn't that I was
embarrassed, I just never knew how. My goals and dreams were repressed along with my
feelings, and it wasn't until it seemed my ambitions would never rise that a spark of hope
shone in that dark corner of my mind.
My sixth grade English teacher was the one to find my passion in life. She made
us read books that actually interested me. That was the first time a Harry Potter book
came to my hands, my mind would never let go. I would sit until midnight reading! My
brain was overflowed as all of my feelings, portrayed in the pages, came rushing at me
like a tidal wave. It was like seeing myself in the mirror for the first time. I could now
portray my feelings better to people and I was even talking more fluidly than before, but I
still felt something missing.
As I reached high school my reading was gradually getting better. I was reading
college level material now and a lot of my friends mocked me for it. Around the middle
of ninth grade, we did a segment on poetry. By the time we finished Shakespeare's
Romeo and Juliet, I thought poetry was never going to be in my interest. Imagine my
disappointment when we had to do a sonnet of our own of the thing we love most! After
listening to our teacher's lame poem about his mother "buttering his buns" we each set
out on trying to figure out our love in life. Most people wrote of their moms, or the stars.
Some wrote on the girl next door or the sandwich they ate that one day. My greatest love
in life was and still is, well, life. As I worked on that poem and I poured my feelings into
it. The feelings that were reflected into me while reading were thrust out into the paper in
front of me. When I finally finished and looked it over it was like listening to someone
else. I couldn't comprehend that I could write so much feeling with so much power. I had
finally learned how to talk to the world.
I regret never being able to set a goal as a child. My whole life has revolved on
how to open the door to my hidden dreams that I held since my childhood. Sometimes I
come close and parts of my thoughts click together with my feelings, but sometimes it
seems so far, I almost give up. The search seems endless, but there is hope. By telling my
feelings to the world and, most importantly, myself, I feel I can finally find the door to
my dreams. Only by finding myself will I find that elusive path I've been searching for.





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