Essay

Thinking about tomorrow doesn't seem to bad. I mean its just thinking of things like what are tomorrows workouts? Or is my grade in this class going to be updated?

She stood on her tippy toes and grasped onto the windowsill with the chipping lead paint. 

The one thing Mia wished she could do was go outside. However, she couldn't because she is trapped inside the tallest tower. Ok, maybe she wasn't trapped in a tower but it felt like it most of the time.

For a large portion of my life, I have been a hunter, and I see that as something that defines me. When I was a young boy, around six or seven years old, my dad would take me hunting.

Maddie was sitting in her social studies class, her teacher Mrs. Smith was talking to the class. She was known for just babbling on about her personal life and talking way too much then she should.

Just because I am a female does not mean I cant do things the society considers "a mans thing." I have been told by many that because I am a female I should stay home and clean and do school.

Perfection: a flawless state in which everything is exactly right. Today, I will be answering the question, “Why do we strive for perfection, even if it isn’t attainable? The first thing that we need to answer is, ‘what is perfection?’.

Being famous is fun and it has its advantages, but at this point I just want to be a regular, average person again. There are good parts yes, like the money, having fun, and people knowing you.

The struggles of fame

The tree I chose is a japanese maple. The japanese maple is a vibrant red in the spring and summer. The tree itself is green or brown. Mine is green, They can be from 2 to 30 feet tall. Japanese maple at full age like sunlight.

The feeling of new is sickeningly addictive. From a young age, we quickly discover that new stuff makes us "happy." New toys or foods or places or clothes, bring us so much excitement and temporary joy, that for a moment we forget all other worries.

To be a writer is to be many things, and before one considers putting pen to paper and writing those first, flurrying words, let me tell you: it is too late.