space out to grasp onto thoughts of realization. Days passed by as if they were battling with the wind. I cannot embrace every memory‚ because some just happen too rapid that remembering them is ineffectual. Curiosity starts building within me due to my wonders on memories everyone knows I went through except myself. When I was twelve I opened a family album for the first time. As I flipped each page I did it in such slow motion that it was as if by flipping the pages too fast it would trigger the
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rather a who. The combination of my parents and my younger sister has been with me since my earliest memories. In my house‚ however‚ understood affection was the standard‚ as my parents were often busy. Both of them work in the healthcare fields and as such worked long‚ irregular hours. This gave me isolation‚ possibly a dangerous factor to work with. Yet‚ without that very isolation‚ I would be missing the most integral part of who Dylan Sreshta is today. Leaving me to my own devices gave me ample time
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My drinking despite efforts to control consumption has recently resulted in overconsumption‚ to a destructive point. Despite periods of abstinence during the past ten years I have been drinking all my life. Some periods without excessive drunkenness and some periods of heavy drinking; since being married for 7 years to my wife Mei Wen‚ who does not drink or use drugs my drinking has impacted her life in a way that I see is hurtful toward her and our relationship. It was the most recent overboard
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words that trembled and traumatized my thoughts. In a flashback‚ I realized I was the same parent-centered child‚ that was raised to obey and not question the parents’ authority. I remember my parents asking “What do you want to be when you grow up?” In response‚ ” I had no clue.” They constantly encouraged me to go to college throughout my high school career. If for some reason I had to stay for my AP class‚ they would motivate me. High school was the time in my life‚ where I had to apply to higher
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My first memory involving religion of any kind is when my grandmother was my temporary Sunday school teacher. This memory had absolutely nothing to do with reading the bible or praying or doing anything of that sort. I have no idea why I remember it either. The memory is of about four other kids and me sitting around the Sunday school table while my grandma sang a song about our ancestry and how it didn’t start with monkeys. The song went like this “I’m no kin to the monkey‚ the monkey’s no kin to
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begin my underwater pullout. As the race continues I push myself harder and harder as I begin to fatigue until I finish. Looking up at the clock I think to myself‚ I need to go faster‚ I can go faster‚ I will go faster. I hop out of the water and take my spot in line behind my teammates‚ preparing for the second of six 100 yard breaststroke sprints from the blocks. From each team‚ BGSC to PAA to LOSC I have forged friendships and emotional bonds with my teammates found almost nowhere else in my life;
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up in a rural community‚ there was little diversity where i was from. From racist slurs to actually yelling at a minority‚ i could tell there was a problem at the age of 6. When my mom and I moved after my parents divorce‚ we lived in a primarily black community. Over the next six years of my life‚ I did not only expand my knowledge‚ but I learned how to accept and embrace others whom were different than myself. When I was
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To begin with‚ when I was a little girl I lived in South Central Los Angeles‚ California with my two parents whom the names are Arturo Ferreiro and Cynthia Contreras. We all lived in one small pink house with my grandmother named Yolanda Contreras. My parents worked so hard to move from the ghetto. My mother once said to my grandmother “ I don’t want my daughter to distinguish the negativity.” There were so many crimes around our area and honestly‚ it was dense to walk around the neighborhood without
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glacier treks and overnighters at least. As a hobby or extracurricular activity‚ it’s probably my biggest passion. So much that I found that writing of them is like having the opportunity to do each one over again. Once upon a time I set forth a book project‚ a story telling‚ you might say‚ of all my treks including the ascent of five mountains. However‚ I lacked the confidence of presenting a way to share my stories of me being the key subject. Eventually the project lost steam and fell to the wayside
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do know the profound impact sports have had on my adult life. I was struggling to reconnect with who I was when I was younger. Many ways were suggested on how I should go about this‚ but my favorite suggestion came from my family. They showed me many pictures and videos of me playing sports‚ horsing around with team mates‚ and holding trophies or awards. In every shred of those digital memories‚ there was an unmistakable happiness in my eyes‚ and in my smile. This immediately drew me in. From that
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