Undergraduate / "good and bad consequences of my own curiosity" - commonapp essay. [11]

ITS A LITTLE TOO LONG I GUESS AND IT STILL NEEDS A LOT OF EDITING.=) OH AND GRAMMAR CORRECTIONS ARE APPRECIATED.=)

Curiosity kills the cat. Well in this case, the victim is me and the killing part is a slow, on-going process already underway. Rather than the victim, I regard myself as the beneficiary of both good and bad consequences of my own curiosity. The transition between a puff and addiction was way too fast for me to handle and eventually got me in its stranglehold without even realizing. Yet, without regret, I still choose to celebrate life with a stick of cigarette. The term 'celebrating life' may seem to be a little ironic considering the well known relations between smoking and death itself. But life is all about making the right choices and if you feel good with what you do, then I'd say go ahead even if it involves welcoming a future of tar covered lungs.

Without having any burden of responsibility, lighting up the first stick was the decisive turning point, the altercation of the course of my future indefinitely. With the first puff I got dizzy, dizzy enough to get me tripping off the stairs and bruising my elbows. Then again, history has proved the tendency of us humans to rule against common sense and continue with self-destructive behaviors. The question is, have I come to make a matured, well thought decision or am I just plain naïve?

Being only 14, I was on a high with the new-found outlet to my rebellious nature. I craved for recognition and I loved the attention be it good or bad. A lost cause, my aspirations of success serves only as a thing of the past, clouded by my ego of being the new bad boy in the block. My future looked bleak, and only God knows what other things I might get myself involved with in the future. But even with all the so-called 'respect' that I was getting, my insecurities got the better of me, plummeting me in a state of depression whenever I'm alone with no one there to 'admire' or 'respect' me.

As bad as things were, it could not get any worse compared to the dreaded moment of every guilt filled childhood experience - retribution. I was caught red-handed by my dad and there and then I knew what was coming. I stood there motionless, waiting for the hand of divine intervention to grace my cheeks with its blessings and lead me back to the path of righteousness but to my astonishment, it never came. Instead, I was served with what could probably be the worst form of punishment ever - the 'look' .The look of disappointment, chagrin, a concoction of anger and sorrow which spells out the word "I give up on you" all so clearly only through the eyes itself.

Yes, what's expected is of course for me to stop and repent just like in the movies. However, I was weak. The thought of quitting certainly crossed my mind many times, even more times than I could keep track off, but I just can't seem to muster enough willpower to gain the upper hand against my nicotine cravings.

Heroism turned into animosity, and with prejudice against oneself leading the way, everything starts to turn out wrongly. So wrong that everyone looks down on you. So wrong to the extent of people accusing you of cheating when you get good exam grades. "A boy who smokes is a bad boy, and bad boys only get good grades by cheating" says the perfect human being, or so he thinks he is. With that, I found a new passion, a need to retaliate, a driving force behind my efforts, the motivation to achieve success and prove everyone wrong. As much as I hated being judged, I hate myself even more for judging others in the past without getting to know them all this while.

I don't boast the fact that I'm a smoker, neither do I chase the title of being the best role model for school children. But by proving to be one of the best students in school, I am proud to say that I succeeded in bringing down the wall of prejudice against us smokers among my peers and authorities. Justifying for a fact that everybody has their own weaknesses, but certainly not incapable of achieving great things just as much as those who are perceived to be perfect. The reality that everybody has a mind of his own and sees things from different angles does not give any individual the power to play God and blatantly deeming another one's actions to be right or wrong.

The whole process of falling and picking myself up again is the basis of the achievements that I have rightfully earned thus far. I don't see myself liberated by the social perspective of an ideal student, rather I chose to model myself to be the person who I am truly satisfied with. I've made my choices and I am proud of who I am today. Besides, if you are impressed with my story thus far, would I even have a story to begin with, if I didn't light up the first stick?