Undergraduate / The creation of something original, something to call your own - UF [4]

I just wrote it so tell me what you think and wat i should do to improve it, thank you.

The creation of something, something original, something to call your own; there is no feeling like it. Since I was a young I always had strong passion for art and the creation of something groundbreaking and imaginative. The day I knew I wanted to be an architect, oh the feeling, tingles down my spine, walking on air; I was complete. It was freshman year, the architecture teacher spoke of his class, his dry,hoarse voice echoed with wisdom of his passion which at that moment, I came to a realization that I shared, Architecture.

With each stroke, each moment of contact when my pencil touched paper in and out of architecture class I knew what I was to be. In this place of peace and serenity, not a care in the world save for freeing myself entirely. The shape and form began materializing on paper, and all that went on in my mind was anything to do with the creation of a space, of which people would be wowed. These past three years of high school, I put my self through one of the most rigorous and prestigious architecture programs in the US, at a school ranked 8th in the nation just last year. In those three years I thrived on every piece of knowledge I could get my hands on from internships with well known architects, one of which is on University Florida's board of architecture, to community service projects. My first feeling of true architectural construction was during sophomore year at a countywide sandcastle competition. I felt very small being one of four students chosen to compete against 15 of Miami's top architecture firms. Confidence guarantees success; I am filled with assurance that one day I would be what I dreamed of, an Architect who will set new standards for the world.

Such a drive I have never before known; a supreme love and passion gives me the upper hand. I want to change architecture, to bring it to new heights never seen before, to amaze the world. I have researched many colleges and found UF, a college from which most of my family has graduated, with its wonderful campus and prestigious 5-year bachelors of architecture program to be my next step in a journey to greatness. Your UF campus community will one day be able to be proud of the driven, revolutionary architect it molded and produced.

Undergraduate / 'My popularity' - college experience, your contribution UF admission essay [5]

TOPIC-In the space provided, please write a concise narrative in which you describe a meaningful event, experience or accomplishment in your life and how it will affect your college experience or your contribution to the UF campus community. You may want to reflect on your family, your school or community activities, or your involvement in areas outside of school.

p.s. i need to shorten it a lot, 400 to 500 word max

""The awareness of the ambiguity of one's highest achievements (as well as one's deepest failures) is a definite symptom of maturity", said Paul Tillich US (German-born) Protestant theologian (1886 - 1965). It was a prosperous week for me, school had ended, and I felt I saw the world from a whole new perspective, and it was time for 24/7 entertainment. Thoughts began to materialize in mind, things I had never thought to think. "Mom gone= party;" that was what went on in my right brained self.

My popularity was blossoming and I met new people with each audacious day. Some were tall and lanky, some short and fat, and other medium and average. They came in doses as well, some large and some small. There were good eggs and there were bad eggs, both intrigued me. The minute I had made word of it, and I don't know what mechanism all teenagers have in their brain, but the same ludicrous idea hit us all. "Party at Dom's house!" Before I could tap into the mature, righteous person I thought myself to be, the party was on and I was full of adrenaline and raging hormones egging me on. It was as if the little angel that used to reside on my left shoulder had gone on leave, and the only resident lay on my right, dressed in red, with a pitchfork in hand.

Thursday. Time to start planning. "Who do we invite?" someone said, and names were bellowed out by each and every person ; it sounded busier than the stock brokers on Wall Street. From this turmoil hollering came a list. 17 names, 17 people, and this list slanted toward women of course. So there I stood, paper in hand with a list if names with numbers beside them all bubbled up to 17. "No", it was my conscience speaking, my good conscience. This squeaky, almost inaudible voice was telling me the right thing to do, which was tear up the paper and call the whole thing off. However, before I could think what to do, that voice was once again muted by my teenage instincts, which were telling me to "party, party, and party some more"

Friday morning today was the day. On this morning I woke up around the same time I do every summer morning, and ate the same Grape Nuts cereal I ate every morning. Something was different that day; there was something in the air. My breakfast tasted better than it ever had, cleaning the dishes felt more like a cheer than a chore, and those 20 steps to the trash room with numerous recyclables and trash bags felt like a walk in the park. I felt like a king, and I should, because on this night I was throwing a party, and it was going to trump all others.

Saturday morning, "17 year old dies in fatal, single car accident after leaving party under the influence of alcohol." I arrived home that day at around 2pm, feeling as fly as Miles Davis in his heyday. I greeted my pops and proceeded to my room to take a much-needed post-party-nap after a sleepless night and a morning of cleaning. My dad called me. "Domenic", I scurried back to the kitchen where he sat reading the Saturday paper. "Can you believe this?" he asked. A 17-year-old girl had died last night when she smashed head on into a tree; she had no seatbelt on and was killed instantly. My heart began to pound so loud I could hear it; my color began to fade, and my knees weakened... had someone left my party drunk? Had died? My inner persona, my goodness and maturity suddenly surfaced and I began thinking about all the bad things, the horrible things that could have happened. Needless to say, I would be grounded for a very long time, but what if they found out the party was mine? My parents could be sued for all they have, I could be sent to juvenal hall, arrested, who knows. Suddenly every phone call, every single disturbing ring, made my heart stop because I kept thinking that the person on the other line could be either the cops or someone who knew this girl. I immediately regretted the whole thing, this whole party that I had. I wished I never had it. I felt completely and utterly responsible for the death of this girl. This whole situation left a knot in my stomach; food tasted terrible, TV was horrendous. As I washed the dishes I stared at the scum left on the ceramic plate and I felt myself to be lower than that scum. That night I did not catch a wink of sleep; I was up all night thinking about this girl. I immediately jumped out of bed and scrammed to the kitchen. I had to read that article, I had to walk the plank and see whether she was a friend of mine, or someone who was at my party. I took the newspaper under my arm and took the most disturbing 20 steps back to my room, flipped the light on and read the article.

Following Friday, my mother's discovery. She came to the conclusion from the long colorful jubilee of hairs in her pool filter and the scuffed tile floor, that I had had a fiesta at her home while she was away. I was ready for the punishment, for I knew what the consequences could have been if some left my party drunk and then drove, or if someone stole from the house, or even if someone slipped and fell. The consequences of having an unsupervised party with alcohol aboard is headed for trouble in the future, or better yet now. I am much more mature than the child that submitted to peer pressure that week following the end of the school year. I had also learned that it was wrong what I did to my parents. They trusted me and I went behind their backs and had a party that could have ruined everything; I mean people were drinking, and bad things could have happened. It was a miracle something did not. Integrity and maturity are the two most important things we have, and without either of those you are an incomplete person. What I am trying to express is that on the UF campus I will not be a party animal. I am going to be the guy that takes your keys away if I see you drinking, or calling you a cab, or driving you home. I'm going to be the guy that never drinks, and never falls for peer pressure. I am going to be the good influence on the UF campus community. Because when you get down to brass tacks, UF is a college and there are parties with drinking every single week. Most of the campus will put off their studies for the following day, get drunk, and make some bad decision. However, if you have one person, an influential guy that every one looks to as the man on campus and he is the only one not drunk, that is the influence people will see. Although I cannot stop all the parties, I mean people have to keep their sanity, but I will help it all from getting out of control, because I felt what it is like when the consequences arrive and I do not want to see that happen again. Accept me and I will contribute integrity and maturity to you UF campus community."