Undergraduate /
Third person perspective essay? too pretentious? [8]
i can put up what i have so far....
What is the purpose of life? The answer has eluded from my grasp for years. A lucky few find it with ease and some never see it during their lifetime. It is a powerful ultimatum that justifies every breath you take and every action you perform. As I travel deeper and deeper into my psyche, the answer conceals itself even more, turning the whole endeavor into a childish game of hide-and-seek. I begin my journey in this vast and endless desert filled with past memories, to find the essence of who I am and the meaning of my life.
From a distance, I see a large structure surrounded by metal fences. There is a green gate on the side that leads into the building. I walk inside and see a group of young boys sitting around. Their attentions were fixated on two boys who were hula-hooping, one of whom I recognize. Determination and focus was in his eyes. He had fiercely practiced all week before this competition, day and night, even staying up until two, despite his mother's wishes. His concentration was unbreakable and his motions were constant and crisp. His purpose was to be the best. All of a sudden, the boy next to him has a mental lapse, his eyes widen as he tries to recover from his mistake, but it was too late; his hula-hoop slips and thuds on the ground. The class cheers as the boy comes out victorious. Suddenly, the walls start to fade into the ground and the children slowly disappear one by one. At the end, the only thing left of the surrounding is the red hula-hoop that belonged to the determined little boy. I pick it up and continue on with my journey.
There is a large ambiguous figure ahead. I slowly stride towards it. It is a person sitting in a desk and another standing by his shoulder. The figure standing is the same boy from the hula-hoop contest, matured into a young teenager, and the figure in the desk is his brother. His eyes are still swelling with determination, yet his purpose had changed. I look on top of the desk to see what they were working on. It is a writing assignment. The boy standing explains how to connect ideas effectively and how to convey feelings using strong adjectives. He gives him examples and carefully goes over the prompt. He knew that he was no trained professional, but it was heart-breaking for him to see others fail. He wanted to use the fullest extent of his abilities to make an effort to help others, especially his own brother. His purpose was to teach. Other's success brought him joy, knowing that he had contributed towards it. As he leans over the desk, he drops his pencil. I quickly pick it up and offer it to him. Only, the desk had disappeared and so did the figures. I put the pencil in my left pocket and move on towards the sandy horizon.
