Shiro
Dec 1, 2015
Undergraduate / Seconds become minutes, and then hours, and then days, but I will value every single one. [2]
Stanford short: What matters to you, and why?(100 to 250 words)
Is this essay depressing in a bad way, off-topic, or just not good enough? Thank you for the help!
A second becomes a minute, a minute becomes an hour, an hour becomes a day, and soon enough, a year has passed. It was like that for the color blue. The sky in Beijing, China when I first visited was a clear cerulean. A dome of endless blue that caressed the city skyline with an untainted innocence. But four years was all it took to smear a thick layer of gray over it. The smoke seeps into every corner of the city. It veils your eyes and forces its way into your throat. This was my second visit, full of coughing fits and dry lips. I missed the China of my childhood, when I didn't have to worry about the severe pollution or how dirty the rain was.
Time flies. It flies on wings that beat to the rhythm of the ticking second hand. The city shrouded in gray taught me this. I see more than ever the seconds in life that drift away from the end of my grandmother's cigarette and the glaring orange bottles of medicine on my father's desk. My younger brother suddenly shot up and is taller than me now. My older brother is about to graduate college and find a job. I think about how fast things can change in a moment without me even noticing.
Seconds become minutes, and then hours, and then days, but I will value every single one.
Stanford short: What matters to you, and why?(100 to 250 words)
Is this essay depressing in a bad way, off-topic, or just not good enough? Thank you for the help!
A second becomes a minute, a minute becomes an hour, an hour becomes a day, and soon enough, a year has passed. It was like that for the color blue. The sky in Beijing, China when I first visited was a clear cerulean. A dome of endless blue that caressed the city skyline with an untainted innocence. But four years was all it took to smear a thick layer of gray over it. The smoke seeps into every corner of the city. It veils your eyes and forces its way into your throat. This was my second visit, full of coughing fits and dry lips. I missed the China of my childhood, when I didn't have to worry about the severe pollution or how dirty the rain was.
Time flies. It flies on wings that beat to the rhythm of the ticking second hand. The city shrouded in gray taught me this. I see more than ever the seconds in life that drift away from the end of my grandmother's cigarette and the glaring orange bottles of medicine on my father's desk. My younger brother suddenly shot up and is taller than me now. My older brother is about to graduate college and find a job. I think about how fast things can change in a moment without me even noticing.
Seconds become minutes, and then hours, and then days, but I will value every single one.
