I didn't really include a lot about how the experience changed me and I want to know if I should elaborate on that aspect. I know I'm not a very good writer, but I try. ): Help and comments are in dire need! The prompt is: Tell us about an experience in which you left your comfort zone. How did this experience change you?
There are times when I am unusually pessimistic, nights when I cannot bring myself to sleep, hours I spend in absolute solitude-only pondering. Questioning, I fill my head with thoughts and delve into the troubling waters of my mind; sometimes, I ask myself: Why do we live-why do I live? The motivated student persona reasons: to study and learn of the world, attain great marks, thrive intellectually and succeed, with opulence through a showy sense of fashion and perhaps a majestic mansion or luxury sedan; the afflicted spirit screams: Hell to this cruel, materialistic world; die! life is meaningless. These are the times when I leave my comfort zone. And, no, I am not bipolar.
"She likes me..." I slurped the last bubble of tapioca from the clear, plastic cup, "She likes me not." A sound of a low, coarse chuckle of pretense and disappointment escaped my twisted face. Once again, I could not escape my twisted fate.
Earlier, after an unsatisfied, extraordinarily dull day of school, I returned home. Down went my bags onto the floor, my body onto the bed, and my thoughts into a dark abyss. That day, I had failed again; and again, my hopes of succulent confidence were over-burnt, to a dry point beyond retrieval and possible correction. I had attempted to propose love to an attractive female acquaintance; but I failed, and perished to the bottom of the social ladder. Ill of the defeats of a normal teenage boy, my mind sailed out and lost itself in a dark sea of thoughts. Again, I had left my cheery, comfort zone.
Vulnerable and afraid, my thoughts now ran swiftly through the woods, attempting to escape the perils of my forlorn reality. She rejected me; now, everybody will laugh at me. I'll be living in Hell, a bottomless perdition of ignominy and mockery. How can I get myself out of the dark, cruel forest and up into the free, fresh airs of the mountain peak? The optimistic student persona had no say; and dark thoughts swirled and subjugated my other thoughts, leaving only my cruel spirit. My mind fluttered: Is there an individually interpreted reality in each of us? Or is there only a uniform reality outside of us, and if so, does that matter?
In the array of dark thoughts, I caught a glimmer-faint, but significant enough-of thought, a light of divine revelation; as I drew near, I discovered the source. It was emitting from a demonic statue ablaze, however frozen from a solid state of mind, indifferent to the seas of purging flames its body was set in. Of course, it would be fitting to discover a demon whilst in my somber meditation. The demon, Satan, had endured agonies of Hell, without complaint, even calling his tormenting prison [not Hell but] Heaven, because he set his mind elsewhere. I may be slipping into insanity; in my dark state, I decided to follow the footsteps of the Devil. My mind reasoned: Satan is correct; what we perceive is our reality. There is no objective reality; the character of an event or situation is subjective to our minds. Hell can be Heaven, Heaven can be Hell; all is determined by our minds. Satan determines his reality, with only diversions in his cognitive processes; and that shall be the solution to my misfortune.
I remember waking to the sweet, comforting fragrance of my mother's fresh blueberry pancakes. Had I spent the entire night dwelling upon thoughts in my sleep again? Well, it matters not now; it had been too long ago, and it has been a long while since I had endured such a dismal night. I had left my cheery, comfort zone and experienced a barrage of shadowy thoughts; however, I emerged in a much better, enlightened state of mind. That night was the night I came to conclusion; the dark experience led me to change-to abide to a new motto, one that fixates on detaching oneself from objective aspects of life and constructing a new reality subjective to one's respective thoughts. And following this motto has kept me undisturbed by hindrances and finally optimistic [enough] in chasing after the dreams of my student persona: to study and attack my passions, consume knowledge with a voracious rapture, and after submit myself to a life of long success and luxury.
There are times when I am unusually pessimistic, nights when I cannot bring myself to sleep, hours I spend in absolute solitude-only pondering. Questioning, I fill my head with thoughts and delve into the troubling waters of my mind; sometimes, I ask myself: Why do we live-why do I live? The motivated student persona reasons: to study and learn of the world, attain great marks, thrive intellectually and succeed, with opulence through a showy sense of fashion and perhaps a majestic mansion or luxury sedan; the afflicted spirit screams: Hell to this cruel, materialistic world; die! life is meaningless. These are the times when I leave my comfort zone. And, no, I am not bipolar.
"She likes me..." I slurped the last bubble of tapioca from the clear, plastic cup, "She likes me not." A sound of a low, coarse chuckle of pretense and disappointment escaped my twisted face. Once again, I could not escape my twisted fate.
Earlier, after an unsatisfied, extraordinarily dull day of school, I returned home. Down went my bags onto the floor, my body onto the bed, and my thoughts into a dark abyss. That day, I had failed again; and again, my hopes of succulent confidence were over-burnt, to a dry point beyond retrieval and possible correction. I had attempted to propose love to an attractive female acquaintance; but I failed, and perished to the bottom of the social ladder. Ill of the defeats of a normal teenage boy, my mind sailed out and lost itself in a dark sea of thoughts. Again, I had left my cheery, comfort zone.
Vulnerable and afraid, my thoughts now ran swiftly through the woods, attempting to escape the perils of my forlorn reality. She rejected me; now, everybody will laugh at me. I'll be living in Hell, a bottomless perdition of ignominy and mockery. How can I get myself out of the dark, cruel forest and up into the free, fresh airs of the mountain peak? The optimistic student persona had no say; and dark thoughts swirled and subjugated my other thoughts, leaving only my cruel spirit. My mind fluttered: Is there an individually interpreted reality in each of us? Or is there only a uniform reality outside of us, and if so, does that matter?
In the array of dark thoughts, I caught a glimmer-faint, but significant enough-of thought, a light of divine revelation; as I drew near, I discovered the source. It was emitting from a demonic statue ablaze, however frozen from a solid state of mind, indifferent to the seas of purging flames its body was set in. Of course, it would be fitting to discover a demon whilst in my somber meditation. The demon, Satan, had endured agonies of Hell, without complaint, even calling his tormenting prison [not Hell but] Heaven, because he set his mind elsewhere. I may be slipping into insanity; in my dark state, I decided to follow the footsteps of the Devil. My mind reasoned: Satan is correct; what we perceive is our reality. There is no objective reality; the character of an event or situation is subjective to our minds. Hell can be Heaven, Heaven can be Hell; all is determined by our minds. Satan determines his reality, with only diversions in his cognitive processes; and that shall be the solution to my misfortune.
I remember waking to the sweet, comforting fragrance of my mother's fresh blueberry pancakes. Had I spent the entire night dwelling upon thoughts in my sleep again? Well, it matters not now; it had been too long ago, and it has been a long while since I had endured such a dismal night. I had left my cheery, comfort zone and experienced a barrage of shadowy thoughts; however, I emerged in a much better, enlightened state of mind. That night was the night I came to conclusion; the dark experience led me to change-to abide to a new motto, one that fixates on detaching oneself from objective aspects of life and constructing a new reality subjective to one's respective thoughts. And following this motto has kept me undisturbed by hindrances and finally optimistic [enough] in chasing after the dreams of my student persona: to study and attack my passions, consume knowledge with a voracious rapture, and after submit myself to a life of long success and luxury.