"I found my name!" my friends would excitedly say at the gift shop. I calmly watched them, already knowing that my name was too uncommon to be on any of the pre-customized key chains hanging on the wall. Years later, I came to the conclusion that my name reflects who I am as a person. I am different from the others, and I am proud of it.
You see, I was never a normal person. I picked books over dolls and quidditch over soccer. I abhorred pink and my dance moves consisted of flailing arm movements. I have never had a burger and opted for fruit over candy. I could recite every line of the television series "Friends" and hula hoop while typing. All my life, I have tried to blend in with my peers. I tried to become one of those generic key chains sold down the shore, and I have failed miserably every time.
Those key chains, like futures, are made and determined by others. They are planned beforehand and follow an assembly line in a factory powered by domineering work hands. This mass production not only makes my friends' lives easier, but it also produces the same results for every one of them, regardless of their subtle differences.
I now realize that my keychain will not be hanging in a store, premade and ready to be purchased. I must make my own in order to stray from the assembly line of conformity. My supplies are laid out in front of me, unwrapped and ready to be used. I plan on making my own keychain a masterpiece of illustrated experiences, starting with college.
You see, I was never a normal person. I picked books over dolls and quidditch over soccer. I abhorred pink and my dance moves consisted of flailing arm movements. I have never had a burger and opted for fruit over candy. I could recite every line of the television series "Friends" and hula hoop while typing. All my life, I have tried to blend in with my peers. I tried to become one of those generic key chains sold down the shore, and I have failed miserably every time.
Those key chains, like futures, are made and determined by others. They are planned beforehand and follow an assembly line in a factory powered by domineering work hands. This mass production not only makes my friends' lives easier, but it also produces the same results for every one of them, regardless of their subtle differences.
I now realize that my keychain will not be hanging in a store, premade and ready to be purchased. I must make my own in order to stray from the assembly line of conformity. My supplies are laid out in front of me, unwrapped and ready to be used. I plan on making my own keychain a masterpiece of illustrated experiences, starting with college.