Columbia:
On a separate sheet of paper, write an essay which conveys to the reader a sense of who you are. Possible topics may include, but are not limited to, experiences which have shaped your life, the circumstances of your upbringing, your most meaningful intellectual achievement, the way you see the world-the people in it, events great and small, everyday life-or any personal theme which appeals to your imagination. Please remember that we are concerned not only with the substance of your prose but with your writing style as well. We prefer that you limit yourself to approximately 250-500 words (or 1-2 pages).
A Matter of A Boy and His Head
Dashes and lines, the infinite mess of people walking along as I stared blankly into this world they referred to as Earth. I thought why walk forward when you can walk backward? What's the purpose in thinking positively if you can think negatively? Is there any use to cut something when you can burn it? Where is innocence when there seems to be utter corruption at every step? A child's thoughts paced through my mind as I stared at these dashes called people and these lines called lives. Like forming letters on a paper with a man furiously typing with his type writer hearing the harmonious click of letters as a flow of letters exit his mind. Then the quick slash of words or rip of paper as this man's thoughts run short and heavy with mistakes. Just right now I type a letter attaching every inch of being into each key stroke. Allowing my thoughts to flow out easily and smooth and then cut short by the furious tapping of the backspace to delete useless thoughts. I always remembered a line from a book I read, "Stay tough, and stay strong because someday this pain will be useful to you." Most would brush it away as an annoying fly come to pester their life, but I clenched my fist and pressed it to my forward as I dug it into my brain. I never was a child of sheer confidence or adeptness at being the Jack of all trades or Most likely to succeed. Remember that quite shy boy in the back who rarely spoke who held that smile that looked as if he was off in his distant world. Yes, I was that boy always acting as the human communicating as little as possible and with great intellect. Still to this day I'm still that boy on the slippery slope his head held down and his mind held in a distant world. I am a man of many mistakes and a man of many accomplishments but the use of this is nothing. I once thought of happiness and an endless flow of unrealities, but now I think practically with an imagination set on defying every realm of possibility. A possibility is refuted by a single act of thought because through one thought I've already imagined new worlds.
On a separate sheet of paper, write an essay which conveys to the reader a sense of who you are. Possible topics may include, but are not limited to, experiences which have shaped your life, the circumstances of your upbringing, your most meaningful intellectual achievement, the way you see the world-the people in it, events great and small, everyday life-or any personal theme which appeals to your imagination. Please remember that we are concerned not only with the substance of your prose but with your writing style as well. We prefer that you limit yourself to approximately 250-500 words (or 1-2 pages).
A Matter of A Boy and His Head
Dashes and lines, the infinite mess of people walking along as I stared blankly into this world they referred to as Earth. I thought why walk forward when you can walk backward? What's the purpose in thinking positively if you can think negatively? Is there any use to cut something when you can burn it? Where is innocence when there seems to be utter corruption at every step? A child's thoughts paced through my mind as I stared at these dashes called people and these lines called lives. Like forming letters on a paper with a man furiously typing with his type writer hearing the harmonious click of letters as a flow of letters exit his mind. Then the quick slash of words or rip of paper as this man's thoughts run short and heavy with mistakes. Just right now I type a letter attaching every inch of being into each key stroke. Allowing my thoughts to flow out easily and smooth and then cut short by the furious tapping of the backspace to delete useless thoughts. I always remembered a line from a book I read, "Stay tough, and stay strong because someday this pain will be useful to you." Most would brush it away as an annoying fly come to pester their life, but I clenched my fist and pressed it to my forward as I dug it into my brain. I never was a child of sheer confidence or adeptness at being the Jack of all trades or Most likely to succeed. Remember that quite shy boy in the back who rarely spoke who held that smile that looked as if he was off in his distant world. Yes, I was that boy always acting as the human communicating as little as possible and with great intellect. Still to this day I'm still that boy on the slippery slope his head held down and his mind held in a distant world. I am a man of many mistakes and a man of many accomplishments but the use of this is nothing. I once thought of happiness and an endless flow of unrealities, but now I think practically with an imagination set on defying every realm of possibility. A possibility is refuted by a single act of thought because through one thought I've already imagined new worlds.
