So this is my very first draft (and attempt) for the Common app personal essay. I just wanted some feedback thanks!
Gradually atrophying my sense of self-respect, a sinister entity stubbornly existed deeply within my conscience, concealing it - what was left was an abominable child. Where was my conscience back then as I was enraptured in video games, so much that I had forgotten all about school? Surreptitiously hidden somewhere, a simple yet elusive stimuli was all that was needed to incite my conscience to eclipse this insurmountable entity; it came only under oblivious circumstance: failure. I subscribe gratification to you failure. It was you that opened my eyes. It was you that humiliated me, but on the same breadth, gave me a new beginning.
Enslaved upon a growing interest for video games over school, my conscience was inexorably kept passive - the "Okay give me ten more minutes" to dismiss whatever was going on in my surroundings ends up being one hour. The more I played, the more blind and suppressed my conscience became. Games were prioritized and school was picayune. My parochial views on the educational system of Middle School was what epitomized my inclination. I had always viewed school as a place of freedom, a place that manifested the belief that I could effortlessly channel through school work and maintain high marks conjointly as a stream would meander through a river unobstructed - I exploited my beliefs. I was wrong.
It was unconventional to find an enigmatic envelope that printed "To the parents of Buk Lau (Changed my name for privacy)" along with those superfluous advertisements in my mailbox during school. Curious, I furtively opened the letter skimming in search of something interestingly concrete; my eyes caught upon a series of unprecedented sentences: "...your son has been put into after school tutorials for..." my eyes darted about, looking for answers. What is going on? Then, I saw that big letter "F" (that odious letter of the alphabet) adjacent to two digits that created "68". This cannot be right. Panicking, I reread everything once again to find any error in my readings. It was all the same. I sat there staring at that piece of paper. A tri-folded white piece of paper covered in black ink indicating that I had failed U.S history. My body begins to tremble. In a matter of time, my parents got involved. Reluctantly handing them the letter, I turned away looking down at the wooden tiles lined side by side on the floor to escape the climax, waiting for their censuring. How do I explain myself? My mind goes hazy as an inferno embraced my head. Then it all came about; I wasn't hurt from the yelling, I was hurt from the humiliation and disappointment my parents expressed. I felt like an outcast. Struck with agony, bewilderment, and humiliation, I wanted to run away to hide and cry. The spark has finally ignited and my conscience has finally been provoked.
Whilst sullen by chagrin from failure, I was gladdened by this fortuitous incident that instead regained my consciousness - it was luminously clear what I had to do: change. But changing seemed so elusive. After all, I loved games (and still do). And so, I tried something unorthodox: I set out high with an ambitious initiative to curtail this gaming propensity rather than completely eradicating it to focus more on school. Set with this new desire (and to get out of those after school tutorials), I sedulously began to complete every aspect of school, not just U.S history itself, but from completing homework assignments, to doing well on exams, to passing that class I once failed. Gleamed with this sense of accomplishment, I momentarily stood at the apex. I now stand further, negotiating through anything that hinders my path to my future; my conscience has returned.
Failing homework assignments
Gradually atrophying my sense of self-respect, a sinister entity stubbornly existed deeply within my conscience, concealing it - what was left was an abominable child. Where was my conscience back then as I was enraptured in video games, so much that I had forgotten all about school? Surreptitiously hidden somewhere, a simple yet elusive stimuli was all that was needed to incite my conscience to eclipse this insurmountable entity; it came only under oblivious circumstance: failure. I subscribe gratification to you failure. It was you that opened my eyes. It was you that humiliated me, but on the same breadth, gave me a new beginning.
Enslaved upon a growing interest for video games over school, my conscience was inexorably kept passive - the "Okay give me ten more minutes" to dismiss whatever was going on in my surroundings ends up being one hour. The more I played, the more blind and suppressed my conscience became. Games were prioritized and school was picayune. My parochial views on the educational system of Middle School was what epitomized my inclination. I had always viewed school as a place of freedom, a place that manifested the belief that I could effortlessly channel through school work and maintain high marks conjointly as a stream would meander through a river unobstructed - I exploited my beliefs. I was wrong.
It was unconventional to find an enigmatic envelope that printed "To the parents of Buk Lau (Changed my name for privacy)" along with those superfluous advertisements in my mailbox during school. Curious, I furtively opened the letter skimming in search of something interestingly concrete; my eyes caught upon a series of unprecedented sentences: "...your son has been put into after school tutorials for..." my eyes darted about, looking for answers. What is going on? Then, I saw that big letter "F" (that odious letter of the alphabet) adjacent to two digits that created "68". This cannot be right. Panicking, I reread everything once again to find any error in my readings. It was all the same. I sat there staring at that piece of paper. A tri-folded white piece of paper covered in black ink indicating that I had failed U.S history. My body begins to tremble. In a matter of time, my parents got involved. Reluctantly handing them the letter, I turned away looking down at the wooden tiles lined side by side on the floor to escape the climax, waiting for their censuring. How do I explain myself? My mind goes hazy as an inferno embraced my head. Then it all came about; I wasn't hurt from the yelling, I was hurt from the humiliation and disappointment my parents expressed. I felt like an outcast. Struck with agony, bewilderment, and humiliation, I wanted to run away to hide and cry. The spark has finally ignited and my conscience has finally been provoked.
Whilst sullen by chagrin from failure, I was gladdened by this fortuitous incident that instead regained my consciousness - it was luminously clear what I had to do: change. But changing seemed so elusive. After all, I loved games (and still do). And so, I tried something unorthodox: I set out high with an ambitious initiative to curtail this gaming propensity rather than completely eradicating it to focus more on school. Set with this new desire (and to get out of those after school tutorials), I sedulously began to complete every aspect of school, not just U.S history itself, but from completing homework assignments, to doing well on exams, to passing that class I once failed. Gleamed with this sense of accomplishment, I momentarily stood at the apex. I now stand further, negotiating through anything that hinders my path to my future; my conscience has returned.
