Topic: We know nobody fits neatly into 500 words or less, but you can provide us with some suggestion of the type of person you are. Anything goes! Inspire us, impress us, or just make us laugh. Think of this optional opportunity as show and tell by proxy and with an attitude.
Max. is 500 words and I have 505. Help me delete these extra ones? Thanks!
"What are the three types of rocks?" asked my teacher, waiting for us to respond. "Igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary rock!" The voices in unison resonated in the classroom. Ah, childhood. The time where one creates completely new worlds from nothing, where one gets scraped and it does not hurt... where one finds complete happiness in discovering new things.
As a child I underwent a phase where I enjoyed gathering rocks, whether they were big, small, red, white, or any other hue. I'm unsure as to why I lost my affinity for it. Either way, my humble collection was rather, well, small. I would not keep all those that I found since they were for the most part the same. It was difficult to find a large variety of different rocks. However, I remember a serene spring evening after a light shower. I could smell the rich soil and vibrant flowers that had just been pervaded with water and invigorated with life. I walked down this small tile path next to my house that used to be replete with stones around it. There I was, gathering marble, scoria, quartzite pebbles, and a few others that I had learned about in school. Suddenly, I came across what was an anomaly, or at least it was to me; it was a small pallid pink rock. When had I seen a naturally pink rock? Never, especially not during my short ten years of life. It had traces of white streaks and a greasy appearance. It was not one that I had learned about or seen in science class, but what was it? I soon found myself rummaging through books, striving to find at least a picture that could guide me to what it was. In the end, it turned out to be something very common. It was pink feldspar.
I feel that this trait of child-like curiosity has survived in me. Even today, I wonder about common things. Breathing for example, is something we do at every instant, but the process behind it is so intricate and we are not cognizant of all our bodies undergo. It involves glycolysis, ATP, substrate level phosphorylation, the Kreb's Cycle, the Electron Transport Chain, and everything else that I have yet to learn.
Those little things that may seem ordinary are what attract me the most. There is a complexity inherent to them that I endeavor to comprehend. The small degree of intelligence that I have is worthless to me if I don't use it for the benefit of others, and I hope that my child-like curiosity helps me augment my knowledge so that I am enabled to do so. I want to use that childish driving force that I still have to learn about the world that encircles me. I am that child who desires to create new worlds. I am that child who does not fear getting scraped. I am that child who wants to figure out that in the end, the rock in my hand, is pink feldspar.
Max. is 500 words and I have 505. Help me delete these extra ones? Thanks!
"What are the three types of rocks?" asked my teacher, waiting for us to respond. "Igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary rock!" The voices in unison resonated in the classroom. Ah, childhood. The time where one creates completely new worlds from nothing, where one gets scraped and it does not hurt... where one finds complete happiness in discovering new things.
As a child I underwent a phase where I enjoyed gathering rocks, whether they were big, small, red, white, or any other hue. I'm unsure as to why I lost my affinity for it. Either way, my humble collection was rather, well, small. I would not keep all those that I found since they were for the most part the same. It was difficult to find a large variety of different rocks. However, I remember a serene spring evening after a light shower. I could smell the rich soil and vibrant flowers that had just been pervaded with water and invigorated with life. I walked down this small tile path next to my house that used to be replete with stones around it. There I was, gathering marble, scoria, quartzite pebbles, and a few others that I had learned about in school. Suddenly, I came across what was an anomaly, or at least it was to me; it was a small pallid pink rock. When had I seen a naturally pink rock? Never, especially not during my short ten years of life. It had traces of white streaks and a greasy appearance. It was not one that I had learned about or seen in science class, but what was it? I soon found myself rummaging through books, striving to find at least a picture that could guide me to what it was. In the end, it turned out to be something very common. It was pink feldspar.
I feel that this trait of child-like curiosity has survived in me. Even today, I wonder about common things. Breathing for example, is something we do at every instant, but the process behind it is so intricate and we are not cognizant of all our bodies undergo. It involves glycolysis, ATP, substrate level phosphorylation, the Kreb's Cycle, the Electron Transport Chain, and everything else that I have yet to learn.
Those little things that may seem ordinary are what attract me the most. There is a complexity inherent to them that I endeavor to comprehend. The small degree of intelligence that I have is worthless to me if I don't use it for the benefit of others, and I hope that my child-like curiosity helps me augment my knowledge so that I am enabled to do so. I want to use that childish driving force that I still have to learn about the world that encircles me. I am that child who desires to create new worlds. I am that child who does not fear getting scraped. I am that child who wants to figure out that in the end, the rock in my hand, is pink feldspar.