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Essays on Creative Writing |
Personal Writing: My Friend's Death From AIDS
... it is a waste of time. It is the way that money is spent, and not
the amount that is important. The leading scientists in this area have
stated that they are in very early stages of a long-term project. If you
double the amount of money set aside for research, you will not find a cure
in half the time. The billions that are currently allocated to AIDS
research are sufficient if they are used properly. I would try to put
pressure on the legislators to have a bill passed that would define the
ways money should be spent, and to monitor the progress of finding a cure
for this deadly disease.
Second and more importantly is the matter of education. AIDS is not
jus ...
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Personal Writing: Getting My Driver's License
... wheel of the car, I knew that
the class was not going to be a problem. As I had expected it was not, the
driving tasks were fairly easy and simple, and the worksheets and tests
were a breeze! Now that I had all legal requirements met, I was very eager
to get my license and start driving on my own. It took the instructor
about three weeks to finally have the completion slips signed and ready for
us to take.
The day after they were ready, I got my completion slip and left to
get my driver's license and a new computer (I was actually more eager to
get the computer that day). We go to the mall and all I had to do was take
an eye exam!! I was very surprised, I figu ...
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Personal Writing: Museum Of Tolerance
... might see.
We walked into the building and bought our tickets, we got the
student discount. Our tour time would be at 1:15. To waste a little time
we decided to walk around a little and look at the displays. There were
many Jewish items that I had never seen before but Coley pointed out most
of them and explained what they were and what they were used for. It
didn't take very long for our tour guide to show up and lead us to the main
tour. There was a short, maybe 15 minute tour with a tour guide, then a
two and a half hour audio tour.
The tour guide led us to two doors and told us to choose one.
Above each door was a label one with the word "prejudice" and on ...
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Creative Writing: When I Was A Kid
... home in the northern end of town. Sometimes I would
hear my father boast to far off relatives that we lived in a nice residential
neighborhood (otherwise known as "the good area") In most horror stories, as
the hero approaches some haunted house (or some other terror) you can shout,
"Don't go in there! Stay away!" People moving into Norwalk have no such luck;
they move into the charming town without a clue of it's underlying sickness and
disagreeable citizens.
One of my first discoveries was the river that passed through the middle of town.
I was only a kid, maybe ten, when I started fishing by the edge of the river.
It wasn't easy finding the perfect locati ...
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Creative Writing: Year Long Period Of Solitary Confinement And What I Would Bring With Me
... of Antarctica, and with my family and
friends via the internet and teleconferencing. The computer would also serve as
a way for me to keep a journal of the events that occurred through out my year
long solitary confinement at the life deficient South Pole. My computer would
also provide a source of entertainment with games and programs I could use to
pass the time.
I would bring my alpine ski equipment along with my rock climbing gear
to the earth's frozen basement. The two passions of my life are snow skiing and
rock climbing. On the Antarctic continent lie many mountain ranges that have
the world's driest and most plentiful powder, and the most magnificent r ...
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Creative Writing: The Drive
... of reasons why I should have stayed,
carried on, but it only took a few significant reasons to abandon my so called
perfect life in Yuma, Arizona.
I remember driving, looking out of the window at the mountains and clay colored
rocks. I realized just how beautiful it all was. Again, my thoughts turned back
to my life. The man I thought I would end up sharing my so-called perfect life
with. I could see his face, remember his smile, hear him laugh. Jim and I were
great friends for a long while. Almost a whole year, until I began to actually
feel something stronger. I had never been in love before and it had been an
overwhelming feeling. At a party, I had too ...
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Creative Writing: Hephaestus And Aphrodite - The Dispute
... home, being absolutely
sure not to look in the direction of the scene Aphrodite and Hermes was putting
on for all the gods to see; however, it was not easy.
After several hours of waiting, Aphrodite finally came home—and
Hephaestus was there waiting for her. It was now dark, so she fumbled through
the room to find a light. One was turned on before she could come across one.
It startled her so! She whipped around toward the direction of the source of
the light, only to find Hephaestus sitting in his favorite easy chair, a glass
of red wine in one hand and a grape bushel in the other. He had the most
peculiar grin on his face.
"How was your day, dearest?" he ...
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Going Out On My Own
... from home and I could get help if it was needed.
Joe was leaving his job at Kelly’s, a local restaurant in downtown Norman, and thought I might be interested in replacing him. I came down and met with Rick Rubinski, the owner, who turned out to be an old hippie friend of my father’s from the early seventies, and was hired on the spot. I was hired as a cook and was soon running the kitchen for the day shift. Our menu mainly consisted of home cooked favorites such as boiled pot roast with new potatoes and honey glazed carrots, meat loaf with a spicy tomato sauce, and my personal favorite chicken fried steak. Our chicken fried steak was a half-pound monster that wa ...
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Creative Writing: The Substitute
... hid in the closet. For the first few
seconds all seemed normal and then a minute passed. The silence was broken
by her bolting out of her chair and locking all the doors and pulling all
the curtains. Seating herself back into her seat she began rummaging
through the duffel bag. She stopped and seemed to hesitate for a second
slowly scanning the room as if to check that she was alone. She went back
to her foraging and before long she had pulled from the bag a small black
box. Engraved with the letters P, O, and another letter that I could make
out were on the cover of the box. The final detail that I noticed about the
box was that there was a small socket on one si ...
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Personal Writing: My Grandmother
... front of them or
she would be very upset at us.
My grandmother always sat in the kitchen of her house. This is
where she would drink her hot black coffee with no sugar and smoke her
Virginia Slim cigarettes. She would sometimes sit in her kitchen for hours
upon end and watch the ducks and the geese swimming by on the river and if
it were warm enough outside she would crumble up some bread and feed it a
little at a time to them.
In the summer time my grandmother and whoever happened to be at the
house would sit out on the sundeck for hours and talk about anything and
everything imaginable; she was known as the neighborhood gossip queen. The
sundeck was a place f ...
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