A Mexican immigrant stepped on American soil and dared to take on the world while yearning for the key to success: education. That great man is my grandfather, a hard-working immigrant who aims for success, and there was no better way to satisfy his pride and joy than to have a big family. Education was a goal for him to achieve, but he never reached it. However, this never bothered him much, and it still doesn't to this day; he was content with life so long as he had a job to pay the bills and feed the mouths on the table. Also, college was not a necessity as seen today. Once he had children, my grandfather wanted the best future for them. That meant he'd work relentlessly to pay for their education. My mother, aunt, and uncle went to school; they did okay in their studies. However, they never reached the education needed to go to the next level. Of course, they compensated for their lack of a college education with jobs. Eventually, my mother went to college but never completed her courses. My sister is similar; she has been through high school but never college or a university. That is where I come in. I am the one who made it, a first-generation student. The pride I feel is immeasurable and almost inexplicable. The joy I feel is immense as I'm the one in the family who made it work, the goal to pursue a higher education that's not typically found in my family. My passion for pursuing a degree has never been stronger since I want to prove to myself that I can pursue greater achievements through methods that my grandfather would've never had. Since I have the privilege and opportunity that nobody in my family has, I have to put my advantages to good use. I don't wish to fail my expectations for myself and my family since my life has been built to endure this moment and follow through with immense vigor and grit. To honor my grandfather's wishes when he arrived in the United States is more than enough to satisfy my long-term goals in life, especially when I hold that degree in my hands with a proud smile about what I've done. That passion will never fade, and I expect it to get stronger as each year passes and each moment of appraisal from my grandfather who yearned for the key to success.

I remember one catchy song with lyrics I relate to, singing, "Life is a highway; I wanna ride it all night long." However, I always thought life would be better if I drove down that highway drunk. Alcohol; what better way to celebrate? However, it was the worst punishment I knew. Growing up in a family that loves to party, alcohol has been around for most of my life. However, I never drank alcohol before middle school; I didn't face family drama just yet. When I entered middle school, I was a hot-headed adolescent whose mental and emotional health drained as I dealt with my family's issues. I had mediums to escape my pain: music, art, writing, and video games. However, they would turn out to be less effective as time flew. When I had nobody to go, nowhere to run, and nothing to distract myself, I looked at the cupboard filled to the brim with hard liquor. That was when my life changed forever. My curiosity turned into a craving, and my appetite became an addiction. Throughout middle school, I was an alcoholic. Whiskey was my poison of choice, and I'd drink a cup each morning, afternoon, evening, and night to forget the anguish I felt every day from a stressful life. If I didn't get a sip, I wouldn't know what to do with myself; alcohol was always on my mind, and not having a glass in my hand with beer, wine, or liquor made me irritable, anxious, and quake when I was at my worst. Since I depended on every drop, I tarnished my relationship with my friends. As an adolescent trying to understand the world, I did not see people positively, paranoid that nobody could appreciate who I was, even if I gave spectacular first impressions. Of course, alcohol didn't help. Each night, I drank myself beyond my limit to fortify my paranoia, leading me down a pessimistic and cynical path where I was practically a horrid kid. My alcoholism took away my kindness, love, and passion, even my aspirations for the future. My dream career is to be a mechanical engineer; it's been a passion that didn't die out. However, my alcoholism tempts me to neglect my dreams. When I worry more about getting a drink than passing an exam or proving my pessimism wrong about my self-worth, I tend to lose my passion for a goal I never dared to let go. As I lose my desire for mechanical engineering, I must force myself to push through, but doing things that I don't want to do isn't a healthy option, and it typically leads to depression, which I have felt but never been diagnosed; I feel depressed. However, the constant urge to drink is salt to my deep and bloody wounds. It never goes away, and I'm stuck with it for the rest of my life. However, I've improved on my addiction as life moved on. I matured, understanding that alcohol was not only a problem but a potentially lethal one, so I tried to fight my addiction. There have been ups and downs; I've relapsed more times than I can count on both hands. I've stayed strong in my struggle by finding different methods to occupy myself so I don't go overboard again, yet it's easier said than done. Days of sobriety turned to weeks, and then they turned to months. Even if I fell by breaking another promise to put the bottle down, I always got back on my feet to try again. I was not going to give up. Now, I'm a month and a half sober. I couldn't feel any better, even if I tried, because I was no longer a puppet dangling on measly strings from my poison. Having this problem early in my life is problematic, but it's not hopeless, and I'm not giving up. It's a challenge, but it's not impossible to rise above the hardship. Ultimately, that's how alcoholism has affected my life; it's an emotional rollercoaster of a story that spans for years. However, it's better to conquer my addiction while I have it than to wish for the past to be different. Now, that song returns to my mind, that catchy tune with lyrics I relate to. Yes, life is a highway, and I now know it's better to drive down that highway sober.

Many ask, "What do you want to be when you're older?" I can give them several answers, but it only narrows down to one choice out of the list. Why? All my life, I learned about different subjects in separate fields because they fulfilled my interests, and my interests are so expansive it gets surreal what I put my head into; nobody expects me to involve myself in engineering, graphic design, and creative writing simultaneously. It seems like people such as myself exist, and there's roughly no better place to search for the proper experience than university. College isn't too bad, especially when I need to work towards my main goal of becoming a mechanical engineer, fulfilling my major. I'm in awe of creating machines that move and perform tasks, and I'm interested in vehicles and robots that operate throughout the land, sea, air, and even the vacuum of space. To invent and innovate with my two hands bring me much joy, but I double majored in high school with one field of study that I see as worthwhile. The field of graphic design is another topic that is career worthy, even though it's not my main focus on going to college. I always saw drawing as fun and inventive, and graphic design lets me express my artistic capabilities completely. Also, I'm a freelance graphic designer who works with several clients and makes logos for companies, entrusting me to do their work since they believe I have splendid talent that's not always easy to find. However, another field of study interests me enough to inquire about potential jobs or careers. I love creative writing; I've been writing stories since I was a toddler. Jobs hire writers to produce imaginative and engaging stories or articles, which is right up my alley. Also, there's always room for published authors globally, and I aspire to be one someday in any genre I can write. I can apply creative writing for a company to reel in an audience or create a story to develop a following; it's the best of both worlds. Ultimately, these potential careers are intriguing, especially for someone whose goal of engineering ties with his two hobbies that focus on the creative arts. However, it's difficult to say which field of study gives me the most fulfillment or fulfills me alone, so it's simpler to state that combining all three provides me the most satisfaction in my interests. I want to be many things when I'm older, not just one job.

Am I healthy in body, mind, and soul? That's up for debate for others around me, like friends and family. What do I think? I'm trying, and I'm not stopping. Alongside millions of students, college, although liberating, is a challenging journey where we experience a rollercoaster of emotions. However, anxiety and stress sometimes rear their ugly heads and cause us to neglect our wants and needs for healthy living. Fortunately, students, including myself, found methods that help us calm our nerves and pull ourselves together for the future. Faith, or my religion, helps me the most. Being Roman Catholic is not easy; many religions and philosophies, Christian or not, oppose one another, so I must have reasons for my belief. However, to settle my foundation for reality in an objective absolute, who is the creator that loves me despite my flaws and is love and truth in His nature, gives me hope and peace for my otherwise restless mind of uncertainty. I can live life without being paranoid like I was in middle school. Long story short, I always look forward to Sunday mass which gives me the strength to move on to the following week. Now, music closely follows for a simple reason that comes as a common saying: music touches the soul. Regardless of its genre, good music soothes my mind, and the lyrics help in the trials of my life to word what I feel. Also, I use music to study, sleep, exercise, and for fun whenever I want because it's flexible; music does more than comfort me in my sorrow. However, another hobby works well with music as well. Writing literature has been my most consistent hobby since I was a toddler. Although they are no longer with me, I wrote my deepest and darkest thoughts in poetry, flash fiction, short stories, and novellas. Writing allows me to self-reflect on my deeds, words, ideas, and philosophy, expressing them through characters in my stories in several ways. By using my imagination, literature never failed to keep me busy and in awe of what I write. However, these methods work for me only; not everyone will have similar approaches to dealing with anxiety and stress, but we have the same goal. Students, including myself, want to succeed in college, meaning we must have a stress-free mind to work efficiently. Maintaining our health in college allows us to work at our fullest as students and earn degrees. Alongside the previous reason, caring for my well-being helps my life as a whole while being a student, such as loving my family and friends. A friend once said, "Being healthy is not crossing the finish line but is running the marathon without stopping." I still hold that wisdom close to my heart because, among other friends, they didn't know if I was "healthy" in their eyes. That is why I'll try to be healthy and never stop.

Someone like me aspires to numerous titles: mechanical engineer, author, painter, graphic designer, public speaker, and more. However, I am too determined on what I want to be rather than what I aim to achieve to impact this world. How do I accomplish this task, especially in my career in mechanical engineering when I'm employed? I could respond with a clear-cut answer revolving around inventing and innovating machines to help the world, which improves human well-being, global warming, economic instability, and the list goes on. Also, I can say that I wish to do no more than provide my community with machinery used in everyday life, such as tools and automobiles; providing people with what they need is enough. However, the two answers, albeit generous and inspiring, are not what I want to do in my field because if I accomplish either of the two or both, I'd be stuck on what else to do. I would make the mistake of being too focused on the goal instead of how I got there, and that is where my honest answer comes to mind. I plan to positively impact the world through my career by proving that perseverance with love triumphs over all hardships. One hardship, in particular, is dealing with the unfortunate passing of a loved one. It is a solemn moment in one's life filled with sorrow and is no simple obstacle to traverse, especially if the person in question died at a young age and in horrible circumstances. I share this experience with my cousin, who sadly lost his battle with drug addiction and faced a painful death of sepsis, which is accredited to him missing a vein with a needle. He died at twenty-nine years old, and our family mourned. However, no matter what my family faced after his death, whether they faced temptation from their addictions or tried blaming family members for abandoning my cousin, we persevered and carried on, no matter how long or painful our road to recovery was. There was something beautiful in that grit that pushed through hardship, where love with perseverance conquers distressing battles, regardless of the circumstances. We didn't solely care about how we got here and where we'd end up, but we focused on getting through the dark times together. After bearing witness to my cousin's coffin, I knew life stops for nobody, even if they have everything they want; I am no exception. Regardless if I am an engineer, what worth is my work, and what worth am I as a man if I tremble and hide at more hardship? If I persevere through the problem without love, have I honestly overcome the challenge? I intend to send another message that I see will leave a permanent mark on the world that will benefit us in the end. I plan to show through my career in engineering that all hardships, either at one's work or personal life, can be overtaken through pure grit with love. I might accomplish many things, big and small, but I care for how I did them, even if the tides turned against me for a change. Perhaps someone can see what I do and know my story, gaining inspiration to keep pushing through life, even when it seems too rough to hold on. By then, there's my answer to the question. I plan to show the world my grit with love to persevere through all hardships, to show them what truly impacts the world for the better.

There once was a poor family where the mother and father sacrificed everything so their children could have the life they never could get. That family is mine. Generational wealth is straightforward when put into practice. Parents pass down their wealth to their children for varying reasons, but it only has to deal with money. After all, that's the proper definition. However, what is worth all that money, and I do not mean its value as currency? Sure, a hundred dollars is noble when passed from parent to child, but how is that different and unique from hard-earned money rewarded to the same child working at their job? For all my life, I've seen a crucial difference between being "wealthy" and "rich", even though the terms are synonymous. To be rich is to gain more wealth than the average person walking down the street, and there is cash to burn. Greed is an issue in this circumstance. You earn or inherit all this cash, much more than you know what to do with, and frivolous spending seems natural when you never need to worry about running dry on your last dime. However, this is where it's almost too easy to get carried away. The populace despises the rich because it appears that whoever's fortunate to be rolling in the dough doesn't spend so much as a penny to better the world around them. After all, why spend money on charity when you can spend just as much on a filling and exotic dinner? Those same people who are "rich" only have money to show for accomplishment and nothing more, regardless if it's earned or not. However, to be wealthy is far from the deviance of debauchery. You earn or inherit all this cash, much more than you know what to do with, but you carefully consider the consequences of your actions with the wealth you possess. Although you don't worry about running low, you care about spending your money to benefit others rather than to pleasure yourself, so it's best not to get carried away. When the populace looks at that example, it provides a clear picture of responsibility, humility, and love from a fortunate soul who wants the best for others. The "wealthy" have more than money to offer the world, and their wealth is only part of the big picture and a tool to supply the needs of the commoners and the less fortunate. Ultimately, this is where I see a difference and the true meaning of wealth, especially generational wealth. The person who owns the wealth makes the idea unique; otherwise, why hold the action in high regard when an employer could do the same? If the person passes down their wealth with love, humility, and responsibility, the child receives something more valuable than currency, something more valuable than a grand. They receive compassion, that loving desire to give to charity, and to take nothing, especially their wealth, for granted. I do not care to make a mountain of wealth only to pass it down to an heir. I will make it my duty to establish the loving nature of my successor with my wealth so that they do good with the people, or my money is only pieces of paper for the selfishness of one who is rich. I will make sacrifices so my child will have a future I might never get where money is only part of the picture of love.

I wish people could see my world of imagination, my creation that defies explanation. Inside my head are mountains of stories waiting to be published, but I need to write them first. However, what is worth mystical tales without lore, a world behind the madness of fantasy written onto paper? I'd take a day or two to write more than ten pages, and I move on to creating a language of my own where creatures of ages past speak to summon spells and sing poetry. I will give my civilization a long and forgotten history, redeemed through love, sacrifice, and hope. If you couldn't tell, I love to write. Ever since I was a toddler, nothing fascinated me more than what I could do with paper and a pen. Regardless of the genre, writing wonderful and inspirational literature always influences how I perceive the world and how I wish to tell basic morals. It's no simple task, especially if I want my work published, but the labor pays off when I read the stories and stand in awe at my imagination turned into words. At any moment, I realize the power behind words. Upon reading, I remind myself how any tale is a building block for the future, inspiring minds to take action or pick up the pen and write their stories. Behind literature is immense power, and that comes with greater responsibility. I give back to my community through varying methods, such as donating, community service, and fundraising. They are good ways to help another hand in need, but literature, in my humble opinion, can do just that and more, especially for the generations after us and millions unborn to come. The youth are impressionable and lively, so it's no wonder why we do our best to inspire them to change the world for the better. However, that aspiration dies, and it hits rock bottom when the children grow into their teenage years. Creeping its ugly head, the death of imagination places itself in our minds, turning us robotic and without much determination to be creative. Writing literature that gives love, sacrifice, and hope is what I think is most needed for our youth, and that is what I wish to pay back to my community. I cannot do this alone, but if it needs to be, I will try my best to bring it to life or spread awareness about the power of literature. After all, I can keep giving back to my community in other ways, so I intend to open another door to give back to my community tenfold. I wish to reignite several beautiful, unique minds of this generation to write their stories and practice creativity like never before. Will it be difficult? Yes, I cannot bear acknowledging a dark, depressed world where our youth lack the creativity and imagination to write amazing stories or give back to this world in any method they can, learning valuable lessons from the literature they read. However, I have hope that the struggle will be worthwhile. Until then, I cannot wait to see another's world of pure imagination, their creation that defies explanation.

There's a song stuck in my head, repeating, "Life is a highway; I wanna ride it all night long." However, I thought it was better to drive on that highway drunk. Undoubtedly, alcoholism is a route of life nobody wishes to journey through, but I was too reckless to realize I was ruining my life each time I took a sip from a bottle of whiskey. After all, I depended on taking a quick sip of anything; I couldn't live through the day without drinking, relying on alcohol to properly function. While at the lowest in my life as an alcoholic, I poisoned my mind with pessimistic, hostile thoughts, which deteriorated my perspective on my family, friends, and future. However, I try redeeming myself through love, humility, and hope, battling my addiction until my death. Living with alcoholics, I thought my fate destined me to become the person who started fights, drifted families apart, and faced the world without caring for anyone's well-being. That's what I saw, anyways. However, it wasn't only the lightheadedness and bliss that enticed me, but the bitter flavor of alcohol kept bringing me back to continue drinking. Also, my house always was filled to the brim with beer, wine, and hard liquor, so it's fair to say that I'd never run dry of my poison. And the worst part is that I was a hot-blooded youth in middle school seeking the meaning of life while dealing with family, friends, and identity issues. I was a mess, aiming to make it worse with a bottle of good ol' Jack Daniels under my bed to drink myself to sleep. I thought all men and women were of equal quality in kindness, trust, and humility, and I believed we humans were more than our bodies. I saw nothing more precious in our limited lives than the company of deep, sworn friends and a loving, cherishing family. Nothing seemed better than passing every class, earning each dollar, and bleeding my last drop of blood to deserve my career as a mechanical engineer. However, upon emptying the bottle in three hours, my whiskey told me otherwise. Facing middle school with my alcoholism left me to see the ugly truth that left me hysterical for many nights. People endured me. Strangers disgusted me like roaches scattering across the ground. Selfish, proud, and hypocritical women spoiled the image of who is competent and loving, but my drunkenness had me believe that all women will leave their partners and that we men are expendable. Men were no different, but my pessimistic, nihilistic mind and whiskey-fueled veins didn't think highly of them anyways. Also, my family faced a schism while my friends barely supported me, so it's to no one's surprise that my demeanor was akin to someone who got backstabbed by the ones close to him. I never saw myself any better either, just as expendable as everyone else. Consequentially, without proper morals, ethics, and philosophy on human nature, I hardened my heart and dulled my intellect, ditching my hopes for a flourishing future to getting wasted behind the nearest bar I could enter. My drunken life was killing me, and I couldn't drink enough to fake a smile anymore. However, I decided to take back the reigns of my life. I slowly stopped drinking before bumping up the intensity of my abstinence and staying away from alcohol entirely. It was difficult, of course, and living in a house filled with most kinds of alcohol is like fasting at an all-you-can-eat buffet. It would take one sip to slip back into my bad habits, and that's happened more times than I could count, but I never waivered in healing myself. After months of intense abstinence, my drinking habits are practically gone, and I'd prefer to keep it that way until I reach legal age. Even when I enter that age to drink without legal consequences, I still need to remain wary about what I do with a bottle of alcohol. I must remember until I die that battling addiction is not a sprint but a marathon. Now, am I better off? Yes. However, will I fall? Yes, and I am not afraid to say it. The scars of my past decisions remain from regretful choices, but I will never change what happened if it meant I would never struggle and strive for sounder outcomes for myself. I know I was wrong and will try never to fall back into such depravity because I now have love, humility, and hope. I now have a reason to take that wheel and drive through each bump and crack of the highway called life without much fear or worry. After all, life is a highway, and I want to ride it all night long, and I think it's better to drive on that highway sober.

Whenever I walk outside walking around the block, I enjoy my fun out one nostril at a time. What do I mean by this? Well, I have seasonal allergies that will block the airways of one nostril, rendering it near impossible to breathe through my nose. It can become a hassle periodically, especially during spring and summer when I sometimes struggle to sleep through my nose as I can't breathe enough air. Comically enough, when one nostril clears up, the other closes; I've rarely had both nostrils open simultaneously. Since only one nostril's open, I struggle to breathe enough air while exercising, and the open nostril sometimes burns because it dries up too quickly. Then I have gingivitis, a real pain in the neck sometimes. For at least a year, I didn't show much concern for my dental hygiene during elementary, and this carelessness cost me dearly for my gums. My gums are sensitive and tender, and even now, whenever I try to take good care of my teeth by brushing twice a day and flossing, my gums bleed. There have even been instances where my gums have bled while I was eating, hurting every time I chew as I only taste metal, like a coin inside my mouth, due to my blood and bacterial infection. It's not as bad now, but I still have to endure the consequences of neglecting my dental health. That's about it for now. Thankfully, none of my medical conditions have gotten life-threatening, but there have been moments where I underestimated their effects on my body, and they came back to haunt me. One day, my allergies had a spike in severity, but I decided to ignore them as I thought they would go away overnight. Instead of being a minor inconvenience, my allergies made my body sick enough to suffer from mild pneumonia, and my stubbornness to keep going to school had me sick with the illness for roughly three months. My gingivitis has also gotten so bad that I couldn't even drink water, cool or warm, without feeling a sting from my teeth and gums. Although, it didn't hurt as much as annoy me. Anything can happen in a year, month, or even a week, so I have to count my blessings where I may find them because I understand that many people have it worse than me. Some individuals have a worse illness, and many have to get treated with medication, yet I can still somewhat live a practically comfortable life. In self-reflecting on how many have it far worse than me, the idea has daunted me not to take these illnesses for granted. I should be thankful that I'm capable of doing whatever I freely desire rather than be paralyzed or in a worse state. They haven't affected my goals in any way other than to be grateful for what I have rather than what I don't and that I should also help others in need, especially if they have any medical conditions. However, with or without my illnesses, I am more than what my body allows me to perform; it's through the unlimited power of the human mind.

It's difficult sometimes whenever my mind is clouded with negative thoughts, specifically when they revolve around my alcoholism. Life will throw many fastballs in my direction to ruin my day, but I have adapted to battle these thoughts, at least for a moment. However, it's not always easy, and they're temporary solutions, but it's better than nothing at the end of the day, and I can take any chance of improvement I can get. The first, easiest, and largest method I use is self-reflection. I've always had time to self-reflect on my thoughts and actions, so I challenge my beliefs and actions through reason rather than merely accepting whatever I unexpectedly think or do. With the wisdom, knowledge, and experience at my disposal, I try to improve myself by understanding what was wrong and right in the situation and how I could've done better. Sefl-reflecting has helped me improve my moral compass and has helped with my alcoholism tremendously. It has even helped me relieve stress by realizing that my deepest worries are silly or improbable. When self-reflecting isn't enough or lacks some excitement, listening to music is usually my second method to clear my mind. This method is universal, and I'm no different. Music moves people in spectacular ways where its use is applied, for instance, for depression and anxiety, apart from mere entertainment. I listen to music to do just that, relax. It doesn't matter much what I listen to, but all that matters is that I can be careless in my mind with music. However, listening to music leaves me tempted to walk endlessly. Instead of paying no attention to that tendency to walk, I took advantage of it. Finally, when self-reflecting and listening to music are not enough or blend, taking a walk is the perfect way to end my day. Even without music and self-reflection, strolling around my neighborhood can give me enough time to appreciate the silence and peace throughout my walk, even though I've done it plenty of times. Letting the air brush against my skin as I walk and enjoy the scenery surrounding me is what I need to loosen up. Even if I walk for only a mile, I end my journey in a near state of euphoria. Ultimately, these methods' goal is to weaken the effects of a clouded mind. I can't ever fully be at peace with myself, and that's okay; no one is perfect. All I need is to improvise, adapt, and overcome my obstacles with my methodology at my disposal. However, a helping hand can assist in another's journey, helping them go a long way in life. If anyone offers their help, I won't and shouldn't refuse their assistance whenever I need someone to alleviate some weight off my shoulder. I, along with others, shouldn't be afraid to ask someone for help or decline their offer when they acknowledge your pain. I wish to maintain this positive, healthy mindset for most of my life. Even though I will face bumps on the road, I will try my best to stay in this world in one piece, capable of living and loving to the best of my ability.

I help my grandparents from both sides of the family. My grandfather on my mother's side tends to do yardwork relentlessly, so I try to lend a helping hand to keep him from working himself to death. I also give him company wherever he goes. Although it may not seem much, my company couldn't be more heart-warming in his eyes since there's a language barrier between us, preventing us from holding conversations with each other; he primarily speaks Spanish while I'm English. I help my grandparents on my father's side by calling them at least once a week. They suffer from anxiety, but they seem to alleviate some stress whenever I interact with them. We don't see each other in person much anymore, so this is the least I can do to brighten their day. Even if I'm on a tight schedule, I try to call them to ensure they're smiling by the end of the day. In general, however, I attempt to help the elderly in ways that I can, such as holding the door, helping them cross the street, gathering fallen items, organizing their medication, and so much more. I'm not assigned a particular job to help the elderly, so all I've done for them, no matter how small, was out of pure respect and kindness since it's miraculous that they're still with us today. By them only living a life far different from our generation and the next to come, the least I can do is help them in any way I can.

Out of many books, I'm not usually so keen on fantasy, definitely while I was growing up. I was into nonfiction books about space, history, and science, but I never had a favorite among those kinds. However, I had found the diamond in the rough during third grade, and it was a children's book known as The Whipping Boy. The story is about a badly misbehaved prince escaping with his whipping boy. Both boys get chased by two criminals, so they must be sly to escape persecution and be free. Even today, it's a problem explaining how I felt upon reading this book for the first time, but something surely caught my attention if it kept me reading. I guess it's because of the adventure in the story. It was a tale that seemed interesting from beginning to end, and even to this day, I enjoy reading the book because of its story. The characters weren't problematic either; I didn't hate them, but I tended to relate with them, specifically the prince. Also, the story isn't long, so I can sit down and read it all in one day in peace. However, just because it's my favorite book, I still enjoy plenty of fantasy books periodically, but that doesn't make The Whipping Boy any less significant or fun to read. I've come to think that I believe that without that book capturing my interest, I wouldn't be reading fantasy books today. By that alone, the story gets placed in a special place in my heart.

I always hear my colleagues complain that they wish the school curriculum taught how to pay taxes, assemble essays, invest in stocks, prepare for college, and become an entrepreneur. Overall, students feel like the current educational system lacks essential lessons for life and instead focuses on subjects that hold little to no significance in our daily lives. However, I cannot say the same. I was fortunate to enlist in my high school, which provides classes revolving around those subjects, one of which is mandatory. Honestly, without those classes, I would be stuck in a tough spot and ignorant of business, entrepreneurship, and college. It's best to implement mandatory courses that tackle these subjects to prevent an ill-informed future for students throughout all high schools instead of particular ones. One in four Americans don't know how to file taxes, and the acknowledgment of this problem has become more apparent as students voice their opinions. Thousands of students claim that the school curriculum lacks lessons and courses revolving around assembling an economically stable life, so teaching the next generation the basics of 1040, W-2, and W-4 forms are necessary since the reliance on tax-paying programs like TurboTax has increased. I learned how to file taxes for my sophomore and senior year, and just by those two years, I can complete 1040 forms with ease. It would save plenty of time for several individuals to add and subtract all they owe for an hour so that the government keeps its people in check, but instead, some teenagers and adults can't do basic math to write their taxes. Permitting a mandatory class for students to learn their taxes, at the very least, would be a massive improvement in preparing young men and women for the world of economics. However, it's just as crucial for high school students to learn more about college and what universities will expect from them. Students will hear about scholarships, FAFSA, and grants, but they can't accurately describe what they are, what they do, and where to find them. College Preparation classes are offerable, but they're an elective and rarely promoted. I enlisted for one of those classes for my sophomore year, expecting nothing more or less than a waste of my time, and I was proven wrong by the first week. During my semester of taking this course, I learned about FAFSA, scholarships, grants, student loans, resumes, and college tuition and fees; I learned the most significant subjects about college and more. Supplying students with these particular classes would benefit them greatly as they've done so for me. At the very least, the next generation can acknowledge how the educational system tried to give the students every chance to succeed and live in this new age of academia. I don't want our future students leaving high school feeling like they wasted their four years; they must have to take something from this.

World War Two is a touchy subject, so I offered my time and knowledge to learn about these brave men and women who sacrificed themselves to save the world. Usually, people speak of multiple valiant heroes, such as Desmond Doss and Simo Häyhä, but someone who I deeply respect is Jozef Gabčík. Jozef was a Slovak soldier for the Czechoslovakian army and resistance who, alongside other soldiers and resistance members, was the man responsible for the attempted assassination of Adolf Hitler's third in command, Reinhard Heydrich. However, the assassination failed. As a result, Prague perished during a witchhunt for the men responsible. Before Jozef got quartered inside an Orthodox church with his men, the Nazis executed dozens of civilians. Jozef ultimately committed suicide alongside his brethren before Nazi soldiers could seize and torture them. Eventually, Heydrich died due to an infection from the wounds of the assassination attempt. At first glance, this doesn't seem to be impressive but a downright disaster. The assassination failed, the Czechoslovakian people suffered worse hardship than before, and the Nazi regime continued for another two to three years; understandably, it's hard to find the success or significance in Jozef's actions until you realize that he made a great sacrifice. He sent a powerful message to Prague's oppressors that they would fight for freedom, even if it costs them their very lives; "give me liberty, or give me death!" as Patrick Henry said for the American colonies. It is a battle cry echoed throughout history, especially during World War Two through the French, Czechoslovakian, and Polish resistances who fought for freedom from oppression. Jozef Gabčík knew it was a suicide mission, but he went away and fought for what he believed was right. He was a hero to his people, and that alone is admirable.

I've heard that money can't buy happiness, but it sounded too ridiculous to believe because no one ever explained why that's the case. I remember one fateful night; I sat with someone named Keith, the kid I would only see once in my life. We spoke about politics, religion, and history, but we soon dove deep into economics and the importance of credit scoring, investing, and economic systems. Eventually, all of our banter rested on one sentence. Keith spoke confidently, "It's better to live your life wealthy than rich if you want to be happy with money." After that night, I left myself reflecting on that sentence since it sounded too bizarre to comprehend. Thankfully, it didn't take long to understand what Keith meant. To live "wealthy" is to help the poor, love others unconditionally, and see worth in human lives that are more valuable than money. To live "rich" is to bury your happiness and fool yourself through debauchery, luxurious-like spending, and finding more value in money spent for selfish pleasure than to help others. Just by those descriptions, it's clear-cut who will end up happy and prosperous. Ultimately, what Keith told me was to be responsible with your money if you succeed; competence is the key. If I conserve my earnings with a sound mind and the capacity to love, I can live wealthy; if I recklessly spend every penny I've earned only for my morally subpar self-gratification, I only live rich. Sadly, many people have thought that once you make it big, the only way to enjoy life is to live rich; that's the furthest from the truth. If I ever make it big, I'll keep what Keith taught me close to my heart because I want to live wealthy.

Gasoline's convenient but pollutes, and electricity's green but can be expensive and time-consuming to maintain; what's next to solve our fuel crisis? Although this world faces several situations on different subjects, global warming seems to be one of the most massive and crucial topics to discuss. As expected, one goes down the list of what emits greenhouse gases and will find themselves pointing the finger at petroleum-fueled vehicles. Transportation is responsible for roughly 15% of greenhouse gas emissions globally and 27% in the U.S. alone. Also, it's crucial to acknowledge that more than a trillion pounds of greenhouse gases released into the atmosphere can only increase as urbanization flourishes. As a solution, electric cars eventually were introduced, but many continued to use petroleum-fueled vehicles as gasoline was more convenient and, therefore, the gasoline market was unaffected. However, another product brought itself into the market and might be the answer we've requested. Algae went through testing as biofuel, and the results were outstanding. Algae biofuel is almost five times more effective than sugar cane or corn, and the Environmental Protection Agency estimates that replacing diesel with algae can theoretically reduce greenhouse gases by 60%. Also, if algae biofuel were to oust petroleum-based products such as diesel, new jobs related to farming algae could become available along with farms and plantations; it can become a new, untouched market. If governments around the globe see the potential value of algae biofuel, the next generation can apply their strength and knowledge in fighting the battle against global warming. Educating the youth about the subject is essential, but it's more crucial to encouraging their efforts in changing this world in their methods. Ultimately, the answer doesn't only lie in what we possess but in what we can do to mend the future.

As an alcoholic who's sober for quite a while now, I understand the difficulty of dealing with mental health and the struggle to live an average life. Although I've dealt with my mental health issues alone, masses of people can't fight their demons alone and require immediate assistance, especially teenagers. To combat the rise of mental illness, I've helped guide others and advise them with my friends who aim for similar goals. I'd first ensure that whoever suffers from mental illness can access professional assistance or, at the very least, can enter a public forum to explain their issues to others. Admitting that you have a problem is a start, but it won't fix you; you can confess that you need help and still refuse to find and receive it. For progress, simple conversations can be just enough for a breakthrough in mental recovery or stability. Sometimes people only need another to lean on and discuss their concerns. However, it's upsetting to acknowledge how many schools don't implement these types of measures regarding mental health. The rise of mental illness has been higher than ever and continues to grow yearly, so it's time to direct our efforts to the source and help the next generation with whatever they will face. I don't wish children and teenagers to deal with mental illness alone like me, so advocating for schools to host mental health assemblies and bring awareness to the subject will help someone in their struggle. It may even save a life. By taking baby steps to promote mental health awareness, whoever struggles with it can seek professional help, therapy, or someone to assist them in their journey regardless of age or cost.

Creativity is food for the soul; that's what I always say. Many agree that one's creativity is an essential aspect of a person, and I attempt to challenge my creativity throughout my hobbies. I draw skylines, landscapes, characters, and ambiguous doodles of several sizes, shapes, and colors. Also, I challenged my ability to draw in several styles such as black and white, watercolor, vintage, neon, and much more. With my experience and knowledge, I'm currently learning how to animate, hoping to create beautiful, smooth animations. Then I follow through with my hobby regarding literature. I freely write what I have in mind, developing stories of several genres that I attempt to familiarize myself with so that I'm more experienced. With this in mind, I usually write relatively simple stories, such as realistic fiction, and bizarre tales, such as science fiction. Now, my poetry is where I "let loose" regarding my creativity. I would write my stanzas per usual, but then I draw around the poem in a pattern of doodling that follows down the poem; I've done that since the beginning of middle school. Their purpose, however, I'm not entirely sure; I added them to imitate music, have a deeper meaning, appear intricate like art, or be a combination of all three. I've been an outside-of-the-box thinker for most of my life, and for several of my ideas, I credit my creativity and reach for knowledge and wisdom. However, anyone can be creative in their unique way, and all it takes is encouragement and commitment to follow through. After all, creativity is food for the soul, and anyone can change the world with what they wish to bring and offer.

I deserve this scholarship because I'm lazy, unreliable, and in no crucial need of financial aid. Receiving this scholarship would mean nothing, especially since I took away money that people need more than me. My academic and career goals are to be an anesthesiologist because I know little to nothing about the position and how to do it. People can die, but what's worth living without some risk? However, if that fails me, I would love to reach the unparalleled academic goal of becoming a fry cook at Mcdonald's. I've overcome an obstacle by drinking the memories away just so I forget the responsibility and urgency, free from stress and able to perform anything I desire. Triumphantly, I'd drink some more until I immediately forgot what I was celebrating! That way, I leave behind my obstacles in no time.

Words can lose their meaning once we walk away. Every vow, smile, and generous act can become a trustworthy mask to fool the vulnerable and innocent; no one is always honest. Expect to lie and be lied to if you wish to remain relevant. When the truth unveils itself, the pain can become unimaginable. However, that was just an average day of my life during middle school; that's what I believed. Like anyone else, I'm human; I make mistakes, plenty that are misdemeanors and others that I cannot explain how much I regret committing. However, a bottle of Jack Daniels made it easier to swallow. My alcohol addiction altered my behavior and consciousness; I increasingly turned pessimistic, cynical, and nihilistic. I experienced abrupt, hysterical, and manic emotional highs that left me insomniac and losing grip of reality and morality; many compared me to a severe cocaine addict. I then experienced sudden, depressing, and discouraging lows that left me suicidal and stoic; some may even say sociopathic in certain instances. In my highs and lows, I even heard sounds and voices in my head; I dealt with them without medication, only through self-reflection, hobbies, and poetry. Since I faced my demons alone, every kind gesture and an act of love I gave and received, even though I tried convincing myself that they were genuine, were nothing more than soulless husks. Regardless if they were lies or held little to no meaning, they didn't mean anything to me in the end. They come and go. People loved me while others hated me, even titling me a monster for what I may have said and done whenever I didn't act on love but treachery. I saw the world as nothing. Our world was utterly meaningless as our existence in the universe was merely an accident. Due to this, I was increasingly manipulative as I saw others, no matter what race, gender, or religion, as naive when they fell for my kindness. However, the worst decision of my life was my goal. Although I said my goal was to be a mechanical engineer, I simultaneously spoke truthfully and lied. I wished to be an engineer, but another objective popped into my mind that sadly had me favoring it periodically; my goal was to kill myself once I turned eighteen. Thankfully, however, this mindset took the reigns over my life for only one year. However, through deeper self-reflection, I noticed that my mindset changed drastically over the years. The question lingered in my mind: what have I become? It was an epoch of my life; I regret taking a year to acknowledge my heart-breaking condition, but it's better late than never. However, I needed to do more than admit I had a problem because I understood how I was a broken human being, but that didn't necessarily lead me to heal the wounds I've intentionally made worse. To mend my scars, I needed to take action; I needed to act on my words to preserve their meaning rather than merely walk away and have them lose their message. Accrediting my self-reflection, persistence, and curiosity for knowledge and wisdom, my journey to recovery and sobriety began. I first devoted myself to putting the bottle down, abstinent from alcohol since I could return to becoming dependent on the substance just by its bitter taste. Personally, that was the breakthrough I needed to improve myself since it allowed me to clear my mind rather than obsess over drinking. I began to think more optimistically, becoming more grateful for the tiniest things in life. I then began to take my time and effort to understand the concepts of love so that I know what to do and acknowledge that I'm doing it. I persisted with a positive attitude as I dove deeper into hobbies, keeping me busy as I attempted to grasp a better understanding of this world, challenging my post, dark beliefs. If anything, the time I had at my disposal allowed me to finally critically self-reflect on my life, planning for what's next in my life while improving from my past mistakes and faults. Now, I couldn't be more satisfied with my life. I have been sober for several years now, and my mind is now full of so much joy and gratitude because I currently lack the poison I allowed to kill me slowly. My relationships with my family and friends have become even more understanding; I even patched old wounds with old rivals now turned friends. The world and its inhabitants' existence, meaning, and purpose are no longer empty in my eyes; we, along with the entirety of the universe, have the goal to live and love with all of our hearts. With that in mind, my faith in humanity is improving. However, the most crucial change has to be my goal, which previously was to end my life. Now, my goal is to live and love for the sake of others. Through living and loving, I wish to spark ambition and grit in the hearts of many, and I want them to persevere through their grievous times in the hope of a better future. There are moments when I feel like treading back to my old mindset of melancholy and depression, and I still experience emotional highs and lows periodically. The urge to drink again sometimes returns for a moment, and to "let loose" of all my anger and resentment through treacherous means still somewhat clouds my mind. However, I don't expect to become fixed from my imperfections; I want to become saved from my sins. Through love, the most crucial obligation humans possess, we improve ourselves. Our words lose meaning once we walk away, but they don't have to. With love, wisdom, and our obligation to act with the intent of justice, our words will keep their meaning long after we return to dust.

Pride was everything; without pride, you're worthless. That was the common mindset among students in my middle school. You had to be one of the strongest, roughest, prettiest, brightest, or funniest to be worthwhile for another to invest their time in you. This unanimous mindset of competing for recognition and rewards, regardless if people got harmed along the way, led to prideful, resentful, and downright angry individuals. Practically, it was survival of the fittest. Periodically, I'd hear complaints about this damaging psyche, but most students were comfortable and compliant with this competitive lifestyle that emotionally and mentally discouraged anyone who didn't fit any category. It wasn't until about three years ago that I saw an inspiring quote during my theological lectures. A reading from The Book of Proverbs read, "One who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, And one who rules in spirit, than one who captures a city." I still didn't care for God when I read this, but it always stuck with me. Now I know why; the glory, praise, and power someone gains are meager feats compared to wisdom, patience, and humbleness. This message would not only be essential for the students of my middle school, but this is a life lesson for everyone to carefully and sincerely follow. Comically enough, I've followed this lesson before I laid my eyes upon that passage, and I already acknowledged the significance of a sound mind over a notorious legacy. I don't intend to boast; I'm susceptible to being quick in anger and discouraged in spirit. However, pride is encouraging, but it's far too easy to corrupt it and engulf yourself in its never-ending hunger. Hubris is a tragic path, so it's best to let yourself feel the pride, but always stay humble and kind.

I've been interested in plenty of subjects throughout my life, but I've stuck with my primary goal of becoming a mechanical engineer. Graphic design is a close second, and earning a master's in theological studies follows behind. However, a long-term goal is to invent or innovate a patent; I don't care if I fulfill that goal during or after college. The reason why I want to become a mechanical engineer is standard: I like creating things. That fascination has stuck with me ever since I was in elementary, along with other matters where I showed concern. Specifically, global warming and pollution were subjects I was passionate about discussing, so much so that I invested my time in learning about various methods that assist in the fight against greenhouse gases. The graphic design talent didn't occur to me until my first year of high school, although I drew art before being introduced to graphic design. Now, I try to send messages through digital art and get in touch with clients to assist in spreading the word. Theology is the youngest of my goals, about two to three years old. Modernization has influenced how we interpret ancient texts, so understanding religious texts professionally would enlighten my perspective on what many would disregard immediately. Ultimately, my goals attempt to expand my experience and hopefully encourage others to dedicate blood, sweat, and tears to goals benefiting themselves and society. I wish to change this world, even if the effect is minuscule, and my effort will become a message for future generations to reach for the stars in ambition, grit, and determination with definite goals to set them through.

We all must face our darkest demons eventually, and I almost lost my battle during half of my experience in middle school; I've dealt with my devastating demon of alcoholism. Many drink to forget pain, memories, and more, but I drank because I enjoyed the flavor of alcohol. The bitterness from each sip of hard liquor can become more refreshing than water, and I discovered this, unfortunately, at such an early stage. Even worse, my mother is an alcoholic, so we hold numerous bottles of beer, wine, and hard liquor for me to drink whenever my parents leave. My mentality darkened each day I drank a bottle of whiskey during middle school, and I didn't know when to stop since I have a high alcohol tolerance. Roughly every time I drank, I was euphoric, almost to the point where I wrote poetry that I still remember today. However, my eye eventually opened, and I devoted myself to remaining abstinent. During my journey of abstinence, I felt unwavering urges to take another sip of any alcoholic beverage. However, my willpower to improve myself didn't fall where I could've dragged myself back into my severe alcoholism. To combat my addiction, I turned to hobbies to alleviate my mind, and I have also selected alternatives to replace alcohol; I used chocolate to replace the bitterness. Now, I am five years sober. I still have my urge to drink periodically; however, I attempt to put my future ahead of my addiction. Life can be such a blessing, but obstacles will challenge others through their patience and will, and I'm no different. However, improving one's journey means one must remain persistent, and I intend to remain sober for the future that I hold and the love I'm capable of giving unconditionally.

I once thought that giving people a hundred bucks and a gift was the most generous deed I could do, but how I was so naive. Periodically, I felt that the meal my mother prepared was just food, water someone kindly lent me was just a drink, and each word of kindness someone spoke in my direction was to gratify themselves. It wasn't until I had time to self-reflect that I noticed and understood the remarkable amount of generosity a single loving deed possesses, no matter how insignificant it seems. Verily, I've been unapologetically generous without acknowledging it. All through middle and high school, I've held doors for people, paid for meals for others who couldn't afford them and offered my time to do quick chores around the school like transporting papers. I've always checked if my family needed anything, especially my father, who suffers from a painful sciatic nerve that limits his physical abilities. Even a simple question about their day or if they need water is enough to leave them happy. I do the same for my friends, offering money and attention to alleviate their hardship. I didn't always understand why I did these sudden acts of kindness, but I soon realized that they were merely acts of love; they were mindless loving acts, the point of generosity. If generosity resembles love and enacts its virtues, its purpose is to help the needy, giving a voice to people who need it the most. As it's complete with compassion and consideration, generosity helps many climb mountains with peaks too high to reach on their own, and it's more than what meets the eye. Now, I don't just see a meal to eat, water to drink, or motivation from self-interest; I see love through acts ensuring I do the same.

I've heard people complain about how it's always the Christians opposing their goal of further amplifying abortion. However, I always laughed because I must've been the first Agnostic to believe that all human life is unique and precious, no matter what stage. Before believing in Jesus Christ, I cared little for the existence of deities, even though I grew up in a Catholic background. However, this didn't deter me from opposing abortion. Being an Agnostic at the time gave me the advantage of finding secular reasons supporting pro-life, excluding religion. Through this, my research led me to become pro-life. I concluded during middle school that a fetus was precious like any other human life and ought to be protected from harm, leaving me a minority among my peers. Basic embryology reveals that life begins at conception; rarely will a sincere embryologist argue otherwise. I understand a mother's unparalleled experience bearing her child; it is what many women say of being the most joyous, proud, and nurturing months of their lives despite pregnancy's expected hardships. To eliminate what's developing in the womb is to kill the mother's child; the mother cannot bear losing her child, especially during pregnancy. However, that was where the flaws began whenever common pro-choice arguments presented themselves. Seemingly, the offspring growing inside the womb is a baby when it's wanted but a fetus when it is not; that seems like a play with semantics stemming from emotion rather than logical reasoning. I once heard that the fetus is a parasite as it lives off the mother. Although they share similar qualities, symbiotic relationships don't apply to pregnancy because they're separate categories of nature; one explains the relationship between genera while the other is the reproductive purpose of a female mammalian genus. However, the worst response directed at me was how I shouldn't express my opinion and that it doesn't matter because I am a male; it's not my body. Statements like that are hypocritical, and I don't support positions that prohibit everyone from voicing their opinion on the matter. In pro-life, you can believe in God or not; all voices matter. The point of our existence is to fight for the precious, unique worth of human life. I donated to The Women's Resource Medical Center and Sisters of Life. I further educated myself about abortion through high school, promoting pro-life art and presenting a moral wager argument against abortion in my classes. I didn't need to do any of that, but I intend to share what I've found with brilliant minds who I hope to reconsider supporting an abomination of humanity. My generation overwhelmingly supports the pro-choice movement; this is why it's most important to bring light to the subject so that everyone can develop their unadulterated conclusion through critical thinking rather than a slogan. In my case, art and philosophy are two of my methods of sending a message about the sanctity of life. In the end, I want to die fighting the good fight, and this is a hill worth dying. Before believing in Christ, I saw myself as an Agnostic who believed in God because of my beliefs. However, I now acknowledge the blatant truth across the paradigm: human life is unique and precious, no matter what stage.

Ever since I was a toddler, I always wished to experience one thing: for once in my life, I pray to experience the crisp, cold winds of a temperate forest brushing my skin, birds singing beautiful songs as the sunshine breaches the thick blanket of trees. However, that is only for land. I would love to swim underneath the raging seas to see the colors of coral reefs and would adore every set of flora and fauna remaining. Perhaps the thick jungles of the Amazon or the diverse grassland of the African savannah would be splendid to see for another time, but they too are exquisite. Nature is such a beautiful, miraculous mystery of this universe. Nature never failed to amaze me for all of my life in both its appearance and structure. The diverse, colorful array of animals and plants, the compact ecosystem, and their extensive history is merely intriguing. It's inexplicable awe acknowledging organisms apart from ourselves, organisms that work in ways we cannot replicate ourselves and, applying ourselves as a reference, is abnormal. I even remember that my favorite channels were anything covering nature. However, not many say the same about admiring nature. I've helped by donating to organizations such as One Tree Planted and tried to bring awareness through my classmates by drawing nature and the grim realities of overhunting, deforestation, and global warming. Even for my engineering class, I attempted to create a trash compactor to neatly dispose of both compost and recyclable material so that urban cities and nature could have access to improved sanitary lives. Regardless of my efforts to salvage what this world offers are all for not, I can still admire its existence for now. Meanwhile, I'll still ponder on the presence of the divine-like nature of a temperate forest.

Studying can be tiresome, but I am tireless. I avoid succumbing to repetitive routines that many would prepare for studying, such as buying snacks, receiving high-grade equipment, and scrolling through YouTube for short-term solutions to my problem. My concern is whether I learned about the subject rather than merely passing a test. In doing so, I must use what I learned to the best of my abilities, but I also need to avoid anything susceptible to becoming stale. As a result, I shuffle my activities to improve my schedule for the day. If I need to study during the weekend, I walk around the block to ease my mind, and if I get tired during my studies, I merely exercise some more to get the blood flowing; after all, physical activity assists in cognitive health. I also take short breaks to listen to music, move around, draw, read, or listen to a lecture regarding my interests like theology and history. Listening to music and walking, two incredibly significant hobbies, also work harmoniously together, and it's the best experience I can ask for whenever I want to gather ideas and rest my mind. If I need to study during the week, I will lean towards using a digital planner to ensure that I don't forget important dates. Other than that, I still apply my other methods in my studying schedule. To vitalize my studying is to keep me interested; however, it's best not to get carried away with what I can do. If I lose track and procrastinate, I will do more harm than good. I have not gotten far in my education only to waste my opportunities, so I wish to keep track of my time and money. After all, I'm tireless to invigorate what's tiresome.

All it takes to change the course of history is the will of a single man. If that man is me, so be it; however, I cannot do this alone. Society will face endless challenges, each far worse than the last, and they grow far stronger the longer they persist and exist. Life is full of pain, but we can heal every scar by tackling the prominent social issues of this world. To heal, I have to do what I've tried to do for practically most of my life; it is to love another while providing wisdom and action. Anyone with a lovely, generous heart would assist another in the blink of an eye, especially in this world riddled with prominent social issues. If there is anything they could do to influence the future, they will take the chance. That is what I'm searching for, and that is what the world needs, someone who is willing to give a loving act. Even the tiniest actions, ranging from donation to voicing opinions on issues, brings forth effective, positive results for the future as you and I have contributed to society, bringing light to the situation and assisting in any way we can. We all hold roles in society, in our lives about how we need to be ourselves, that not another soul can receive the unique title of being you. Behind the positive message holds the relevance of diversity and embracing differences, an act of love and the gift of wisdom. Unadulterated wisdom is food for the soul and clarity for the mind; wisdom is what is needed to feel alive in life. I have helped others who had it rough in life, suffering from mental illness, by allowing them to express their sorrow and urging them to seek healing, any form of refuge that doesn't harm them any further. I provide push-back on their issues as I attempt to solve the situation alongside them, encouraging their efforts to improve since I always end the conversation with the reminder that I'm always available for a chat. After all, I've been there before, so I can relate; we all have. I, along with other bright-minded individuals, already influence this world through our loving acts; we, unfortunately, don't seem to recognize it all that often. However, our talents assist us in our paths as well. We all possess endless ambition and talents, ensuring that they never fade as we mature into adulthood. Our gifts, our masterpieces send messages like no other; they are cherishable treasures that we forever cherish, treasures we'll fail to comprehend or acknowledge until time munch away on our aging bodies. We can share our gifts and spread messages of love and hope. I have experienced envy, racism, hate, depression, and more flaws and temptations that all humans have faced; I can express my hardships through my talents, such as poetry, music, short stories, and art. By doing this, I encourage others to spread the word, and I bring forth awareness of the matter. There's nothing more gratifying than bearing witness to ambitious, active individuals expressing themselves with the intent of love. With whatever we may face in the future, regardless if they're blessings or curses, I, along with others who are willing to love, must stand firm and tall against it all. Our world will never be perfect; flaws will exist no matter what, bones will still break, and hearts will still shatter. However, in a world where love exists in the end, the light will overcome darkness. All it takes is the will of a single man.

Ryan and I were the dastardly duos and closest companions anyone could find. We have known each other from kindergarten, laughing, crying, and having our fair share of tension in our friendship. However, 2016 became forever stained with travesty and solemn for us. One night, Ryan and I were alone, and anything could occur without immediate consequences. Our friendship was tested repeatedly to its breaking point, where we shouted at the top of our lungs. However, we took a moment to compose ourselves then we did something that both of us never did, which was to open up. Ryan was a raging alcoholic and smoker; his mother was abusive towards him and his father; he broke up with his latest girlfriend; his life was miserable. I couldn't cry nor feel emotional, but I understood that his life was becoming a mess; my life wasn't too different from his. However, I could see the tears in his eyes as his emotions had become too heavy to bear. To alleviate his pain in any way I could, I began to joke around with him. We recalled hilarious memories as we became more physical, embracing each other in tight, heart-warming hugs. I would monitor people's body language and current situation, reacting with an appropriate response of both sympathy and empathy. Like everyone's emotions, I'd try to provide support by talking to them, cherishing their bravery of becoming vulnerable to settling raw anguish. Ryan was no different. However, friends come and go, and Ryan was no different. His passing didn't affect me at first, but as time flew by, I gradually understood the severity of losing someone you once appreciated. With this in mind, all that concerns me is providing both sympathy and empathy for others, hopefully healing the wounds and relieving their pain.

Right now, I'm grateful to see the sunset for another night. It was orange like the insides of flickering flames, transitioning into crimson-purple then pitch-black with shimmering stars above my head. Then I hear the crickets chirp, knowing that my hearing hasn't deteriorated, and appreciate the roof over my head with a fuzzy blanket to comfort me. Then I slumber peacefully, generous enough to smile as I have come so far with friends and family that I hold close to my heart. No matter how small and seemingly insignificant, everything presents qualities so I can be grateful. Warm water, clothes, my bed, and other things I experience daily are also what I appreciate, even though many wouldn't think twice about their significance in daily life. To show my gratitude, I would write, self-reflect, or enjoy the moment for as long as it can remain. I'd write poetry that tells stories with optimism, and my self-reflection reminds me to keep a happy, healthy mindset that I can swiftly lose grasp. However, enjoying the moment is simultaneously the easiest and most burdensome thing for me to do because I allow my raw, unfiltered emotions to flow. I am not optimistic, so I'm vulnerable to negative emotions taking over, but one instance of feeling appreciated and grateful for what I have helps my conscious to think more positively. However, my journey to fix my mindset is to see the bright side of every situation; I have been somewhat successful. It's simpler to be grateful now than before, and I assume that I appreciate my improvements too. However, if all fails, I'll be happy to see the sunset for another night, grateful to witness the fire-orange, crimson-purple, and pitch-black.

If I had to find what motivates me, it would most likely revolve around unraveling the truth or living to love another, putting it broadly. It's unclear if I have one thing that motivates me; I cannot identify any ideology, force, or human being that drives me to what I believe is right and contributes to society. There were particular moments in my life where I felt motivated for some reason, but I couldn't pinpoint it and had difficulty discovering what it was. All I know is that it includes the pursuit of truth and knowledge, and whenever I perform a loving act, two instances arise in particular. Mikayla, my closest friend, has a dark, depressing past similar to mine that she rarely opens up about to anyone. Her confession to me of her history and mindset left me with the obligation to express my empathy with a loving act. At that moment, I realized I felt the motivation to love; I needed to continue living my life with the intent to continue loving. However, the noble action to love another was more motivational than Mikayla's confession, but she helped ignite that flame. Even when I dove deep into learning about the Abrahamic faiths, the notion that truth lies in scripture motivated me to take my research seriously. I've read books, watched lectures, and attempted to speak three foreign languages because I felt motivated to find the truth in each religion; I wouldn't do stuff like that regularly. Consequentially, something motivates me, but I cannot identify it for myself to bear witness to it. Comically, the reason for my motivation is probably blatant, but I've been too busy to notice. Perhaps I'll unravel the source, but in the meantime, I'll search for truth while I live and love.

I never cared for bucket lists; I always saw them as unnecessary and dreary. However, I tried to turn over a new leaf in 2020, and I'm grateful that I have done something that kept me occupied but was humbling. I originally had planned three long-term goals on my bucket list that became somewhat fulfilled during quarantine: understanding apologetic philosophy, the Abrahamic faiths, and ancient Near East customs and languages. Previously, I knew little to nothing about religion, especially the big three being Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Since I had time to do more than formally planned, I thought it would be "fun" to read the Bible and Quran to find any significance. I already understood philosophical arguments, but being an Agnostic, I thought what I would see would be wasting valuable time. I was proven wrong. I couldn't be more interested in such subjects, learning from multiple lectures from several educators. Dr. Michael S. Heiser, Dr. David A. Falk, William Lane Craig, Dr. Joshua Bowen, Dr. Timothy J. McGrew, and many more intelligent individuals assisted my journey. I have invested my time analyzing biblical literature and reading Quranic recitations, including sunnah and hadith. Due to my increased investment in the Abrahamic faiths, I have made another three goals to my apparent bucket list: learn biblical Hebrew, Arabic, and Koine Greek. I'd figure it would be best to read the manuscripts in their original languages, so I'm partially successful; I can understand a few particular words and sentences in those three languages. I intend to be fluent in all three. I now care about my bucket list more than ever, and I won't let it waste since it's fun and exhilarating. I hope it'll grow larger with more ambition, and I cannot wait to see what intrigues me next.

Whether they are my means to survive within an unforgiving world or keep me entertained throughout my stoic, pessimistic life, my hobbies have been around nearly as long as I have. All I want to be is busy or happy; fulfilling both is pure, unparalleled ecstasy. Listening to music, drawing cartoons, creating songs, reading thrilling books, and writing stories and poems of multiple sizes and proportions leave me smiling like there's no tomorrow. Every octave is like an angel's sonnet whispered into my ear as each drawing I construct, a word I write, and an idea I produce leaves me with a shot of an intense bullet of dopamine. I'm head over heels over completed goals where I'm satisfied with my work. However, their main goal is to keep me simply busy. My hobbies alleviated my stress and expressed my highs and lows in life, especially poetry. I wrote numerous poems in two diaries that spanned roughly ten years, but I have discarded both journals; I regret the decision to rid myself of them. However, I added a twist to those poems that brought me the most joy. I combined my hobbies into one: I wrote poetry with doodles on the side of the stanzas interpreted as music and art. Each poem was the most major success, the worst burden, and the inconspicuous creation I wrote on paper wet from my sweat, blood, and tears. However, it is no different from the rest of my hobbies regarding their purpose in my life: to keep me busy. However, they do occasionally bring me cherishing joy that I struggle to understand periodically. Only at those moments do I feel those good vibrations and a roller coaster of emotions; pure, unparalleled ecstasy.

All it takes is a little push to encourage one's mind with determination and hope; however, that same little push can be enough to shatter one's dreams if done with horrid intent. Sadly, many take the latter, even though encouragement can take very little energy and help another go a long way. It reminds me of one day when I had to assist my friends in my speech and debate class. My group of four friends was a mixed bag; they were both overwhelmed and underwhelmed about public speaking, especially presenting to a crowd. I was the only kid who had no problem delivering my speeches, but the rest were not necessarily optimistic. To ensure they gave their best performances, I had to encourage their efforts to try, even offering constructive criticism that complimented their work but pointed out flaws. Honesty was all I gave, plain and simple, but it is also tough dealing with honesty for encouragement. I needed to encourage friends and strangers to make better decisions for themselves, even though the sacrifices such as relationships and addiction were unbearable to lose. Gabriel, a friend of mine, was a raging alcoholic for most of his life before passing by suicide, another struggle he endured. I tried my best to find a better path and choices, and I will never forget the moment he praised my efforts, claiming I was the only kid who helped him. I encouraged all of his valiant efforts, healthy choices to drink anything but alcohol, and self-esteem as he despised his physical appearance. All that's needed is a push in the right direction for someone to improve for the better. If another soul tries their best to encourage another, they have done a loving deed that will go a long way.

To look at the mirror is more than staring into the rejection of your reflection; you see who you honestly are. I have seen more than just rejection when I self-reflect on my past; I saw a kid who tried his best to be the best he could be, yet he still made plenty of damaging mistakes and ill-willed choices purposefully. However, I had a miraculous change of heart about what I would consider my past self, someone who couldn't understand love. I needed to focus on loving one another since I've had difficulty comprehending the significance of such an action morally founded in love. I started minding my language to avoid offending any individual maliciously. I began to focus more on the well-being of the vulnerable who come to me rather than finding a weak spot to exploit their emotions and resources; strangers are no exception. I designed jerseys for my mother's LGBTQ+ team, sold jerseys to my school's Gay and Straight Alliance club, and participated in my school's Jewish Student Union even though I'm Christian. I have also fed the hungry by joining The Just One Project, acting as a pantry by placing food boxes in their cars and writing down information. Now, I wish to pursue a bachelor's degree in my major, but in the end, I will receive a piece of paper; what matters is what I can do for the future. By simply smiling, holding doors, comforting the mournful, and showing a loving act, I'd help change this world or, at least, one's perception of life. Perhaps I'll look into the mirror one last time and smile, acknowledging that I achieved my goal of being the best person I could be and hopefully persuading others to do the same and try to love.

Throughout my life, I have experienced many tragedies stemming from horrendous situations. The family I cherished masked the devastation with deceitful happiness. My cousin's severe drug addiction twisted his mind, hellbent on retrieving more of what slowly kills him. Conflicts divided my family, shattering our once-powerful bond. My dad loathed my mother's alcoholism and aggressive arguments too often. My father's parents began to belittle him, holding an ominous grudge against both my parents. My great-grandmother injured herself and went to the infirmary, and I watched her suffer. Any bright and optimistic spirit became overwhelmed in such a raging sea of hate, bearing false witness and addiction. Sadly, there were occasions when I wasn't too different from one of them as I grew up. I'm only the tiniest fraction of millions upon billions globally who suffer from injustices and suffering occurring in any shape or form. What I've seen with others was worse than what I have endured. Now, travesty broadcasts worldwide, and each month introduces its tragic event, whether it is a shooting or fierce politics. However, I have attempted to gain the slightest wisdom in finding solutions for what dwells within the dark, treacherous hearts inside us all. In the end, love is what can save us, or at least change the mind of a broken soul. If we speak with the immaculate wisdom of the greatest philosophers, harmonious like an angel's sonnet but have no love, our words are nothing more than crashing symbols. We may sacrifice our lives for another and give everything of possession to the poor, but if there is no love, our actions do no good. We can possess all knowledge that answers the finest secrets, all power to move mountains, and all of time itself to live forever and young; however, if there is no love, we are nothing. Love is patience and kindness, protection and trust. It does not envy or boast, nor does it celebrate in evil but rejoices with the truth. As we age, all that is good will soon pass, and everything that we can do won't stop a bullet from piercing a body or can change every heart. However, as love has room to exist, hope will follow soon after. Love never fails. With love comes justice, wisdom, faith, and hope for the betterness of the world. There is no nationality, color, gender, or sexual orientation in the love we all possess, as it covers all mistakes and wrongdoings. The tiniest deeds, ranging from opening a door and making another joyous smile, will majorly impact the future we will leave a message on lasting generations. However, love still admits a harsh reality that is unforgettable, but it is hope nonetheless. Bones will still break, hearts will still shatter, but in the end, the light will overcome darkness.

All one can do is breathe in and out, but that isn't enough in this world anymore. Stress peeks its ugly head around the corner to cause anxiety and make life worse than it needs to be, and no one is left unscathed from this. I have experienced concerning levels of stress before, enduring plenty throughout adolescence; however, I am grateful that it hasn't become incredibly severe where I suffer anxiety attacks while overwhelmed. I cope in multiple ways: listening to music, drawing, writing, reading, walking, and merely daydreaming. Most hobbies, if not all, originate from my childhood, and I never lost interest in doing something that I love rather than find as a chore. I'd use my imagination to place my focus on another more satisfying goal in a world less strict with its rules; my little world. The best stress reliever assisting me is laughter. All that's needed is one big, silly smile with child-like giggling; it is enough to brighten my day no matter its abyss of worrisome darkness. Of course, I don't intend to neglect my academic and personal life through my relaxation, and that's where my pessimistic, cynical mind attempts to become more optimistic. Through the mental lenses that focus on the little things in life, everything becomes somewhat sweeter, even when I was starving and struggling with my mental health during middle school. The meagerness of stress becomes ever more apparent in my life, and it becomes comprehensible the more I self-reflect; it's normal to feel like the world weighs on your shoulders. I'm relaxed with little to no stress to cause levels of concern, but all I needed to feel somewhat at ease without my hobbies was to breathe in and out. However, that's not enough in this world anymore.

As children, we fill with endless ambition and curiosity that sadly fades as we mature into adulthood. However, whenever I deeply look into the night sky filled with the blinding light that shines through the deep dark abyss, my inspiration for what's out there grows, the inspiration of my plenty of relaxing talents. I continuously invest my time and effort into several hobbies and expertise that have been with me ever since I was a toddler. I draw cartoons, write stories, create music, perform public speeches, and do more than I could probably imagine. I have put my talents into good use, getting paid by clients and a company for my skills in graphic design as I can create logos and jersey designs. I have also taken it upon myself to present school projects, gaining the crowd's attention through my charisma and presence. I endlessly write; I've written poetry, short stories, and novellas since elementary. I have even joined an imaginative writing class and attempted to publish my stories. Regarding music, I research types of music and use programs to create anything I wish. I, of course, do not intend to sound like a narcissist; everybody is unique in special, particular ways. My talents wouldn't be fun if they were not already my favorite hobbies; it makes me feel like a child again, but that's the miracle of growing up without growing old. It offers cherishable treasures within our childhood. They are treasures we'll fail to comprehend or acknowledge until time munch away on our aging bodies, so I must continue to cherish the amazement of childhood and the talents and hobbies that make me who I am, improving in everything I can. Experience through life; that's one way to improve, and I've already done it.

Through Ryan, my dearest friend, I have learned the benefits of honesty which impact me to this day, maturing me into becoming an honest man on one fateful day. Liar, deceiver, fibber, trickster; maturity opened my eyes so I may finally realize that I was once one of those mischievous falsifiers. Whenever I was guilty, I would pitifully offer multiple excuses as my cowardice of the consequences haunted me. During the second grade, Ryan and I are the sly bunch, the con artists of our school. On one fateful day, we constructed a rascally plan containing a foolproof idea that would benefit us. However, we got caught committing the inescapable act. Attempting to avoid frightful consequences, I pitifully and desperately exclaimed multiple unbelievable lies. Before I dug my grave any deeper, Ryan interrupted my rambling and spoke truthfully. At the end of the interrogation, only I received punishment for my lying. Suddenly, the lesson hit me like a freight train; lying will not always solve the situation. From that moment on, I promised myself, to be honest, to become a trustworthy citizen of society. With the best policy of my honesty, I decided to show my talent for public speaking in speech and debate during my first year at high school. However, the biggest reason why I joined was because of its diversity. We have all heard many inspiring quotes in our lives about how we need to be ourselves, that not another soul can receive the unique title of being you. Behind the positive message holds the relevance of diversity and embracing differences. The importance of diversity stems from magnificent minds possessing spectacular motives and aspects of life and the sinister consciousness of the twisted who are unsympathetic and dangerous by nature or nurture. However, that is the point of diversity: the similarities and differences between individuals in society. The capacity of knowledge and emotion someone contains is ultimately limitless as the malleable future changes by actions in our world are minuscule or compelling. The marvelous existence of diversity is delightful; our world would exist as a colossal failure of individualism and freedom without the behavior of one human being, miraculous as it may seem. Experiencing the distinction between communities brings me immense joy as diversity rewards our rarity and uniqueness. Inevitably, the unpredictability of life and the inevitable suffering from pain is something we will all face in a moment of our lives. However, speech and debate have partially given me an outlet to present the hardships in this world, allowing me to express how I feel about particular subjects. My acceptable reason for this is an undeniable fact that all of us are human: complex animals that communicate with emotion and are deeply flawed with the inner demons that reside inside that entice us with the temptation of treachery. In many cases, concerns will never go away, but bottling them up will only result in an imminent meltdown of mental health and independence.

An old saying goes, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Behind the positive message holds the relevance of love and giving alms to the poor. Ever since I was a child, I possess endless kindness and respect that never fades as I mature into adulthood. However, whenever I deeply look into the night sky filled with the blinding light that shines through the deep dark abyss, my inspiration for what's out there grows, the moral obligation of giving alms to the poor, to assist whoever I can in the best of my ability. Helping others, regardless of how little the task is, is more than a pleasure. Its impact on my life is significant, and without it, I cannot speak of myself as a righteous, loving man. The humblest experience of all is the recognition of my fortunate upbringing. It is astonishing how many were not so lucky to be blessed with the opportunities I hold in my palm. It offers memorable treasures that we forever cherish within our lives, treasures we'll fail to comprehend or acknowledge until time munch away on our aging bodies. Remembering the moment of the glimmering eyes of someone I have helped is the treasure I hold, continuing to cherish the amazement of love. A drop of water and a crumb of bread is nothing; I will show no emotion. However, the droplet quenches the thirst, and the breadcrumbs satiate the hunger of the poor; it is everything they need to survive for another day. If it means that I will see another smile from the love I can offer, I'm satisfied. I have given alms to the poor; I have fulfilled a purpose.

We've all heard those unique quotes in our lives about how we need to be ourselves, that not another soul can receive the irreplaceable title of being you. Behind the positive message holds the relevance of love and giving alms to the poor. The importance stems from magnificent minds holding onto spectacular motives and aspects of life and the optimistic consciousness of the wise who are sympathetic and admirable by nature or nurture. Ultimately, that's the point of love: the similarities and differences between individuals in society. The capacity of knowledge and emotion a person contains is immeasurable as the malleable future changes by actions in our world are minuscule or compelling. The marvelous existence of diversity is delightful; our world would exist as a colossal failure of individualism and freedom without the unimaginable behavior of one human being. Experiencing the distinction between communities brings me immense joy as diversity rewards our rarity and uniqueness. It doesn't matter who they are, everyone deserves their chance, so I volunteered and joined The Just One Project. My job is to serve the poor by feeding them, assigned by being the mobile pantry where I distribute each customer their ration of food for the week. I showed up only to assist them, not for a salary or public recognition; I wanted to help those in need, and I could care less about the rewards I may receive from it. Ever since I was a child, I possess endless kindness and respect that never fades as I mature into adulthood. However, whenever I deeply look into the night sky filled with the blinding light that shines through the deep dark abyss, my inspiration for what's out there grows, the moral obligation of giving alms to the poor, to assist whoever I can in the best of my ability. Sometimes, folks will say that there should be better, more important things of your ambitions to focus on rather than help others, forcing you to grow up and leave your love behind. However, growing up without growing old while helping one another is an important lesson to praise for our happiness during maturity. It offers memorable treasures that we forever cherish within our lives, treasures we'll fail to comprehend or acknowledge until time munch away on our aging bodies. Remembering the moment of the glimmering eyes of someone I have helped is the treasure I hold, continuing to cherish the amazement of love. Helping others, regardless of how little the task is, is more than a pleasure. Its impact on my life is significant, and without it, I cannot speak of myself as a righteous, loving man. The humblest experience of all is the recognition of my fortunate upbringing. It is astonishing how many were not so lucky to be blessed with the opportunities I hold in my palm. A drop of water and a crumb of bread is nothing; I will show no emotion. However, the droplet quenches the thirst, and the breadcrumbs satiate the hunger of the poor; it is everything they need to survive for another day. If it means that I will see another smile from the love I can offer, I'm satisfied. I have given alms to the poor; I have fulfilled a purpose.