Common App Prompt: Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
Another photography related essay, but about a more recent event (actually from the last weekend) in a little more story and less gloomy images.
A remembrance on one late spring
afternoon
I
sat on the stairs in front of the apartment waiting Jaekyeong to come out. Late
afternoon sun glowed over the village. Jaekyeong came down and stood in front
of me. I picked up my camera and started walking. Jaekyeong followed swiftly.
I
walked quite fast so Jaekyeong had to catch up on walking with me. She grabbed
my arms. “Could you PLEASE walk a little slower or something?” I shrugged, “I’m
being slow, you know.” I grabbed my camera in my right hand and stroked her
hair with another. She grabbed her camera, too. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity
and joy mixed with a little bit of confusion. She tried adjusting her camera,
clicking buttons and turning gears. Then she sighed a bit, and pushed it in
front of me.
“My
camera is answerless. How come it doesn’t really do anything with M mode?”
“Maybe
because many people only use mirrorless cameras in automatic mode. Just use it
with A Mode or T Mode.”
“I’m
ALREADY doing that.”
Her
lips rose with a slight arrogance, a cute smile full of pride that kids usually
wear when they feel they are great. She then immersed into taking photos,
clicking and adjusting her sleek white camera. Her round black eyes rolled in
excitement. Her frustration seemed to work as a stimulus pushing her into the
world of photography. I focused my camera to Jaekyeong: to delicate movements
of her fingers, to her glowing black eyes, and to her face lightly puckered
with seriousness.
We
walked around the park under cherry blossom trees. Now evening was approaching
and orange pink light was seeping through everywhere. People were pouring out
from the zoo. We were surfing against the pink-gold waves of crowd, in search
for faces and moments. The most remarkable ones came from babies and small
kids. Their youthful movements and lighted faces were purely joyful. They did
not show the slightest sign of fatigue or groan. No exaggerated movements or
expressions that couples in twenties bore, no reluctance that older ones bore.
They were just there in the park, running and laughing and playing. Nobody
could intrude their immaculate delight in the moment. Orange sunbeams and baby
pink flowers shone like halos behind them.
I
was taking photos of these kids when I realized that Jaekyeong was not beside
me. Suddenly I got very nervous, and the orange pink light lost its
gorgeousness. The light was rather romantically muzzy. I crossed the road,
heading to the museum hill, wondering if she would be there. I held my hand
near my eyes, trying to avoid the sunlight blocking my sight. Azaleas lighted
up the hill with its pinkish violet petals. There I saw Jaekyeong, and all
azaleas around her blurred like magical bubbles from faraway.
Her
movements were subtle in somewhat decisive and solemn way. She also emitted the
youthful delight that the younger children in the park showed, and nobody could
break into this immaculate pleasure she rejoiced. But Jaekyeong’s had this
graveness that kids did not have. She beautifully gleamed rather than thoughtlessly
sparkled, not like from the days she were few months ago. She was not “the little
one” whom I did not understand and worried about. She was more than just a cute
little sister who did not know much about many things. Her soft stinginess in
her fingertips bore the faith and confidence she had about her own life.
I
silently approached Jaekyeong, hiding myself behind the stone wall. I held my
camera and focused on her hands and the flowers she were taking picture of. The
sun was going down. The sun projected the last golden beam to the world, to the
park, and to Jaekyeong’s eyes. I pressed the shutter, and cherry blossoms faded
and mingled with shades of azaleas. (635 words)
Common App Prompt: Describe a place or environment where you are perfectly content. What do you do or experience there, and why is it meaningful to you?
I got the idea from the feedback I got from my commissioned essay.
The
Eight-Thirty-Five Subway
Eight thirty-five in the morning,
the train now approaches Sadang. People with earphones in their ears,
newspapers in their hands, backpacks on their shoulders struggle to the door. A
crowd pours out, and another pours in. Silent but aggressive fight occurs
within seats, driven by morning fatigue. I blink my eyes, trying to distract tiredness
out of my sight. Sleepiness presses down my head. I crave the comfort of
sitting down on the seat so much, but I persevere to stand up. Leaning near the
door, against the bars, I fix my arms on the wall and focus on the shadows that
linger on subway windows.
Everyone is separated. Nobody is
interested to others. Placing themselves in the world of newspapers and books
and cellphones, people rather seem to be living in different dimensions. The
figures of people packed in the subway look like hollow apparitions of them who
are actually living in outer space. Everyone is heading somewhere, to every
direction far and near from each other, to all different places. It is even
mysterious that they are boxed up in this one vehicle that drives them to same
direction and same stations.
Shadows and reflections of people
intersect one another. One shadow slides into the darkness of the transferring
platform. A reflection from another train rests a while on the window of the
train I am in. Although they do not realize how their fragments are overlapped
and coexistent, people anyway pass by and pay attention to what they are
interested in at the time. Even though I am playing the observer from my
perspective, I am also another part of this set of momentary encounters, packed
in the subway and heading together with the unknown crowd.
I now focus the camera on my
reflection on the window. As I face the darkness beyond the door, between the
platforms outside, a flash of another arriving train penetrates the space
between my shadow and darkness. I set the shutter speed to one tenth. The people
behind the windows blur and stretch horizontally with the direction the
arriving train is heading. I let myself separated but harmonize with this
familiar-strange scene. I look like as if I am wandering in the sea of lost
souls, trying to listen to something.
I push my camera back inside the
train. It is eight forty-three, and the train is approaching Seoul Station.
Another series of silent fights take place around empty seats. The man who
succeeded taking the seat looks relieved, and he let his falling eyelids close.
A woman with a big backpack seems stressed, not being able to sit. Then a
little story seems to bloom from this dry space of indifference.
Maybe
each people as an individual play no big role in the stage people have in their
own minds. Before the encounter or any events, they are only fragments
scattered in various corners of the world. However, when people bump into
others, as they realize each other, then some story begins between them, making
spaces between their fragmented existences. (510 words)
Before I start, I should explain about my work which is quite different from what Mr. Garrioch seemed to intend: I have to admit that my attempt to connect the things in my real life episode in a form of mosaic failed. However, I still tried to maintain the concept of mosaic by relating it with my viewpoint on the world. This essay is centered on two themes of photography and poetry, along with my Buddhist way of seeing the world. Although it is quite abstract one, I hope you could enjoy.
* * *
What I believe about the world we are living in is that everything is interrelated. Memories, events, objects work as fragments forming a certain tale that form a person. People, plants, animals, air, water and everything around us work as collective fragments forming a more collective, holistic tale. Although the essence of this system is relationship that connects each fragment to another, what are visible and seems ‘real’ are only the fragments themselves, seemingly separated and scattered here and there.
Now, because these relationships are not visible and incomprehensible to the people that are also the fragments themselves, people strive to make sense on their own. Relating things carefully in their own ways, each person creates the world of his or her own. It is them who have the power to give meaning to each piece: transforming nothing into something. In this sense, the process of creation, especially photography and poetry is the most intense type of connecting fragments to me. They are both literal and fictional production of the previous ‘unseen’ images and meanings out of what people usually slip away.
That is why I focus much on people passing by, people that I am familiar with, and objects that I am familiar with. I do not like pictures or literary works that are explicitly exotic from the subject matter. That is why my photos and poems are usually about the things that I know well, but have potentials that I can endlessly go through small and big revelations. I always try to keep them simple but graphic in order to make it understandable when one first encounter the work, but have layers and depth inside as one involve and think more.
The series that I personally like best from my photo works is the ones I took in the subway. Even though I am the ‘observer’ who is looking the passengers from the outside, I am at the same time another passenger on the subway who is heading somewhere. I am and have to be the part of the scene that I am trying to capture. In this familiar-but-estranged space called the subway, people coexist first in the physical space of the train, second in the individual mental spaces on their own, and third in the unrecognized space of interrelated bonds between them. I expressed these layers of meaning by placing people in this train and another, on this platform and the other in windows, in the form of reflections. There, the strangers are living in the fictional space of mirrors in illusionary figures of reflections, separating themselves and connecting themselves simultaneously.
In poetry, since it is a more ‘literary’ type, I have to be more skillful in making the work graphic. I usually set the central plot or the situation of the poem that involves sensual images, and then chooses and places the words to create multiple layers that not only show the actual real-life experience that I have gone through, but also the chains of thoughts and revelations that I have gone through. For instance, to explain the process of maturation through painful experiences, I recalled my memory of passing by a broken window. When one is confined inside the limits they set in themselves, they cannot reach beyond that. However, to reach further, one has to break out of the wall. Breaking out inevitably assumes wounds that hurt the person from the fragments that had fallen from the walls that they penetrated. Alternating this process with seeing the broken window while walking around illustrates the unavoidable wound one must suffer in order to grow up.
Many think that creation is burst of new things out of nowhere, but I do not agree. Everything is just there, not blazing but gleaming for someone to find it, relate it with another, and give meaning to it. That is the only thing I can and have to do. (650 words)
Before I start, I clarify that the order of
the list is completely random, not organized in the order of importance.
1, Photography
I
really like photography because it is very intense. In a very short period of
time, thousandths and hundredths of seconds, I should adjust my camera as I
want, and capture the moment I want to grasp. I have to think and carefully
pick the moment I want to use, and the scope I want to focus, so that I could
get the wanted image that I had in mind. In that my photography is quite ‘meta,’
since I believe photos should be aware that they are photos, and they should
truthfully tell people what the photographer have felt or thought or saw at the
moment. What I focus on is what I have in mind ‘at the moment’ and tries to
depict that through photography. Photography is not mere evidence or records
that objectively shows ‘the reality,’ but means to cherish and express the
subject viewpoint of the photographer’s life, world, and what he or she is. I
believe that is what Marc Riboud, my favorite photographer, meant in his famous
saying, “Taking pictures is savoring life intensely, every hundredth of a
second.”
2. Poetry
Writing
poetry is also a very intense activity. I enjoy the process of painstakingly organizing
the words at right places as if I do in organizing the composition of the
photos. I should sincerely indulge myself into the experiences or concepts that
I want to present while writing poems. If I don’t, the poem loses its meaning
and remains superficial. That is why I only write poems in Korean, as I am not
that familiar with English yet to consider all the nuances and cadences of
words. Maybe I will try writing poems in English later when I get more
comfortable with it, but not yet.
3. Coffee
I
am indeed a caffeine addict. I cannot live without coffee even for a day. At
school, coffee serves more of means of survival rather than delicious drink.
Many people call my cold, bottled coffee ‘death potion’ since it is very strong
for most people, and bitterness is strengthened as it is cooled. Although I
cannot manage to drink delicious coffee at KMLA, what I really like about
coffee is its deep bitterness that softly seeps into my tongue and throat. It
should be mild at the start, but gradually become bitter and leave long-lasting
aftertaste. Thus my favorite coffee is Cappuccino. Its tender foam on the
surface turns to milky softness as it moves from my mouth to the throat, and it
leaves profound aftertaste of coffee bean and cinnamon.
4. Mint
I eat Altoids
Spearmint every day. I drink Mint Chocolate when I go to Hollys, and eat Andes
chocolate. I love the aftertaste of mint that is somewhat spicy and refreshing,
as it refreshes my mouth as well as my head.
5. Mom
My
mom and I are more like friends rather than mother and daughter. I talk very
casually to my mom and she does too. Strangely, my mom at the same time is very
strict when she thought I am going against what she wanted me from me. However,
I am also a very stubborn in following my own will. That nature of our
relationship actually caused many fights and clashes, especially during the
middle school years. As I started to live in the dormitory, we became more
comfortable with each other and ceased to fight. Now she respects my decisions
and the path that I want to take. I also understand the concerns of my mom, and
even thank her, for her harsh scorns and criticisms made me to think harder and
come up with my own reasons and explanations better. That even helped me to not
have much difficulty in counseling sessions: I have never met anyone who
criticized my decision severer than my mom.
6. Buddhism
Although
I am an atheist, I was deeply influenced by Buddhism, mainly as a way of
viewing the world. I do not literally believe in karma, but I think karma is
meaningful in that it represents that a person is made up of various past
events and encounters, and the present will also make a future self of that person.
7. Literature
What
I believe in human nature is that there are parts that can be studied through ‘sciences’
and parts that cannot. I think literature deals with the parts that cannot be
studied through ‘sciences,’ and that is what I like best about literature. I
also like the moments of delight when I encounter an insightful literary
expressions. Reading literary works are excursion to me, traveling the parts
that I have never known, or only had slightest idea about.
8. Cheese
Brie
is my favorite one, but I like all cheese that I have tasted. These creamy
substances really make me go crazy. I usually eat Brie or Camembert when I go
home, but I also love fresh Mozzarella with tomato. Crackers often make a good
company with cheese, but I find fruit is better. The latest combination I liked
was Brie with tangerines.
9. Beer
I
usually drink beer with my mom, since my dad is almost allergic to alcohol. She
needed a company so she once asked me to try, and I liked it. The first beer I
tried was Cass. Cass is quite mild and soft, so I asked my mom that I want
something more sparkling. Therefore my mom and I tried another, and this
process went on and on. I did not drink beer that often, of course, and I
always drank with my mom. Finally we found our best to be “Weihenstephaner Hefe
Weissbier.” It has a very soft bubbles that pleasantly goes down the throat,
and hardly bitter in taste.
10. Drawing(painting)
I
usually draw or paint to express things that require image rather than
language. I do not paint well, but I still like the feeling of brushstrokes and
pencil marks when I draw or paint something on a piece of paper. What I usually
draw is self-reflections expressed in surreal settings, self-portrait, or
stuffs on my desk.
11. French
I
first started to learn French in KMLA because I wanted to be a diplomat, and
French is important language in diplomacy. Although I found that I am not good
at and do not like diplomacy and debate tactics, I still liked French, and
French has been the subject that I always got good grades. Its grammar rules
and pronunciation is complex and delicate, and that spurred my challenging
spirit. The fact that many of the writers and artists that I like are French
also makes me study the language harder. Now in the senior year, I am reading ‘Le
Petit Prince’ and ‘Marcellin Caillou’ in my French class. Preparing for class
takes me a very long time indeed, about three times longer than it did in the
last two years, but reading the books I like in its original language is worth
the effort.
12. Samulnori
I
always wanted to learn Samulnori since I was very young. Thus I became a member
of Samuchim, a Samulnori club in KMLA as a buk(Korean traditional drum) player.
Playing buk requires a lot of physical strength compared to other instruments,
because buk should be hit very hard to make a profound sound. Since buk plays a
role similar to a bass guitar in a band, buk is very crucial in making the
sound harmonious, but at the same time not so conspicuous compared to kkwaenggwari(a
small gong), Janggu(an hour-glass shaped drum) and Jing(a larger gong). The
rhythm of Buk is not as intricate as leading kkwaenggwari or Janggu, and not
that powerful as jing. However, without buk that wraps all sounds of the
instruments, the sound remains weak. To make the sound profound and harmonious,
buk is really important. I also like the sound of buk because it resembles
heartbeat. That makes me immersed in the moment when I am playing buk, and
express the ecstasy I feel.
13. Designing
I
think designing is transforming the abstract idea or concept of a product or a
slogan into visible images and composition so that everyone could understand
the idea easily. A design should be direct, concise, and at the same time,
pretty. That is why designing is vexing but at the same time interesting. These
are some of the designs that I did last year.
14. Slowness
I
am very slow in doing almost everything. I usually think ‘too much’ and my
thought goes on and on, until I find the most appropriate idea that could solve
my questions. I cannot just create a BS, especially when I write. I usually try
hard to meet the deadline. But when my results at the time are below the
quality that I want, I rather submit the work later and get my points deducted.
15. 702(L): Left side of room 702
The
first semester of my junior year, I spent a lot of time in room 702, where my
best friend Jingyeong lived. There, I became almost a part of that room and 702
kids called me the seventh member of 702. Spending that much time in that room,
I even became really close with Isabella and Sunnie, who were roommates of
Jingyeong. After spending one semester that close, going on vision trip
together, and taking many classes together, we four became best friends. Now, I
cannot imagine myself without them. Strangely, we meet frequently even when we
do not intended to, and naturally have conversation very often. In the moments
I feel dreadful and the moments I feel enlightened, I never feel that lonely
because there are Jingyeong, Sunnie and Isabella who are ready to listen to me.
16. 602(R): Right side of room 602
Last
semester, I lived in room 602, and met Chunghyun and Jee as roommates. We never
expected we would be a very good company, since we did not seem to share any
common interests from the outside. However, just after about a week, we felt
really comfortable with each other, and became really close. We three were
outgoing at the outside but had really timid parts inside. We three all were
the oldest kid of our families, and we all had many concerns that we did not
tell many people. By talking together and sharing our concerns, we were able to
soothe disconcertedness. We even helped one another academically, by sharing
notes and giving short lectures about the subjects one needed help and one knew
better. I cannot meet them very often this semester since I hardly take any
classes together with them, but we still remain good friends.
17. Epik High
Epik
High, a.k.a. Tablo, Mithra Jin and DJ Tukutz, are my favorite musicians. Not
only because their rap skills are great, their lyrics and beats are very keen
in observing the things that we usually do not care about. I especially like
their fifth album Pieces, part one.
This album uses imagery of urban daily lives that is very common around us but
we do not identify that seriously. The track I like most in this album is “Ignition.”
I like the metaphors of light and darkness alternating as the focus moves from
inner pain and outer events. The part of the lyric I like the most is “everything
fades away into a shade of gray / the darkness of the heartless enslaves the
day / and i pray to save you but it′s safe to say / au revoir ce soir je suis désolé”
18. Demian
Demian
is the book of my life. Like Sinclair did in Demian, I was able to break out of
the egg that kept me inside that limited scope of thoughts. I then clearly saw
what I cared most was not what I thought by myself, but more likely what adults
told me to do. That is why I chose to focus more on what I really like, such as
photography and literature. I even decided to move back to international field.
19. Korean
I
personally dislike the idea of unconditional love and pride toward one’s nationality.
However, ‘Korean’ is a very important part of consisting me. It refers to all:
my nationality, my mother tongue, my homeland, its history, and all cultural heritages
in it. I believe one’s national or cultural identity is meaningful in that it
is a part that consists oneself. Not because one’s nation is to be proud of, or
national pride is obligatory, but the culture one was born and raised in has
had shaped that person. Denying that identity is going against what one is, and
all the background that one was raised in. Korean language and culture is
indeed profound. I especially love the sound-friendly nature of the language,
that you can actually write almost exactly as you say, and this creates
enormous possibility of expressing five senses and variations of adjectives and
adverbs that are similar but different in nuances and cadences as you speak.
20. Philosophy
What
I like about philosophy is similar to what I like about literature. It questions
the most basic parts of human nature that we often consider as common sense. I
think I especially like philosophy because this kind of thought process is what
I always do. Questioning and alienating the concepts I believed to be true, I
break down what I thought of, and try to explain the flow of thought and
behaviors.
21. Stubbornness
I
am very stubborn. I have been stubborn since I was really young, and I always
fought with my mom or severely scolded. Strangely, this clashes made me to
develop my own arguments and philosophy more intricately and well-organized so
that I would be able to argue my stances even more stubbornly. I do not obey
what I think is against my philosophy, as you could see in my winter vacation
essays. I even argue against teachers when I do not think it is right, and I
indeed did not do any homework during the last semester’s AP English literature
class. Although this stubbornness makes me tired sometimes, I like my style, in
that at least I know what I want to do and what I am doing in this world full
of uncertainties.
22. Grandfather
My mother was the only child of my
grandparents, so they cherished my sister and me endlessly. Our names were
given by our grandfather, and that quiet, hard-looking guy always showed smile
to us. Although he died 5 years ago, he still remains as a powerful mystery to
me. Many relatives say that I resemble my grandfather a lot, and praise him as
wise, able person. This makes me feel ambivalent: I am grateful to hear such
comments but I am not really sure if I deserve those, and honestly, I do not
remember clearly about him. Still, I remember the shining eyes of my
grandfather while in his patient gown and breathing faintly.
23. Grandmother
Although
my grandmother is now over 70 years old, she still runs her business. She
always cleans the rooms and facilities. She never gets tired, and she even
practices writing Korean and English characters. She did not have much
education when she was young, but she is very keen in perceiving things, and
open-minded. I always carry the small note in my wallet that my grandmother
wrote me after practicing writing. That gives me strength and courage to keep
on going, and reminds me of unconditional love that she gives to me.
24. My name
I
hated my name when I was young. I wanted to have pretty, girlish name rather
than mine which was unisexual. I had always seen boys that have same name as
mine, and felt dreadful about it. However, as I grew up, I realized that my
unisexual name did not give any bad impression, but rather neutral one as it
was not girlish. I also liked the meaning of the name: ruler of the abilities.
Since it is consisted with very simple Chinese characters, my name as a whole
means that able person is the one who approaches the matter simply and clearly.
25. Low-tone
My
voice is very low, sometimes even lower than boy’s. My voice turned this way
since middle school, where I had to fight with troublesome boys that tried to
make fun of me. I learned a lot of swear words, and fiercely screamed at them.
Although I did not like the change in my voice, since it created many misunderstandings,
I now like my voice. How much awkwardness could be raised if my voice was high?
My stubborn, a bit nonchalant, loud-voiced nature mixed with high-tone voice would
have definitely been disastrous.
26. My sister, Jaekyeong
I
have a younger sister who is three years younger than me. While I like
studying, reading books and writing stuffs, JK does not. She is more interested
into practical things like managing money and fashion trend (not that I do not
care about clothes but she is really into ‘trend’ and knows much more than me).
Because of this difference, my existence had been a great burden to JK. I am
always sorry for that, and not try to interfere into her world. She is pretty
mature for her age in understanding me and our parents, but she is still very
young when it gets to grades and teachers and friends. She is still a very
bright kid, and especially has great artistic talents, but she gives up when some
kind of pressure pushes her to turn her pure interest into her future career. I
am waiting for her to find some things that she want to do at the end.
27. Mochi
Many
people tell me that I resemble ‘mochi,’ a Japanese rice cake that is very white
and soft and chewy. Similar expressions that people also found to be similar to
me are: rice cake, dough, and dumpling—foods that consist mainly of
carbohydrate.
28. Skin trouble
Although
my skin appears fairly untroublesome, my skin is actually very oily. Thus
during ‘hell weeks,’ all my potential pimples pop out, only around my nose and
forehead. Those parts turn red, and then yellow, making me ooze the pus out of
those tiny volcanoes. This oozing process really sores, and even looks bad.
29. Brain paralysis
Whenever
I write, I encounter this paralysis. It is the situation when I think too much
that I cannot write anything. Everything seems to not make sense or I cannot
organize my thoughts into understandable language. Then my brain stops, as if
it is suffering from paralysis, and then I should rest. Unfortunately, I am
suffering from this phenomenon very often this semester since I take too much
writing-reading classes. However, I cannot stop to rest, because there is
basically no time. Ethics and Ideologies plus AP English Literature plus AP
World History plus French literature plus Debate and argumentative essay plus
World Literature plus SAT French equals Hell.
30. Sleep
I
desperately yearn for sleep, but there are thousands of miles to go before I sleep.
Yay. I still have to prepare my French literature presentation, study for the
vocabulary quiz, read Araby and M. Butterfly, research for next debate class,
study for the World History quiz, write cover letter and three peer letters!
*This essay is based on my own experience, but names of people and specific experiences are modified a little to make it less sensitive. The last time I was afraid, I was sitting
on my desk, chatting on Facebook. It was a usual conversation, about somewhat
trivial and somewhat serious concerns that I had in mind. I usually consulted those
matters with my friend Alex. Although this consultation did not result in
tangible solutions, uttering the deepest concerns helped me clear things and
settle my mind. I was usually the talker and Alex usually the listener. As a
talker, I knew that I should be more careful in discussing things: I might only
see myself and exhaust Alex, whining and yearning empathy. Then that day, I
suddenly realized that Alex’s responses were shorter. He seemed to be
uninterested, and he even suspended some replies.
I
cut the conversation by saying good night, and I closed my laptop. I was
startled, not only because of Alex’s reactions but because of the question that
popped up in my head. Here’s the uncomfortable question: Should Alex always behave
as I expected? I could not answer. To be more exact, I was afraid to answer. This
question inevitably reminded me of my friend Hannah, and I could not stop myself
identifying me as her. As I considered Hannah as a quite tiresome one who
constantly craved attention from me, I felt dreadful when I found my own self
resembled her. I was afraid that if I was being perceived to Alex as I do
Hannah.
Honestly, I do
like Hannah. But I like her just to the range that we could share common
interest about literature and art, and she treats me nicely. I do not want to
listen to manga stuffs that she is crazy about but I hardly know about. I do
not want her to interrupt when I am talking with Diamantine. I do not want to
hear every detail of her nervous breakdown. I do not want her to pull my cheeks
and touch my arms and lean on my shoulders every time she sees me. She is
better when there are only two of us, but she gets severer in expressing her
affection when there are other people around. I am fully aware that if somebody
likes me more than I like him or her, I should be grateful for that. However, I
could not stand her constant desire for equal amount of attention and affection
from me. I am sorry but I do not perceive Hannah as close as she does.
The relationship
between Alex and me is of course quite different from Hannah and me. He likes
listening to what I say, and he is also usually talkative when we are having a
conversation. However, when I get into topics that he has not much to say, and
tries to lengthen the conversation, then his words gets terse. I know that I
also do not enjoy listening to the things that I really do not know about, but
I still want others to listen to what I am interested in. Since Alex has always
been a great listener, I wanted him to always be in that position. I ignored
that he is also busy doing his own work, and there are limits in his mind to
spare for others to intrude. I disliked the uncomfortable demands of Hannah, but
I myself was expecting something very similar from another who I like.
People often refuse
to stand in others’ position, or even try a little to become less
self-centered. Not looking back what they had done to others, people get hurt
when another does the same as they did to others. There are always limits to be
followed. Close relationship does not ensure privilege to intrude private boundaries
and define others as one wishes them to be. Though many forget or simply ignore
this rule as I did, it is evident and applies to everyone. (643 words)
