Interesting Pieces of Writing about my life

When I grew up, we didn’t have to worry about putting food on the counter. However we weren’t necessarily well off either. We rarely went out on vacations and our extra spending had a limit. It got better the more I got older, but I could still remember the poor condition of our housing. During the winter, the heater was broken and run-down and caused the house to be a winter fortress. For summer, we had an old air conditioner that emitted smelly lukewarm air . The paint was dried up and shriveled. The roof was stretching itself to hold together. One rainy day, it was raining very badly and the roof actually collapsed under the pressure. Luckily, only the attic was ruined. The sidewalk outside was a century old and the grass surrounding our lawn was overgrown with weeds and dandelions. It was even dangerous to be outside after 9pm in our neighborhood. A pattern of burglaries and home invasions filled the news every week. My mom once told me that when I grow up, I can go to school and graduate, and get a job where I can buy a good house for me and my family. 

Luckily though, I didn’t have to wait until graduation for us to move out. My dad got a shiny new job in a shiny new city; we were able to go to a shiny new house. The house wasn’t too grand, but it was nice and cozy. The sidewalks were recently renovated and the lawn trimmed to perfection. While our heater still wasn’t working, our air conditioner gave crisp cool breaths of relieving air. The paint of our new house was freshly painted and our roof freshly renewed. Our neighborhood was much safer and school was much closer. 

Although moving to a new city and home was much safer and nicer; I missed the old perks of my old home. The friends I left behind;the swing out back near the tree; and the nice neighbors that were very supportive. In the end, I believe that moving neighborhoods was a good thing for me and my family.

My mom has always strived to get me to be perfect and her attempts have increased in the past years. My dad has often told my mom that perfection is not obtainable and that I should just strive to try my best. The famous French philosopher, Rene Descartes, had a thesis on what perfection was. He believed that nothing in nature was perfect and was in a constant state of decay. Despite the fact that nothing is perfect in nature, humans are able to conceptualize it. Thus, Descartes argues that perfection is god and that we are aware of it even though we have never seen it for ourselves. In modern times, people tend to agree with Descartes that perfection doesn’t exist in real nature. Due to the more secularized times, they get rid of god in the equation and simply call perfection as blasphemy and simply something fake and made up.

However, doesn’t perfection exist because it is something that we have created? Just because it is limited in simply existing in our thought processes does not mean it doesn’t exist. Dreaming and having dreams about accomplishing goals isn’t something that technically exists physically. But spiritually, dreams can exist inside our souls and mind. Dreams can change an entire person’s mindset or personality. If someone has dreams about perfection or perfecting something, does that mean their hopes to improve are instantly null and void because they’re aiming for perfection? Not exactly. Perfection is something that technically does not exist in the real world and it is something that we have made up. Perfection is something that is an idea, a will, and a perseverance that shows the passion that someone has in their ideas, talents, or ability;Perfection is a driving force that is supposed to never be reachable. Perfection is an unattainable goal; forever ahead of us. Perfection is something that exists and it exists solely to motivate us and to drive us up further hills. It’s to have us keep going even after we accomplish our goals and dreams. It makes us strive forward to make advancements we never knew we were ever able to achieve. To conclude, perfection does exist and is a real thing. It embodies everything and nothing at the same time. Perfection isn’t something people have to strive for; it’s something that will conclude the end of a story. Perfection will never be reached thus the story will go on.The manifestation of your dreams, hope, and legacy is perfection. Truly perfection can be something that can exist. It exists in your soul and mind. Perfection doesn’t exist physically or in the exterior, but is incorporated into your story saga. So, my question to you is: Does perfection truly not exist and is it really made up by a thought of mind or is it something much deeper than you think?

When growing up, my mom could barely speak English. She learned enough to pass the tests to enter the U.S. but nothing more. As I got older, it became more and more apparent that she couldn´t articulate English very well. Whenever my dad is out for work, she has to answer the door if any random people come. There were plenty of people knocking on our door with advertisements or petitions. Oftenly she would wave them off by either shooing them away or saying ¨No Speak English¨ and ¨Owner No Here¨. Later on, she developed the phrase: ¨Don´t care¨. Usually this was reserved for less formal petitions or advertisers. The Mailman often had a welcome reception; she would say ¨Thank you¨ or ¨Have a good day¨. Very few times however, did she actually understand what was being said. Most of our visitors were family friends or cousins and could speak Vietnamese. She would have an easy time being able to converse with them.

When I was older, I would go shopping with my mom more often. When out shopping, my mom would usually make me translate for her. I would be rather bad at translating and communicating my mom’s thoughts was rather a large difficulty. Easy ingredients/products like milk or rice I wouldn’t mess up. I would however mess up pork bellies for beef tongues or sweet potatoes into fried potatoes. 

My mom also has trouble texting and would either use google translate, the dictionary, or unreliably call on me to translate her messages into English. Texting for mom often comes under heavy scrutiny as my mom would tend to check the dictionary or google translate to check my work afterwards.I once asked her why she couldn’t just be using translators from the start instead of asking me; she simply retorted, ¨Too much work¨. When I tried to explain this was just extra work for both of us, she shooed me off and said ¨Do not care¨. I tend to never ask her again about how she wants her translating to be done. 

In the end, while this deficit in understanding English vernacular makes things harder for my mom, others, and me, it isn’t something I would attempt to change. While I would no doubt help her learn if that is what she wants, this is something that is a big way to describe my mom. She is stubborn in the way that she doesn´t want to learn and I will respect her decision. It’s a way for her to never forget the homeland she was born in and this  only helps reinforce her Vietnamese speaking skills. Speaking Vietnamese is part of her identity and culture; and I would rather have the language barrier than my mom losing a part of her soul.

While I fully advocate and appreciate the form of procrastination, I realize that procrastination at a basic level is rather unproductive and negative in benefit. Why I procrastinate does not involve the benefits of procrastination at all. Rather I use the positive effects of procrastination to justify me procrastinating. My guide to procrastination was simply an endless list of ways to procrastinate. It was a way for me to tell the world that procrastination wasn’t that bad.

Procrastination was something I picked up back in elementary school. I had an older cousin who graduated school with a 4.0+ gpa with a white graduation gown. He had a notoriously bad habit of procrastinating every single thing he did. At the time, my parents didn’t know that. Seeing how my cousin had graduated, my parents informed me to look at what he did and to follow his footsteps to make good habits. Being in elementary, I didn’t know the difference between a bad habit and a good habit. That same week, I got a homework assignment from my teacher. I decided to try out my older cousin´s habit. Usually what I would do was finish my homework when I immediately went home. However this time, I watched ¨Wild Kratts¨ instead of doing my homework. I waited until 5:00pm to start my homework (it was late for me at the time as my bedtime was at 7:00pm). As I got older, my bedtime got later and later; I started my homework later and later. When teachers gave multi-day assignments, I started days late and sometimes even the day before it was due or even the due it was due.

When I got my graded assignment back, I realized I had the same score I had from when I did it early. I decided that I would love to continue to procrastinate as I was able to do all the stuff I loved first before doing the stuff I found was boring. It took only one assignment for this dreaded habit to enshare me into its trap. Ever since then, I have been procrastinating on practically all of my assignments. Even as I am writing this, I realized that I have been procrastinating the entire time through practically my entire school career. 

When I was a young, I believed that growing-up was an adventure. I believed that it meant being able to do what I wanted and how I wanted to do it. That meant having the ability to do whatever you wanted and to get away with it. Now as I grow older, I realize that it is much more than a simple adventure. To me, growing up is being mature enough to handle the responsibilities handed to me. Growing up meant understanding your mistakes and being able to improve from them. Growing up meant being able to solve your own problems without anybody having your back. I have yet to grow up. I still complain a lot and have trouble brainstorming solutions to simple problems. I judge people too early and care too much about how they judge me. I get fooled too easily and am too irresponsible. I had yet to accept that life is unpredictable and unfair. I still get off-task and watch YouTube rather than doing something productive instead. Still struggling to find my way out of the darkness. Despite this, I can find solace in friends and family. As I grow, I gain wisdom and mature. I still have a positive attitude and try to bring what I can to the table.  Even though the journey is long and winded, I believe that I am on the right path to growing up.

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