Marches To The Beat of My Own Drummer (Compositions)

Hello!  We were asked in our Comm Skills II to write essays about ourselves and this is what I have produced. To those who know how I write, well you'll figure out the emotions behind this work. Public information to the closure I am finally having. I like sharing my pen's worth even though I'm not a pro writer. (03.18.2014)

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MARCHES TO THE BEAT OF HER OWN DRUMMER (Descriptive)

Her eyeglasses don’t completely define her, there’s more beyond that.  Ever since she had those eye-opener situations, she wasted no time in laying out her plight without any fluff. She’s a girl who has no illusions about her state of randomness. Rei knows that even though she's on a battlefield that keeps her faith being tested, she'll still keep the luster of her spear and never be your typical crybaby teenager. She's also not sitting around feeling sorry for herself. She doesn't talk about her family problems in lurid, self-pitying detail at all; instead, she tackles it with a healthy dose of humor.

Rei marches to the beat of her own drummer. There’s a little world she has where her predicaments, madness and even her devil-may-care attitude and all exist. She even made her parents think that she’s not seizing life by the horns due to the perils and downs she’d been through. Basically, she just fears bleak of loss and hurt, again.

The timid and dry humored girl before is all grown up and being molded by bitter-sweet things, yet she manages to enjoy the ride. As a self-driven and strong willed accountant in the making, she gives her parents all the pride she can give as an academically bright student since her kindergarten days. Behind her nerdy look, a dynamic, confident, outspoken and inquisitive gal is bumming in her shadow. Holing up a true friendship is not on her plate. She may not be strong enough to be her friends’ sword, yet she can still be their protective shield. She’s firm regarding her convictions, and as much as possible, she don’t want her principles and passions to be compromised.

There are a lot expectations on her that makes her grip tight and still. Yet, she’s still a teenager who wants to hip the max, bum around with her friends, have quality time with her books, feel the stomach-churning madness of love, and let herself swooned of her being hopeless romantic. Others may think she’s just her; well that ‘just’ thing makes her one of a kind to the people who loves her- being in her uniqueness, flaws and all.

PAINFUL STITCHED LESIONS (Narrative)

I just stopped knocking the wall, expecting it to be a door that would let me in. I stopped letting tears pool and streak. I stopped showing my pain-filled eyes. I stopped walking in the dark alley. I stopped and started, all because of a man.

As the doctor gently dabs the swab with the antiseptic at my wound, I just inhaled heavily and decry the pain tormenting me, instead of helplessly voicing a sudden loud cry and uttering that man’s name. The swift and merciless violence in my heart move stealthily as the nurse picked up the needle and suture, wholly knowing that I’ll be ill with a stitched lesion – which is just out of that man’s care. 

Memories came gushing in every time I had accidental glimpse at the dusty, earthy smelling piles of photo albums in my old rugged cupboard. Rush of memories which I hoped didn’t crop up at any chance always assail me. Him holding me on his knees as a little girl- like a delicate and priceless doll. Him feeding me breakfast while I blissfully prepped my sandwich board, and driving me to school letting me hum even if I’m out of tune. Then as I carefully divert my view, the pulsating anger crackled with hatred and resentment I feel towards that man immediately washed away the reminiscence.