Descriptive Essay About Personality

1.Descriptive Essay Nothing But Personality It was my first day at the school, I got into the building where I was going to live. My eyes searched carefully from the door of one bedroom to that of another for my name which ought to have been pasted on the door of one of these bedrooms. At last I found it. On stepping into the bedroom I found there was already a student who was making her bed, She was thin, short and black–skinned. Her hair looked like a bundle of straw. Her dirty clothes and lusterless eyes clearly indicated that she had a long journey. Her clothes were made of cheap cloth. Her coat was too short, and the legs of her trousers were too loose. She wore a pair of unfashionable rubber shoes. And all her looks made me feel that she did not look like a smart girl. "A yokel," I concluded. The second she spoke, her accent told me that she was from the south. "May I help you get your luggage from the office?" 
I did not decline her help because I really needed it. She was quick in movement. She walked out of the room and was soon far ahead of me in the corridor. "A nice girl," I said to myself. "I will make friends with her." I hurried and caught up with her. Sometimes outlook does not mean anything about personality.

2.Original Poem I Hear The War I hear the rapid crackle of automatic gunfire in the darkness. It breaks the silent, and the cold mist. As a lion is hunting a

All I can do is follow along behind her like a well–trained puppy. "Here, try these on." She slides the crimson, velvet curtain of a changing room open and hangs the dresses on a rack tucked inside, and pushes me inside before closing the curtain behind me. "I'll be right here if you need me." I stand, awestruck before the many–coloured dresses. Gingerly, I reach out to caress the fabrics with my fingertips. Each dress has a soft touch, even the silk ones. After admiring the clothes, I select a simple, turquoise, crepe dress with squared shoulders that cuts in close at the waist. As I stand before the mirror, I hold it against myself and gasp in horror. It will conceal my chest, but will leave the entire length of my legs bare. With the slightest movement, my panties will be on display. I can't possibly wear this, not only because of my scars but my dignity. In repulsion, I slam the dress back onto therack and select the next one, a black, leather dress that appears extremely tight. Oh yes, I'm sure the corset style bodice will hold everything in place, including my ribcage. "Oh gosh," I say aloud as I hold the dress against myself. The plunging neckline leads down to my belly button. The dress joins its associate in the rejection section of the rack.

"Is everything all right?" asks Elodie. "Not exactly."

She yanks the curtain open, causing me to abandon my dismay upon the repulsive clothing and focus it upon her. Vexation materialises on her face as she stares at me, then at the clothes on the rack. "What's wrong? Why haven't you have tried anything on?"

"You can't seriously expect me to wear any of this, can you?"

Her irritated glare penetrates me. "What's wrong with this?" She retrieves a vulgar, ebony, boob–tube made of silk that leaves nothing to the imagination.

My jaw drops as revulsion saturates my self–worth. As I stare at the monstrosity, invisible bands tighten around my chest, my brow creases as I struggle to breathe. With no words, I peep around Elodie, towards Alice, hopeful for her to witness the desperation in my face and jump in to rescue me. It doesn't take long for my Saviour to liberate me.

"Um, Elodie?" She taps her on the shoulder.

Elodie twirls on her heel, the dress still in her

No matter how hard life gets for me and how chaotic things can become there has always been one person that I can turn to, my mom. She's been a wealth of advice to call on when I'm clueless and a shoulder to cry on when I'm down. Her compassion for others inspires me to be a better person as does the guidance she has given me over the years. She's not afraid to give me a reality check and to tell me the things I don't want to hear even though I need to. She keeps me grounded and teaches me to appreciate the smaller things in life. Even though my dad was still involved in my life after my parents split up it was my mother who I primarily lived with and it was her who had the greatest influence on my life growing up. Anyone who has known my...show more content...

Heaven help you if you do anything to endanger her family. My mom also does not go soft on her kids; she can be a formidable disciplinarian when she wants to and will not hesitate to set us straight when we broke the rules. She won't let anybody walk over her and is really quick to anger if you try. My mother is strong–willed and stubborn; when she sets her mind to something almost nothing will stop her and what an impossible feat it is to change her mind on something. She is very impatient; when she wants something done she wants it done at this very moment, no later. She is idealistic and she enjoys the simpler things that life has to offer. She loves nature and would love nothing more than to be living in a cabin in the mountains while listening to country music. She does not pay much attention to news happening outside her local area and prefers to focus on what's happening in her immediate area. From my mother I have learned how to be the person that I am today. Through her I have learned the importance of family and that it is paramount to spend time with them while I still have it. Even now I try to spend time with my family when I have the opportunity to. Form her I have learned compassion for those around me and for animals. Even

Get more content

My mom's name is Lisa and she was a PTA but is now a stay at home mom. My dad's name is Luis and he was a chemical and nuclear engineer, but now owns his own business. I have 3 sisters: Angie, Silencia, and Mahalia. I also have 3 brothers: Matthias, Geminiah, and Elshaddai. Angie works with my dad to eventually take over the family business. The rest of my siblings are in school except for Elshaddai who is only 3. My family expects me to be a good example to my younger siblings and encourage them. To do this they also expect me to do well in school and in athletics. My mom is a very outgoing, loud, and energetic person. My dad is also very outgoing and loud, but he has more of a serious side to him. Angie is really fun, but she also has a more relaxed personality. Mahalia is very loud, active, and argumentative. Silencia is the most soft–spoken and relaxed out of everyone. Matthias is very outgoing, loud, and active. Geminiah and Elshaddai are both loud and very active. I have good relationships with everyone in my family. I do have small disagreements with my siblings sometimes, but we all love each other a lot. I had a very unusual childhood, but it was still fun. My childhood was unusual because it involved a lot of training but that's what we did together as a family, and growing up I had friends that did the same thing and we all enjoyed it. In grade school I competed in a lot of powerlifting meets and got to travel all over the country to break world records. I missed

Generalized anxiety is a disorder in which a person has normally tense, uneasy, and feels very on edge more often than not. I have always had a bit on anxiety with being near and/or around people, I have never felt completely comfortable around anyone and often feel uneasy and nervous about everything, but during my last year of middle school my anxiety got tremendously worse with the stress of school. During my 8th grade year I was going to a college prep academy that came with an incredible amount of stress for a thirteen–year–old. As the school year went on I would get more and more homework and assignments. On average, I would come home with about four hours of homework that would be due the next day, eventually the stress and overwhelming amount of work became hard to handle and I started becoming more and more worrisome and uncomfortable in public. As the school year went on I just became extremely nervous and uncomfortable about everything, scared to move in front of people, scared to get up and sharpen a pencil, my hands were more often than not sweaty and gross feeling which just made me even more nervous because what if for some reason someone would need to touch my hand. I felt uncomfortable around friends that I had known and gone to school with for years. I eventually stopped going out at all and just stayed home, I wouldn't go out to eat with my parents nor would I go out with friends or anything. I started becoming very secluded from everyone. Eventually my Get

Filled with excitement and joy I began to fill my suitcase, overloading with clothing that I most likely will not wear. A I finish my exaggerated packing I heard a thumping sound of knocks at the front door. I hurriedly squish everything and make my way to the door only to be greeted by Ely's joyful expression. Once we manage to pack our things in the trunk we head off to the airport. Once at the airport were greeted with our growling tummies ready to devour. We have fifteen minutes before our flight leaves, we quickly rush and get in line to the subway station. When ordering I could see all the available sets of nutritional vegetables. The scent of sweet coffee filled my nostrils from the Starbucks station next to the subway. Once are meals our set we quickly stuff our hungry faces and hear a loud announcement that our flight was to depart in 10 minutes. When seated I tried to manage my tangles hair and off we were to our vacation in Honduras. Once, we reached the end of our flight we were met with the difficulty of finding our bags, once we did we excitedly made our way to the exit. As soon as we stepped outside the scent of good cooked meted melted in our minds. Immediately our attention zoomed into the busy streets overcrowding with people. It was midday around one in the afternoon, the weather was gracious, solemn breeze swept my hair back. First thing we do is head off to the nearest restaurant in our reach. Lavishing the cultural dishes my Get

There is always that one person that you have that knows all of your secrets, shares all of your jokes, listens to all of your gossip and is simply someone you can call your best friend. I live with that person, or at least I used to. Her name is Allison, my sister and my best friend. Looking back at every single memory I have, she is there in some form or fashion. She is there holding my hand my first day of preschool, wearing the same jean jacket as I because our mom loved it when we matched. She is there on the basketball court with me during my very first game, helping calm my nerves and stop my shaking. She is there holding me while I cry over my first heartbreak, reassuring me that things will get better. Even after she graduated, leaving me in high school alone, she is still there. She is at every game cheering me on from the stands and is always willing to help me with things such as homework or listen to my constant rants about teachers.

I remember waking up every morning at 6:45 to the horrible shrill of country music blaring in the bathroom that we shared, as Allison got ready for the day ahead. Now, the bathroom is quiet because she is no longer there. She shares a different bathroom with a different person who now gets the rude awakening every morning that I would die to have back. She emptied her dresser, cleaned off her desk and took down all her pictures a few months ago, August 12th to be exact. The best day of her life was the worst day of mine, her

Alone. My emotions all pertained to this word – : being neglected because I was different from others. My prickly exterior caused people to overlook me. And my friends, let's just say I didn't have any. I never had an intention to hurt anyone, but this was who I was and the reason for my loneliness. As days, months, even years passed, people ignored the true beauty in me. I was constantly left sitting alone in the cold, damp corner with no one to interact with. This was my fate. My life was basically forlorn. I was going to be alone, forever. It wasn't until a sunny, summer day when hope came in the form of hands picking me up from the dark place I was sitting. It was the first time someone examined me! This boy, my new owner, had passion gleaming from his eyes: he was waiting for this moment to pick me up and take me home. But why me? Why after all this waiting has someone finally chose me? After all, there were plenty of other plants at the store. Why a cactus? As he carried me back to his house I began to worry. What if I was ignored and placed in the corner like at the store? There was a maelstrom of conflicts and apprehensions inside me, but as we entered his home, it was empty. I was his firstplant! Being the first plant in a house was a privilege, and it was unbelievable that a plant as insignificant as me was given this privilege. My owner's hospitality was endless: I was constantly fed water when thirsty, fed fertilize r when hungry, and given enough sunlight when cold to grow. It was like he could read my mind and gavegive me whatever I wanted, whenever I needed it. The feeling of loneliness was fading away, and I felt as if I finally had someone who cared about me. Rather than judging my current deamor like the rest of the customers, my owner saw my inner beauty, thus, forming an unbreakable bond between us. Being a cactus made it hard for me to fit in with other plants, yet after all the time I spent with my owner–or should I say caretaker– I felt that everything was going to be fine, that was until... My caretaker began to gain a passion for other plants, and when summer arrived there came a different plant every month ranging from trending tropical to durable desert plants. His home was Get more content

My Cozy Home A home is a place where you have lived with your family for so long that it has, in a sense, become a part of you. It can be a structure, a neighborhood, a state or a country. In my case, when I think of home, I initially think of a building, my house. My home, however, is much more than just a house to me. It is also the place where I am always sure to find those I love most, my family. In a generation where there are so many broken homes, I am fortunate to live with and be raised by two parents, who still love each other. I have two older sisters, Sabreena and Trinity, and a dog, a poodle named Puffs. I live in a quaint, four bedroom house in a subdivision called Steeplechase in Avondale, Louisiana. My house is a place of safety and refuge. My neighborhood is full of friendly, familiar faces. I have been smiling, waiving and occasionally talking to these friends and acquaintances since we moved here when I was just two years old. Growing up in this environment has, I'm sure, contributed to certain character and personality traits, which have made me who I am today. I am ultimately a trusting individual, who is both friendly and hospitable. You can learn much about a person simply by walking through their home. For example, if you walk through my house, you would instantly notice framed Bible verses, decorative crosses, inspirational sayings and a trophy case, filled with different types of past accomplishments. In our living room, there is a

Get more content