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I believe I should be awarded the scholarship because…
I strongly believe I should be awarded the scholarship because…
I strongly believe scholarships should be awarded to…
I strongly believe scholarships should be awarded to those who…
I have been cracking my head for the pass 3 days to construct something out of 1600 characters that could convince members of Warwick Business School to award me a scholarship that (if successful) would make my dad hop around in glee for a week or two.
This is the 3rd piece of composition that I had to make as far as application to universities is concern, and I am growing less and less fond of it. The reason for this is definitely obvious to those who know me, or rather, my essays. Facts and biography have always been my soft spot. Reading about those has never failed to put me in a state of lethargy. And now to write one, let’s just say it makes me try to put off the job for as long as I could.
NO! I am not procrastinating. Definitely NOT! Just giving myself time to come up with a neat one. The deadline is the end of next month. Or is it this month? Well, never mind. I will certainly come up with something tomorrow, you know, when the creative juice starts flowing in my head. It’s just… writer’s block. That’s right.
Anyway, I paced around my house to find something solid enough to pound my head, when I eyes gazed upon, my bicycle. I hopped on the bic, determined to cycle away the extra inches formed due to inactivity, throwing the application essay to the back of my mind.
In the midst of the third round around my house, I saw a young girl squatting on the sidewalk, staring poignantly at the ground and screaming, “help, help!” at the same time. Initially I thought it was just kids fooling around, so I cycled away. It’s not until I passed by another 2 times noticing that she’s still there that I finally stopped.
“It’s dying…” She stuttered.
“What’s dying?”
“The bird.”
“How do you know?”
“It fell of the tree. The nest is broken.”
“Where is it?”
“Neh…” She pointed at the small bird on the ground. “There’s another one under the wooden door there.”
With the paper box (made by my grandma), I picked up the birds (it’s hard because the birds kept flapping their wings and pecking me, but I couldn’t hold them tighter in case I squash them) and laid them in. The girl nodded as we told her to let the birds go once they have grown up, and hopped home, lovingly stroking her new found pets.
Abandoning my goal to cycle 30 rounds, I went home. After dinner, I resumed my place in front of my computer.
I strongly believe scholarships should be awarded to…
Arghhhhhh. This is frustrating!
I strongly believe I should be awarded the scholarship because…
I strongly believe scholarships should be awarded to…
I strongly believe scholarships should be awarded to those who…
I have been cracking my head for the pass 3 days to construct something out of 1600 characters that could convince members of Warwick Business School to award me a scholarship that (if successful) would make my dad hop around in glee for a week or two.
This is the 3rd piece of composition that I had to make as far as application to universities is concern, and I am growing less and less fond of it. The reason for this is definitely obvious to those who know me, or rather, my essays. Facts and biography have always been my soft spot. Reading about those has never failed to put me in a state of lethargy. And now to write one, let’s just say it makes me try to put off the job for as long as I could.
NO! I am not procrastinating. Definitely NOT! Just giving myself time to come up with a neat one. The deadline is the end of next month. Or is it this month? Well, never mind. I will certainly come up with something tomorrow, you know, when the creative juice starts flowing in my head. It’s just… writer’s block. That’s right.
Anyway, I paced around my house to find something solid enough to pound my head, when I eyes gazed upon, my bicycle. I hopped on the bic, determined to cycle away the extra inches formed due to inactivity, throwing the application essay to the back of my mind.
In the midst of the third round around my house, I saw a young girl squatting on the sidewalk, staring poignantly at the ground and screaming, “help, help!” at the same time. Initially I thought it was just kids fooling around, so I cycled away. It’s not until I passed by another 2 times noticing that she’s still there that I finally stopped.
“It’s dying…” She stuttered.
“What’s dying?”
“The bird.”
“How do you know?”
“It fell of the tree. The nest is broken.”
“Where is it?”
“Neh…” She pointed at the small bird on the ground. “There’s another one under the wooden door there.”
I looked at the poor creatures. They kept opening their beaks and shivering. At this point, my mum and brother also stopped by. I picked up the remains of what look like twigs from the nest and tried twisting it back to shape on the tree where it had fallen. The twigs twisted and snapped, refusing to be put back into the original shape. I groaned in frustration. (I really should sit down and watch how birds build their nest. They have only one beak and I have two hands!)
The girl squealed, “What to do? If I have a basket I would have brought the birds home, but…”
Whoa, this girl really has a kind heart. My mum said, “wait here, I get a container for you.”
With the paper box (made by my grandma), I picked up the birds (it’s hard because the birds kept flapping their wings and pecking me, but I couldn’t hold them tighter in case I squash them) and laid them in. The girl nodded as we told her to let the birds go once they have grown up, and hopped home, lovingly stroking her new found pets.Abandoning my goal to cycle 30 rounds, I went home. After dinner, I resumed my place in front of my computer.
I strongly believe scholarships should be awarded to…
Arghhhhhh. This is frustrating!
