Essay on Why I Am A Kid

783 Words Sep 4th, 2015 4 Pages
A s a kid, I would always get anxious and worry or get excited about the littlest things. I mean, I was just a weird kid. I remember at one point in sixth grade where I would just get excited for P.E. not because I got to work out, but because I had just practiced so hard to remember how to open my damn gym locker, when to turn it clockwise, counterclockwise, and I was just that excited to put my masterful skills to the test. Of course this particular I memory I have in mind was when I was eight years old. I was watching one of those generic police procedurals on TV, maybe C.S.I., Law & Order, or something and at this point they showed the victim of a murder. This rotting, emaciated corpse with skin and texture about as brown and rough as the dirt he was dug out from. The way the bottom half of his jaw was just dangling from the rest of the skull like an opened stapler as the officer tilted the head to investigate further. That emotionless look in his eyes that became the focus of the camera shot, peering into me - the viewer, moving closer and closer. It was something I could never forget. And I just freaked out. It wasn’t the actual, physical corpse that scared me. No. It was what it represented: The concept of death. “Am I really going to end up like that guy one day?” “Is this what death is?”
Now, I was not raised in a very spiritual household. My parents were Buddhists but they never discussed religion in depth with me so at this point I had absolutely no knowledge or…

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