Abraham Lincoln Essay Research Paper Table of — страница 2

tears pour down my makeup perfected face as I scurry to my room, abrasively slam my door, and pour onto my bed as its strong arms embrace my trembling body. Suddenly the large worries that are strangling my life seem a far away world as I lie underneath my bed’s layers of clothing and its pillows surround me. My mind trails off…what actually is a bed? Is it only the central sleeping device, or does it go beyond that? I began to realize how much my bed and I depend on each other. What would I do without it? How would I live and what would be my escape goat for all my troubles? Friends, family, and people in general will never be continuously comforting, but a bed will. It is not only the center attraction to my room, but to my life. It comforts me, and in return I take good

care of it; my bed is my best friend. Not only is it the closest thing to me besides life itself, but has been with me through all my troubled, confusing, and wonderful times and has shared my experiences as well as I have. The day we moved into our new house, my bed was my first present and that started our sharing of my experiences. The tears I have shed during fights between parents and friends are now hidden inside my bed, the day I received my first kiss was ended lying in its layers of clothing as I selfishly drowned in my happiness. My 15th birthday, when I was able to get my learner’s license and finally form into a “true teenager” ended in my bed. Each of these experiences shape me into the person I am and will be, and my bed is the only thing that has shared each

one. When I need a place to go for all my needed comfort, my bed is there as it will always be. Why else would a bed’s make-up include a “comforter?” Because it is there for comfort! I can trust my bed with all my secrets and I am assured that it will never tell a soul. I owe nothing to my bed, for its arms are continuously welcoming me, never refusing me. It is the opening door to all me dreams. Dreams of my future, what I want to be when I “grow up”, what aspects I dwell on in life, are all thought while resting in my bed. Lying in it for a short period takes me to an unknown world, a place of comfort, peace, and rest. Its softness pillows and surrounds me. No harm will actually come into my bed, but floats underneath it, hiding in the night and disappearing into the

morning. As a child, the thought of monsters harming me at night always frightened me. I would always run as fast as my little feet would take me, and leap headfirst into my bed, afraid that the monsters were hiding underneath my bed and their outstretched arms would grab me. But by the morning, the monsters would be gone, only to return at the next nightfall. My bed is a place to run into, to let myself go free and to forget all my worries! When I cry, my bed cries with me, collecting my overflowing tears. When I am excited, my bed shares my laughter as my tears dry away. My bed is a best friend, always trustworthy, comforting, and welcoming. I love scenery, such as the sunny outdoors smothered with flowers and blue skies. My bed reflects what I love. Its first layers of sheets

are covered in multicolored variations of flowers. Its large comforter has stems of grass with flowers growing out of it. On the flowers are small ladybugs that add a sense of life. As a finishing touch, I have added large and small pillows in my favorite colors (orange, yellow, and pink), that complete my bed’s decor. The positivity of my bed relates to me and reflects my liking. Not only myself, but others may also enjoy my bed, just as others can enjoy me. I take good care of my bed by cleaning it often. Why shouldn’t I? For all that my bed offers me, I must give back something in return. My bed and I share each precious day. We begin our day together, as we both open our eyes together into the smiling morning. When I come home from school each day, I no-doubtfully get on

the phone and ramble on about my day onto the other line. I do this on my bed as it can share that particular day with me. I complete my homework on my bed, and whether or not I am studying algebra, chemistry, or English, its comfort helps me to focus and relax on whatever task I am performing. Whatever problem I have, stress I?m stressing, tear I cry, laughter I make, and dream I dream, my bed is always their to take me away. And I end my day with my bed, as we close our eyes together and dream away into the darkness of the silent night. Reader editorial: Jamie Herras, lawyer: Opinionated view. Racism, in definition, is the belief that humanity is divided into stratified genetically different socks called races; according to it?s adherent?s racial differences make one group