Copenhagen

 The Traveling Man

I see a man riding home to his family way back in the Medieval days. He rides on his majestic horse, Dale, through low grassy valleys and up high snow-capped mountains. He enters a dark twisted forest and is surprised by a psychotic bandit baring a short sword. The man’s horse is scared and runs off while throwing the man off its back and onto the dirt path. The man draws his long steel sword, and with a swipe and a slash the bandit lays on the ground split in two; the life pouring out of his body as the man walks away. The man camps night after grueling night in the large forest. After months of trekking along the trail, he makes it to an exotic town during a white Christmas. The man stays a few nights an inn down by a creek in this town. He purchases a new black horse and rides to his home so far out of sight not even the eagles could see it. A few months of traveling, hunting, and camping, the man meets an experienced child known as “the hunter”, he hunts people. The child draws an arrow from his quiver and pulls it back on his bow aimed at the man. The man, on horseback, brings out is much used bow and draws an arrow back flinging it in the direction of the child and strikes him dead on. The man rests a few miles down the path knowing he is near home. He wakes in the morning, before the rooster crows, and races to his home and family, the castle of New Simberg. This man is a knight and a prince. He walks in the great hall of the castle to a welcome home celebration. They party and have a feast until the night had fallen the next day and the rest in their beds, knowing they are safe and happy once more.

 Shwhoa

Life is like a song, it has a beginning and an end. My name is Ninja Salad, and I have been a music incorporated person since day one. I have always loved the sounds of music, especially classical. I am a football fanatic even though I am good at many other sports. Music prepares me for games and without it I would not know how to start of strong. Cooking is also something I love to do. Mostly, I like to make pancakes for my family and friends and while I cook I listen to music; thus, music is included in my everyday life. media type="youtube" key="DTTxtneonq8?fs=1" height="385" width="480" It was an early Saturday morning. It was my first football game as a quarterback, and I was getting pumped listening to War by Sick Puppies. I towered over everyone out of both teams, I had the fastest forty time in the league, and I had the cuts of an NFL superstar, yet I was nervous. It was the opening kick off, and the war had begun. Our returner was tackled on our ten yard line. The coach told me the play, QB Boot, and I was to the huddle. I gave my team the play, broke the huddle, said the cadence, and I went flying. I faked the hand off, hide the ball, and darted like a soldier running for cover. I lowered my shoulders and broke two tackles, it was green for as far as I could see. When I got to their twenty yard line, someone, number 44, blindsided me. My body went flying end over end, sideways, and end up on the soft, green, still-dew-covered grass. The pain felt like I had gotten shot by a combat shotgun in the side. I jumped up in an adrenaline rush and went for a second go. That is when I knew I loved football. I think this song represents this moment because football is like a war, you try and try to hit the other team and win the game. The war never ends until the buzzer blows. media type="youtube" key="eDU0CTDMk2g?fs=1" height="385" width="480" My friends, Waldo, Willis, and Katherine, and I were hanging out at my house on a cool May day. We were agonizingly hungry, and we could not decide between Subway and pizza. I had made the split second decision to make something new, pancakes. I fired up my antique, silver oven and whipped up some pancake batter. After ten minutes or so, the pan was hot enough to start frying some fluffy cakes. The batter poured smoothly into the pan and started to brown as it touched. I was a natural! When they were done, we ate them like starving children eating rice. Katherine said they were the best that ever touched her tongue, and yes we all like pancakes. Do You Like Waffles is a good representation of this time because it was the start of my love for making all breakfast foods, it was also played many times through out that day. media type="youtube" key="AlXDo5WhQXI?fs=1" height="385" width="640" Two days before school started, and I had the highlight of all football practices, two-a-days. The smell of fresh cut grass filled the air. It was near 100 degrees and the sweat cascading down my helmet and chest proved it. We had been training for the past three months in the weight room, but this was harder than all those lifting sessions combined. I had thrown the ol’ pigskin at the same 14 receivers at least 1,000 times and got yelled at about as many times. I could not seem to be enthusiastic about the grueling pain and screaming ring in my ears from all the criticism, let alone being tired. That’s when the coaches announced mental toughness drills, the drills from the pits of the Earth. I had a minute at each drill without a break in between, but I felt dead by the second one. I was happy by the end knowing I was one of the few who did not up chuck my lunch and pride, but I had one left. Luckily it was a separated time and I did not have any hard drills. Boys of Fall really shows this moment because when you try your hardest and give your all to something, you get the best results. Our freshman squad gave our all and we ended up with one of the best records for a freshman team in our school’s history. Music has an important role in my life. It has helped me express and let go of some of my emotions. These times in my life were key points of what changed me to who I am today, and songs seem to show how I felt during these times more than I can explain. I think of these moments as songs; they were what started who I am now, and like a song and my life, this essay has an end.

"You must walk alone to find your soul," means that you are not yourself if you follow someone elses footsteps. If you want to express yourself and feelings, you have have to make your own decisionsand make them with no regrets. This is true because you can not be an individual if you are trying to be or please someone else. A soul is what makes you a unique person and reflects what kind of person you are. Your soul is like a road map to your inner self. I that if you are not trying to be yourself, you are a zebra pack with everyone else, everyone looks the same. Your soul is a black hole that sucks up everything that is accepted through you.

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