Category: Paper 1

Passage 1:
At a specific time, he found out that the pasture from his field had grown; it was like the field was filled with needles; the kid would play with all of his brothers; Alexander, Brandon, Lukas, Andrew, Coen, Silin, Michael, all the children of his father, who were playing and running, and that the sunny, and puffy sky allowed the soccer games to go on. A lake surrounded the field,

Passage 2:
A joyful kid, all in black and the air filled with mist, with long hair all across his head. A kid who plays all day, kicks the ball, helps dad stack hay, and at night he would pray; a kid who ran, stack, cheered, and sometimes jeered; whose eyes sparkled every time he saw a ball as he played in the field running with the wind.

Passage 1:

At such a time I found out for certain, that this static white place was my math classroom; and that little man, my math teacher, and also the board, blank and bleak; and that Jackson, Derek, Kaelin, and Viji, the students of the aforesaid, were also blank and bleak; and that the boundless amount of worksheets, intersected with questions and worries and nonsense, those arms up in the air, that never got answered; and that the bizarre equation, was a integral; and that the scribbles on the board, was a formula; and that the smell of sweat growing from all of it and beginning to doubt, was I. 

Passage 2:

A woman with calm blue eyes, and with messy blonde hair, and with a heavy bag hiding her height. A woman who had been overwhelmed with responsibilities, and exploited for her efforts, and flooded with assignments, and confused by equations, and absorbing knowledge quietly, and struggling with her father; who questioned, and cried, and fought and laughed; and whose voice echoed throughout my halls.

Passage 1

At that moment I realized, that this dark, grey bleak place was School, and that my motivation, dissipating day by day, and the excitement of learning every day have disappeared and vanished; and that fun, joy, tranquility, anticipation, and the appetite for being in a classroom with others, has now vanished; and that long stretched calming drive through the mountains and forest beyond the school grounds; interwoven with the stoic presence of nature and the buzzing of the city filled with people; and the low lying feeling of stress, was the most recent homework assignment lingering over the top of my head; and the small slowly growing weight on my shoulders begins to become overwhelming, I am crying.

Passage 2

A cheerful man, all in corduroy, with a massive Kane by his side. A man with no negative bones, and broken shoes, and with an old, tattered scarf wrapped around his neck. A man who has been gifted Cole for Christmas and covered in flower, burned by stoves, stung by bees, and fallen off ladders; who limps, and complains, and howls, and growls; and whose head only consists of two hairs precisely combed over to the right side of his head.

1. At such a time I finally realized that I was in a room with two complete strangers talking about life and stuff I usually never talked about, in another country far from where I’m from, both guys also from different origin countries, as if we were teleported in the blink of an eye and didn’t even notice that and just went along with that, the sound of the rain and the people laughing in their rooms makes it much more comfortable and as if that was my home, and even if I don’t know both of the strangers I sill find it so comfortable being here that is something surrealistic, but in the end, I figured something out, and that is that one of the guys, is me.

 

2. A Guitar player with a saxophone in his hands. A pianist with a guitar in her hands, with broken strings and a guitar pick. A drum player, with a cello on his hands, with wood rotten from moisture, a soundboard without a face, a neck without paint and a fretboard split in half. A violinist playing a piano with no strings, no keys, a top hat, a bad mustache, and a broken will.

Passage 1

At such a time, I knew for certain that the tombstones in front of me would continue to haunt me and remind me of death; and my mother repeatedly asking if I was okay, and my grandmother’s wrinkled face staring at the pile of dirt being dumped on his grave, and my cousins walking towards the grass were scared and nervous at that moment conversing with each other through darting eyes; and the sounds of cries and sadness in the air, the rain pouring down aggressively, being aware of every drop that landed, on my face; and the crisp air hitting my face, was the wind, and that even with everyone there, the feeling of sadness, was everywhere.

 

Passage 2

A sad girl, dealing with loss, grief within her. A girl with a blue hijab, a big smile, having so much love to share. A girl who drowns in thought, and wishes to be someone great, and be loved by more, and to help everyone around, and hopeful for better days who screamed, and sang, and prayed; and whose tears flowed gently down her cheeks as her past memories rushed back in.

 

Pastiche 1:
At such a time, I remembered, I remembered a young woman surrounded by a scent that permeated her room; the memories of loss, bottomless emotion filled the air which she inhaled through the smell receptors on her face, the smell brought back memories of the loss she had gone through, her life’s evolution, the effects it had on her once pure soul; now rotting from the inside out, one could only imagine her childhood; how she used to speak with such a soft tongue, how she loved to perform in front of other; this feeling is one which most never experience, but this reminder remained deeply embedded in her mind; as she tried to regain her memories, I realised that girl was me.

Pastiche 2:
A tall, lifeless figure, once known as the life of the party slowly began to slip away. Slowly, you could begin to see the life leave its eyes, feelings ceasing to exist, love losing its effects on its once kind heart. Many ponder as to who this figure might be, where it is from. For those who do not know, it is the demon in your dreams, the monster waiting to wreak havoc inside your mind, this monster is none other than depression deeply buried inside.

Passage 1:

At such a time I found out for certain, that this cluttered place filled with thoughts was in fact my mind; and that Tranquility, my calm emotion, and also Reason, my rational emotion, were depleted and struggling; and that Vibrancy, Confidence, Security, and Decisiveness, sister emotions of the aforesaid, were also depleted and struggling; and that the long endless passageways of my mind, intersected with hopes and dreams and fears, with scattered memories floating around it, was the subconscious state; and that the distant compartment from which the emotions were flowing, was my conscience; and that the big bundle of compassion growing sad from it all and beginning to console my mind, was Love.

Passage 2:

A weary woman, all dressed for winter, with a heavy backpack on her shoulders. A woman with headphones, and with Converse shoes, and with a crystal necklace tied round her neck. A woman who had been lost in novels, and swarmed in essays, and crushed by coursework, and hidden by timidness, and allured by artwork, and puzzled by attraction; who wrote, and worried, and watched and wondered; and whose mind wandered in her head as she sat in my classroom.

Passage 1: Once upon a time, somewhere filled with hexagons in plain grayscale as far as eyes can see, stand Dennis Kim, who once promoted π, and the greatness of circle, now discover the truth, his heart now broken, and filled with regret, with his mouth open wide, come to the realization that “Hexagon are the bestagons”.

Passage 2: A emotionless young man, all in plain dark grey colour, with messy black hair covering his forehead, and ears. A young man, with his black near sight glasses, with a old black table. A young man who is obsessed into the world of anime, who eyes, and hands are flawlessly in sync with those circle in the computer screen, who never learn

Passage 1:

. . . At such a time I found out for certain, that this lovely aroma overcoming my nose was from this little restaurant rested along the street; and that Pablo Garcia, my good old pal, and also Sam Sung from elementary, were rested inside; and that Dwight, Pam, Jim, Kevin, and Michael, all my fellow co-workers, were also somehow fitted within this puny restaurant; and that deeper in beyond the customers, there were little to no chefs, with only a few stoves, polished counters, and a small portion of food rested neatly just behind the counter, and that feeding on this aroma inducing food, was the chefs; and that the countertop separating the customers and the chefs, was the strongest; and that the space where the heartless people eating the food rested held a fan from which the aroma was spreading, was the dirtiest; and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid of it all and beginning to cry, was me.

Passage 2:

A broken child, covered in red, with a knife held to his wrist. A child with no parents, and with torn clothes, and with a messy length of hair covering his beautiful eyes. A child who had been left alone, and covered in scars, and kicked, and drowned, and looked at as nothing; who sat still, and smiled, and turned cold; and whose eyes left still revealed a single tear as I stood there watching.

 

 

 

 

PASSAGE 1: 

At that point I realized that this small machine unkept with trash was my car; and that Phillip Pirrip, my father, and Georgiana, my beloved mother, had kicked me out; and that the comfortable, peaceful, compacted, ordinary, spotless, room that I had once lived in, had kicked me out; and that the rural environment near my car, intersected with animals and dirt roads and fence gates, with peaceful farmers driving through it, was where I was living; and that the bright city lights beyond the horizon was my old home; and that the distant place from which the sirens were ringing, was the city; and that the calm, carefree, content human living in the trashed car and singing softly, was me. 

 

PASSAGE 2: 

A bold man, all in Vanta black, with a sleek silver pistol on his hip. A man with a black hat, and with black shoes, and with a mask around his face. A man who had been thrown in a car, and tied in the car, and driven by strangers, and punched by strangers, and cut by knives, and shocked by tasers; who cried, and shivered, and shouted, and whimpered; and whose eyes distressed in his head looked up as he got knocked out again by the strangers.  

Passage 1:

At such a time I found out for certain, that this little room with bad air ventilation was indeed my dorm, and that Freya Feng, whose name starts with two “Fs,” and also Cecilia Chen, whose name starts with two “Cs,” were eating and talking; and that Korean fried chicken, stir fried udon, spicy ramen, wonton, and bubble tea, with extra tapioca and fresh taro, were to be delivered and eaten, and that the spicy instant ramen in the pot, mixed with seaweed and sesame seeds and cheese, with hot steam defusing from it, was only their snack; and that the opened pack of Cheetos, was their previous snack, and that the mixed solution of Diet Coke and Diet Pepsi, was used as a mouthwash; and that the person who witnessed this compulsive feast but said nothing to stop it, was me.

Passage 2:

A short man, all in surgical uniform, with square glasses on his face. A man with greasy hair, and with unusually expensive socks, and with a superstitious Chinese charm hung on his neck. A man who had been scolded by his wife, and cheated by his colleagues, and boasted in his achievements, and talked only of science, and collected stamps, and embarrassed his daughter; who smoked, and drank, and slept, and sobered; and whose belly grew in size as he kept attending stupid banquets with other middle-aged men.

Passage 1:

About the time I was fully informed, this run-down setting, with overgrown brush was the graveyard and; Philip Pirrip, the name of this memorial park, and who was father of those listed below, were alive and unburied; and that Joy, Pain, Happiness, Sadness, and Anger, all the emotions I felt when I believed they were dead and gone; were the dark flat lies that hide in and beyond the human soul, intwined in emotions of love and ecstasy and greed, with dispersed feelings of resentment towards life; the human heart; and that above it, a horrible setting that was to be discovered, was the brain; and that the faint breathing you heard, that emulates the movement of wind, was the horrible energy; the energy that keeps you alive, and ‘creates’ emotions that may or may not be real, was spirit.

Passage 2:

A Cheerful man, all in bright red, with a great beard attached to his face. A woman with a bright smile, and with two big boots, and long hair that covered her head. An elf who had been soaked in snow, squashed by hooves, and cut by antlers, pushed by humans, and rewarded with presents; who snarled, hobbled, delivered, and grumbled and; whose body shivered in the sleigh as the man barked out orders.

 

Passage 1: Throughout the years I’ve been at this school, Brookes Westshore, is not my home; and my dad Miguel, living at home, and also my mom Adriana, were in Mexico are missed by me; and that Luisa, Rodrigo and Diego, my best friends back home, were also are missed by me; and that a combination of emotions comes and is intersected with home sickness, and the excitement to go home. That the light at the end of the tunnel, is the time when I get to go home; and that reason to be happy, when they receive me with a big hug, was the joy; and that cold feeling of sadness growing everyday, with that feeling of losing myself will come soon to an end.

Passage 2: A beautiful dancer, all in a beautiful costume, with great rhythm in her heart. A woman with no limits, and with grace in every step, and her hair moving around. A woman who had a big smile in her face, and showered with sparkles, and strehght to jump, turn, bend and stretch, with emotions flowing, and a message to transmit; who moved, and grooved, and danced, and who’s feet never stop as her mind was leting go all the feelings that cannot let her be herself.

A sad girl, dealing with loss, grief within her. A girl with a blue hijab and  big smile, having so much love to share. A girl who drowns in thought, and wishes to be someone great, and be loved by more, and to help everyone around, and hopeful for better days who screamed, and sang, and prayed; and whose tears flowed gently down her cheeks as her past memories rushed back in.

Passage 1

At such a time I found out for certain, that this cozy place surrounded by snow was our house; and that this old big man with the dark hair, harsh in his ways, and also the young athletic boy in a hoodie, were our coaches; and that Anni, Bent, Linn, Nooa, and Friedi, athletes of the aforesaid, were exhausted and tired; and that the high grey walls, intersected with trees and slopes and cottages, with tiny people moving on them, were the mountains; and that the blue calm surface beyond, was the lake; and that the frightening restless lane from which the noise was coming , was the highway; and that the small bundle watching it all from the side and feeling home, was me.

 

Passage 2

A small women, all in light grey, with her black hair in a ponytail. A women with boots, and a dress, and with a scarf around her neck. A women who had been laughed at in school, and appreciated in university, and admired by her friends, and hurt by her family, and helped by her teachers, and loved by her husband; who cried, and laughed, and studied, and improved; and whose mind got stronger as she found her place in life on her own.

Passage 1:
… That was the time when the truth was made clear, by the dark stars whose light reddened with Lord Eshan’s fury, and by the cathedral, once so opulent, and the monuments built in Her honour, which crumbled to dust; that Kasavionos, Varokira, Azanak, Tesiran, and Ganok, the ancient rulers of Eshara, were once more free to conquer; and that the western countries of Jahion and Cerrus, lands of rivers and mountains and deserts, would soon take up arms in preparation for a war; and that the northern land of Kanar would do the same; and that Eshan the Creator in her anger would not intercede; and that Simon, once named Edward Alder, stood at the center of it all, not knowing what to do.

Passage 2:
A regal man, in a long grey coat, with white streaks in his dark hair and beard. A man with dark eyes, and with a sharp nose, and with mechanical implants in his fingers. A man who had once been a lord, and once been wealthy, and once been respected, and once been powerful, and had once fought, and had once killed; who now watched and listened, and saw and heard; and who always waited in the shadows for his time to come again.

(NOTE: Both of these are derived from the events of a story I intend to write. The first describes the circumstances leading up to the finale, and the second a major antagonist)

Passage 1

 

For me, this was important for learning,

That with this sick face overthrown with guilt and charge,

Hoping that the fearful whip woud vanish, and Indiana would be free of the blood and the buried.

That Rudner should be in coleview with his grandma silvia lodger, yet no cousins as they were far and filled with lead.

So there we are, staring at the eternal darkness outside our backyard, covered by fences, traps and snakes,

Half of them having a rattle and pattern that resembled volcanic ashes

The finish line was long, with zero chance of obtaining the silver,

That no salvage gold could ever fulfill from the gushing years of training, shedding not one tear.

That we weren’t able to overcome the puddle of tears that was growing inside us all, to finally let it out with the smack of a single whip.

 

Passage 2

 

A cheerful women, leaving you in dismay,

Going for more rum in the keg,

A woman who hates rats,

Who loves rhythm n’ blues,

Charging gas to her mustang,

A woman who was cloaked by her father,

Bothered by others, called a sack of bones,

Always carrying mints, sometimes tints,

Cleaning kettles, yet stuck with liars;

Who tripped and dipped,

She shared with fair

That those people who scattered In the concert were riled up by jim

 

Passage 1

At this time I knew, that this merry place blanketed in snow was the mall; and that Santa, jolly in his ways, and also Buddy elf of Santa, were cozy and warm; and that Oliver, Emma, Harry, Thomas, and David, tots of the waiting parents, were giddy yet composed; and that the spectacular landscape beyond the scene, crossed with trees and bells and wreathes, with rowdy shoppers crowding through, was the gates; and that the red and white line beyond, was candy cane lane; and that the distant candy hut from which shouts of joy came, was Santa’s; and that the mound of Christmas joy taking in the season and beginning to smile, was me.

Passage 2

A jolly man, all in soft red, with a great sack on his shoulder. A man with a hat, and with black boots, and with a pipe in his mouth. A man who had been dusted in soot, and powdered by snow, and fattened by cookies, and bit by frost, and warmed by smoke, and framed by beard; who bounced, and laughed, and beamed, and smoked; and whose sleigh jingled as he flew through the night.

Passage 1: …At such time I knew for certain, that this place I called “home” was the pathway that led me into the heart of mine, and that me myself, for long abandoned this place, and also the feeling of being bored of my own origin so much, had been accepted and replaced with the happy, joy, gratitude, delight and peace, all now flow into me like a new first wind of a spring I dearly love so much; and that no matter how hard life is can seems to me, being mixed with the colors of sadness and despair, intertwined with the chaos, conflicts that will never stop, conflicts that I hardly understand, will always be there, and that whenever it all feel too much for me that I just want to stop for a moment to find a bit of peace, home is there; to welcome my little existence and no matter how much has happened, it’s there.

Passage 2: The train passed, with the slight city rain, there I sit with my own self. The cold air, with the lingering sadness, with some quick deep breaths, and with the blue that I have been so familiar with. The cold air which had been there for long, cleansing the air, and dirty the soils, and wet the hot roads, and wind follows, and cut through the busting city life, and bring life, and tear away our hearts; rain comes, and stop, and come, and stop; but is always there to welcome lonely soul who need a moment of tranquil in life.

Pastiche 1: At such a time i saw for certain, that this colourful place, overpopulated with children, was none other than the water park: and that parents payed bored on their sun beds; and that Brandon, Coen, Alex, and Adam, teenagers who were also bored from the long lines; and that colourful slide, which looked like a skyscraper, and full of water, were the water slides; and that dirty, smelly place, was the washrooms, and that distant, over priced place was the restaurant, and the short lonely stain on the park, who was terrified of the slides, was Cameron.

 

pastiche 2: A British man, in a slick suit, with an accent on his tongue. A man with no hat, and with shiny shoes, and a stylish haircut on his head. A man who had travelled the world, seen it all, learned many languages, and became a teacher; who walked, and talked, and wrote with chalk, and put on his glasses as he walked into my clsasroom and lectured us.

Passage 1

When I found out for certain that this bear concrete slab scattered with pitiful little trees was the courtyard; and that Eric MacKnight, peacefully reading, and also Shawn Jones teacher of the tenth grade, were in the classroom; and that Coen, Adam, Chantal and Alex, students of the aforesaid were also in the classroom; and that the dark, drab corridor beyond the classroom, met with doors and staircases packed with students mesmerized by their cellphones was the hallways; and that the great grey building afar was the dormitory; and that the raging rowdy lane from which the machines were screeching and blaring was the road; and that the bunch of energy in the middle of it all, was Brandon.

Passage 2

A fearless man, all dressed in black, with his eyes covered in shade. A man with a suit and with shades, and with perfectly polished shoes tied to his feet. A man who had been freshly bathed in water, and groomed by scissors, and pressed by an iron, and shaved by a blade; who marched, and smiled, and laughed and was styled; and whose eyes sparkled as he gleamed at me with a grin.

 

 

Passage 1

At a horrible time the young lion figured out for sure, that this deserted country taken over by drought, was his homeland; and that his lion father, death by hunger, and also lioness mother wife of his father, had starved and rotten; and that brother Peter, brother James, sister Hannah,  sister Cleopatra, and Leo, baby children of the names said before, also passed and rotten by hunger; and the grey dry climate beyond the miserable mood, woven with measly trees and rocks and hills, with delicate giraffes eating from them, was the riverbeds; and that thin line of rocks in the horizon, was our water source; and that the depleted reservoir afar from which the breeze was rustling, was his birthplace; and that the small lump in his heart began to grow from grief and a tear slid down the face, of the young lion.

Passage 2

A cheerful lake, all in dark blue, with a sheet of ice on its head. A lake with no boats, and no broken smiles, and a hockey net tied around the posts. A lake which had been melted all summer, and splashed around by children, and paddled in with paddleboards, swam in by fish, fished in by man, and drunken from by elk, and ripped apart by boats. Who rippled, and swelled, splashed, and roared; and whose water had been polluted throughout the year as the ice split in the middle swallowing a man.

Passage One:

At the time I didn’t realize it, but this yard was the churchyard now covered in nettles. As I looked over I then saw that Philip Pirrip had gone, and Georgiana’s wife had both passed away buried underground; then realized that Alexander, Bartholomew, Abraham, Tobis, Roger, and a small child had also perished and were buried. Looking overseeing the dark wilderness beyond the churchyard was the old marshes, looking farther down the line seen once was a river, where the wind was rushing from you could see a savage lair where the sea used to be, feeling shivers around your body and fear building up, tears starting to slowly fall, could only have been Pip. 

Passage Two:

A man who was a fearful looking man, who had metal in his legs, who had no hat, but broken shoes and a rag that was tied around his head. The man was drenched in water with mud covering from head to toe, with cuts that looked like they could be from flints, with stings by nettles from what I could see, with tires from briars. A man who limped and shaken from head to toe, glared and growled at, whose teeth chattered in his head as we pulled me forward with a sliver chain put on me to pull me along as he moved. 

It was that moment I knew for sure, that this dreary place bustling with adolescents was the campus; and that Jackson Jenkins in the missing of his assignments, and also energy of the day before, was late to class; and that his fellow classmates of years before, and to come, were also late to class; and that the grand beauteous jungle beyond the campus, mottled with bears and cougars and peacocks, with many beast’s residing in it, was the rainforest; and that the slow flow band below, was the creek; and that the obscured unchecked cauldron from which the storms are brewed, was the pelagic ocean; and that the sudden energy growing inside, was the excitement to leave.

 

An unhelpful creature, all in gleaming brown, with a minor matter in its leg. A creature with no collar and with broken teeth, and an old bandana tied round its neck. A creature who had been across lands, and over oceans,and through the rivers, and on top of the mountains, and between the roads, and along the valleys; who limped, and caressed, and barked, and chomped; and whose tongue slobbered my face as it took me down.

Passage 1

At such a time the boy found out for certain, that this space filling with people was an intersection where new roads met; and that Jacob was just the friend in his head, and Greg was never there and never real; and that the boy in my dreams, with the fancy shoes, and nice white T, did not exist, and never will, and that the black asphalt roads stretching on incessantly, weaving and winding, illuminated only by street lamps and stop lights, with cars of all shapes and sizes zooming and zipping on the black asphalt; and the storefronts flanking either side, and people busying themselves with wants and desires, walking to and fro without a thought for the young boy of only ten; looking up to the sky with his hands outstretched, he wished for a better life or a helping hand.

Passage 2

A frightened boy, missing the clothing to suit his torso, with nothing but hunks on his feet. A boy whose hair was mangled and knotted, and a face without a set of teeth, and a façade of 40, and the eyes of a boy of ten, and a crusty rag falling round his collar. A boy who had been tossed in rubbish, and bathed in the sun, and dozed on cement, and avoided by eyes, and looked down on by stilettos; a boy who hunched, and baked, and pleaded, and groaned; and whose mind dreamt of a life without struggle as he raised his hands and asked for a penny.

Passage 1:

At a certain time, the woman was sure, her house was filled with flowers and bushes that were growing on the wall’s; and that the women, loving her happiness, and also her spouse, who were alive and living, and that their sons James, Mark, Jameson, Alexandra, Cassandra; all grown up and enjoying life and that their huge backyard would extend to the lake and that the closing gentle lair of pasture that with the gentle breeze was the lake; and next to it, in the woods, tramping and laughing, was the woman.

 

Passage 2:

A joyful woman, all in a blue dress, a smile everyone wanted to possess. A woman with a big hat, and with high heels, and with a scarf long as an eel. A woman who had been bathed in gold, and who was very bold, her feelings were not cold, whose house was made of stone, her name to everyone was known; a women who ran, and tramp, and laughed, and rhymed, whose hair has long and moved with the wind as the flowers touched her skin.