<p>Im applying RD to Vassar, NYU, Sarah Lawrence College, Bard, Hampshire and Skidmore.</p>
<p>Vassar, NYU, Sarah Lawrence College are pretty much on top of my list (im not sure whether im going to apply early to Sarah Lawrence but its certainly a possibility)</p>
<p>My essay is either trite or taboo and i cant decide.
Can someone tell me if its too risky to send to any of these schools ?
or even if its good enough.</p>
<p>I'd really appreciate some input.</p>
<pre><code> Though ill-advised by my parents and counselors to choose a gay romance story as my topic of choice, I cannot discount what happened that night - a night that presented me with a newfound value in camaraderie and companionship; a night that marked my transition from a hopeless youth to an enlightened adolescent.
Days passed, time transcended space, and the subsequent ten days in Israel had been but a swirling blur of neon-clad clubs, smeared make-up, sweat, tight pants and DJ sets. Until one evening when the course of my life was completely altered. Until one evening, when I met a solider with a biblical name, and a bristly beard.
We danced for hours on end, flailing arms, legs and inhibitions about like madmen. Without an iota of energy left, we decided a change of scene was appropriate.
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<p>I have to leave for my base in a few hours He glumly explained.</p>
<pre><code> We strolled down the beach, somberly; understanding that our goodbye was imminent. We spoke for hours of roots, culture, politics, the difficulties of growing up with a Moroccan father and a shared love of Sega Genesis. We laid down on a rock embankment, surrounded by an incandescent infinity of blackness, as if we were the center of the universe. We stopped speaking. Euphoria was a loud enough presence itself to speak for the both of us.
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<p>It was at this point that I witnessed my first explosion in Israel. </p>
<p>There was an explosion. </p>
<pre><code> Inside my stomach, there was a rupture within a gland, maybe an organ; something that restrained all ecstasy, happiness and dare I say, love. He tore open the sutures that kept it intact. A weighty mixture of emotion coursed its way through veins and arteries, around the central nervous system, finding its way into the cranium, spreading its fever upon every lobe of my brain. My chest was exploding with a wide array of flora - orchids, azaleas, passionflowers, rapidly blossoming and feverishly cultivating in my heart.
What occurred to me on that night could not be explained by logic nor science. What I ultimately felt was a realization of self. I am capable of loving and being loved. I am human.
As we sat there in blissful ignorance, I became pensive, mulling over the fact that my life was beginning to manifest itself as a romantic comedy. It dawned on me that there is going to be a twist. There is going to be disappointment. There is going to be estrangement. Finally, there will be a climax, at which point the prospective couple must be physically separated.
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<p>I had to catch a plane in 12 hours.</p>
<pre><code> The sun began to rise from behind the ocean and so did his awareness of our impending departure. I know I have to leave but I cant. he muttered, maybe to himself. I cant bring myself to leave.
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<p>I had to catch a flight.</p>
<p>The flight back to my car accident, to college visits, to reality
To home. </p>
<pre><code> Only a few short hours later, I found myself meandering throughout the airport terminal, bemused and vulnerable, trying to distract myself with the sharp bouquets of European colognes, the decadence of luxuriant candies and the sight of costly sunglasses. Hopelessness was too overpowering of a sentiment to ignore. It took over all of my limbs, and it burned so terribly. I took refuge in the bathroom and cried.
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<p>My ten thousand
Ton feet
Are magnetically drawn;
My soul is
Captive
To a fruitful earth below.</p>
<p>Using all my will to haul
Them down the stale blue
Carpeted aisles.</p>
<p>I Hope</p>
<p>Impossibly
You will be waiting
Hiding
Around
Behind
Here or there</p>
<p>Nevertheless
I cannot move</p>
<p>My legs
Have broken</p>
<pre><code>I plopped my bags on the glossy wood floor and took a big whiff of the familiar rich, woody aroma of my home. Reality ensued. The Euphoria remained in Israel; a feeling once so present was now vapor.
And like a romantic comedy, we were torn apart at the climax at the height of our story. Only this time there was no solution, there was no heart-warming embrace, no trombones or cymbals crashing. Not even a single sappy love-song.
I was, and shall permanently remain lost in the plot.
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