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autobiography writing

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Autobiography Writing A Memorable Place I got off the double-decker bus with my family as crowds of people scampered down the stairs, following us, heading towards the newly opened Chinese restaurant. The restaurant was extremely intimidating but yet friendly from the outside. Two ferocious lion statues, one on either side of the front door glowed proudly in the moonlight. Tap, tap, tap, our footsteps stamped against the concrete floor. We stepped inside and I felt my feet pushing down against the soft, plush carpet. It was bright red and that made me feel like a celebrity walking down the red carpet. The restaurant was well decorated. It was original just like a normal Chinese restaurant but it was effective. The red carpet mixed brilliantly with the chalets hung on the ceiling and the four giant carvings of golden Chinese dragons, which filled all four corners of the room. I sat down with my family on the only empty table left. ...read more.


When I was younger, I did not see my dad on weekdays. He had to work from 1pm till 12am on Tuesday to Sunday at his take-away. It was a long, arduous job and I knew that, so I tried to do my best to be with him on Mondays. It was his only day off but since he is such a groovy dad, he always took me to fishing. Fishing and spending precious time with my dad is the greatest combination ever. It is his desired hobby and I, as his son must follow in his footsteps. My dad knew so much about fishing, I think my dad is a fish. After fishing, my dad smells just like a fish. I don't like the smell but whenever there's a "fishy" smell, it reminds me of him. Apart from that, my dad is nothing incomparable but in my eye, he is a hardworking, clever, sweet, lovable, respectable good dad. Not just that, he is a great husband and an exceptional family man. ...read more.


After my last goodbye, it was time to leave. It was the last time I left my driveway. It was time for a whole new journey for a brand new adventure. However, this was not the end. Before I went to the docks, I visited Dublin City. I was a last experience or a last memory perhaps. But it was the very last time that I felt the old Irish pavement at my feet. I knew all pavements are the same but for me it was special, because a lot of emotions were involved. The drive to the docks was long and hard. To cap a bad day, I was early and it gave me long enough time to go through and recap my memories. I thought for ages and my head was going to explode like a bomb until I could get on the ferry. I smelt the diesel from the ferry, as I got closer to it. The smell meant the end, the finish, the climax or Doomsday has arrived. It also meant the start of life in a different country. HH Jason Choi ...read more.

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