autobiography writing

Jason Choi

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. The restaurant had a great atmosphere, people were shouting and laughing happily with joy. For some reason, I shared that same enthusiasm when I heard them laugh.

We ordered our food quickly because I was really hungry. There was a sharp pain in my stomach due the hungriness. It was beating. There was a drummer inside me.

But soon, the pain was over as the food arrived on our tables. It was a lovely smell, the thought of it filled me with pleasure. It was as sweet as honey and the smell of heaven. It mesmerised me. Words could not describe it. Only one word could and that is incomparable.

I picked up the chopsticks and started to eat the sweet and sour chicken. It was ...

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We ordered our food quickly because I was really hungry. There was a sharp pain in my stomach due the hungriness. It was beating. There was a drummer inside me.

I picked up the chopsticks and started to eat the sweet and sour chicken. It was delicious. It was as enjoyable as the smell. It was heaven. The smell and taste alone, gave me the best experience that I’ve ever had.

Autobiography Writing A Special Person

My dad is the best. He is only 5 feet 8 inches but he is someone I look up to like an idol. He has brown eyes, short black hair, which is turning grey over the last few years. His lips are pink and medium-sized just like mine. He has minute ears with dangling earlobes and an extra tiny hole at the top of his right ear. That hole runs through the males of our family and I, proudly have one in my ear. Despite being diminutive, my dad has large fists like a boxer.

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. He helps my mum with everything, from cooking to ironing.

I really like my dad and I truly respect him in all ways. He is an inspiration for all dads and I doubt anyone could match him. My dad is the perfect dad.

Autobiography Writing A Significant Event

5 December 2003 was one day I will never ever forget. All emotions went through my head on that particular day. I was moving abroad, from Rep of Ireland to England. I could clearly what happened.

The delivery lorry drove up the road as the last box of ornaments was packed up. My house empty, it was not a pleasant sight. My neighbour down the road was moving into my precious house. I sensed the end was near as I heard their reversing. Beep, beep like a rocket blasting off, it went into my drive.

From my drive, I could see my huge front garden, which consisted of many plants and crops in which my parents grew in their ten years living in this house. The view from my garden was amazing. It was slanted so I could see the seaside and the sea. It was a spectacular scenery that I will probably never see again. It was also one reason that I missed my home an awful lot.

I walked down the road and said my goodbyes to my friends. It was the hardest thing that I ever did. My whole world went dark at that moment. Leaving everything behind was hell. It left me with a disgusting bitter taste. 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.