Descriptive writing- 7 ages of man. It was 1922. The year I was born in North Korea. I was the eldest son of a family of seven. The town that I lived in didnt have a very positive ambience.

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Descriptive Coursework – 7 Ages of Man

It was 1922. The year I was born in North Korea. I was the eldest son of a family of seven. The town that I lived in didn’t have a very positive ambience. It was too quiet; deathly quiet, deathly still. In my childhood, the silence really did make me feel bored every day. My wish back then was just to play hide-and-seek with my friends out in the streets. My parents didn’t allow me to do so. Thus, living through each day was like watching paint dry, with nothing to do.

Of course, from a toddler’s eyes, I didn’t really ask why I wasn’t allowed to play outside. I didn’t really ask why I had to always stay beside my parents. I didn’t really ask why the town was this quiet. But the truth came with time. I was twelve, when I had realized that this place was the result of oppression from the ruler of this country. Indeed, in the town of my naissance, no one dared to lampoon the tyrant of the country in public, too scared to be caught by one of the several hundreds of soldiers constantly patrolling every corner of the streets with their rifles.

Back then in North Korea, the rich and the poor were like the North and the South poles, a pair that could never be united. The majority of the people could barely manage proper meals to eat. The richer people, however, were utterly, disgustingly wealthy. They could afford to blow their nose with five-thousand-dollar-notes, and play chess with gold pieces. Most of the prosperous and the privileged, therefore, were pompous; no surprise. But my father, also an affluent man, was different. “Whenever you feel like looking down on someone,” he told me, “just remember that not everyone has had the opportunities like we have had”. My father was the land that one could see through a brutal storm on the water, holding hopeful, steadfast and true. He had always been my inspiration.

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As I entered my school years, there was uproar within the country. My family and I decided to move south and follow the crowd, leaving everything we had behind, to where the calamity and the political unrest had not yet begun. In the South we were in the hope of finding a great beginning to our new life, to get away from the prejudiced society.

Unfortunately, this new beginning did not come as easily as I had expected. The third stage of my life – the years of the Lover – therefore was not a very memory one. Even ...

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