I remember the fi rst time I wore a bra. I came home from school in the fifth grade， and my mom handed me a white cloth to put on beneath my shirt."You’re a big girl now，" she said， "You need to wear
I remember the fi rst time I wore a bra. I came home from school in the fifth grade， and my mom handed me a white cloth to put on beneath my shirt."You’re a big girl now，" she said， "You need to wear this." From that moment on， my life was forever changed.
That same year， I was taught that the sun would someday die， and I， feeling the pressure of the contraption① beneath my shirt， realized that my childhood， too， would eventually dissipate② just like the sun.
With every new bra， I cast away③ the former. Somewhere in the dark abyss④ of my closet， there is a heap of⑤ abandoned bras， tiny， wornout filaments⑥ that had once shone so brightly in their days of use， but had faded away⑦ into old， neglected remnants⑧of days long gone. They sit against a corner of the universe and gather dust like dead stars— without life， without luster⑨， without vigor⑩.
With every new bra， I felt the unmerciful hand of change push me further down a path with which I had no return. The bras no longer had the simplicity of the fi rst； they came equipped with more folds and stitches and frills and patterns that were designed to counteract the growing complexity of my responsibilities.
If every new bra meant the death of another star， then the adult world was nothing to me but a lifetime of darkness. I tried so hard not to kill any more stars， but my resistance was not enough， and I found myself adding layer after layer to the ever-increasing pile of bras. With this mindset， I prepared myself for the end， for the moment in which my entire universe would be engulfed by the black hole forming in my closet.
But I was saved.
I learned that life does not occur linearly， but in cycles： New stars can arise from the ashes of former ones， and the darkness of death is replenished by the light of birth. Thus， what is created is only a reinterpretation of the past in a form that is fitted for the present. In wearing a new bra， I was not casting away my old self but reorienting myself to accommodate to changing times.
Change， as overwhelming as it feels， is only natural—the pile of bras will only get bigger. Though it is hard to accept the existence of the bra in my life， I realize that I cannot live without it， for， as we grow older， things tend to droop more easily， and there is nothing more reliable than a bra to give us the inner support necessary to have a fi rm hold on life.
You couldn’t see how much ink it had. It might run dry after the fi rst few tentative① words or last just long enough to create a masterpiece② that would last forever. And of what would you write： Of
A friend of mine wanted to lose some weight. He tried everything. But nothing would work. Big belly①， small arms. "Why do you want to be skinnier？" I asked. "I don’t really know， it’s just better" he
I am a child with eyes， hands， a voice， a heart， and rights. I have the right to have enough food to eat and water to drink so that I can grow. I have the right to live under a roof， to be warm but
What sort of philosophers are we， who know absolutely nothing of the origin and destiny of cats？ —by Thoreau 1. Hemingway： Good night， my kitten A cat has absolute emotional honesty： human beings，
In old times， it was customary for Monks， who is traveling and seeking for lodge to stay， to engage①himself in dharma② combat with③ head monk at Zen monastery. If he won battle， then he could stay els
The bridge to Rikers Island is called the Bridge of Pain. You’re on this bus. You see the city behind you. And in front of you， you see nothing but① four walls. I was sent there for a year when I was
What I never understood in elementary school was why my dad would always tell me to go on the bus last. At first I believed he merely wanted me to be respectful to others by letting them go on fi rst.
I have recently said that the future of the human race is compromised by① the damage that we are doing to our small overcrowded planet and that we should think about exploring planets that may have th
Thank you for having me here today. This campaign① has been very educational and it will encourage more people to get educated， and to speak out on behalf of those who face discrimination②. For too lo
When I was fi ve years old， I played the role of the turtle①in a play organized by my older sister. I had one line at the end， when I beat the sleeping rabbit to the fi nish line： slow and steady② win
