I have to write a description essay for school, we've been doing a different kind each week, and I wanted you'r guys' input. It's not the best, and it doesn't have a lot of discription but its' the best I can do. What I want is helpful crituque please?


Snow fell the day we buried Billy. Lightly it cascaded from the smoky, cloud-filled sky and landed softly on my bare shoulders. Rays of sun shone through the clouds and burnt my ashen skin, reminding me that it was still summer. I wish the snow remembered. Because it forgot, I was standing on a white ground; thick; with cold trickling into my tennis shoes causing my toes to go numb. Shifting from one foot to the other gradually brought feeling back to my toes. It returned with slight spikes of pain shooting through them; like being stabbed with a hot knife. I winced and shifted faster until they were almost back to normal, then stopped.

Casually I raised my eyes; full of tears threatening to spill through my lashes blackened with thickly applied mascara, and swept them through the mass of bodies attending the funeral. People were snuggled together, arms encircling each others waists, huddled under an umbrella, trying to erect a barrier between them and the oncoming cold. Whether the cold was the external or internal, I wasn’t sure. I had my own cold to deal with.

Cold coiled in my belly, slowly seeping through me extinguishing hope, love, warmth, and any semblance of companionship. Cold leaked into my brain, turning it to a mush that was unrecognizable as my own, and caused me to part from reality. Straining against the shock that was overtaking me I mentally screamed. Loudly, abrasively, and my counter-attack scared the shock away. Cowering, it ran to the farthest corner of my mind and allowed me to think; which wasn’t much better.

Now every memory flowed through me like music does, enveloping me in the sweet sense of it. With the trace of a saddened, wistful smile stretching across my lips the tears I’d held back came crashing down. Steadily they flowed over my sun-burnt cheeks, exposing my pent-up pain. Memories of our time spent together crashed my system, invading my already-full mind. They collided with each other as they fought for dominance in my mind; each one lapsing over another, until they blended together to form one extensive memory.

Hesitantly I wrapped my arms around myself, hands resting on my shoulders; clutching bare skin that broke underneath my fingernails. I had no one to comfort or hold me, only myself. The thought broke me, but only for a second, for it was outweighed by the pain of my loss. Silent sobs shook my shoulders as I tried to hold them in. A tiny sound escaped, which I muffled with my hand so that no-one noticed. Timidly I lifted my tear-stained face and looked around; everyone was too involved with their own grief to hear mine.

One thought broke through my haze of memories clear as crystal. Only it wasn’t sweet, it was harsh, bitter, unrelenting, and frigid. Billy was dead. My memories were nothing anymore. They were nothing but a way to remember him; his smile, his laugh, his eyes – the way they sparkled with genuine naïveté even though he knew much more than myself.

As my mind cleared I realized the ceremony had ended. People were walking away leaving nothing but footprints in the freshly-fallen snow, Billy’s casket had been lowered, and dirt was being thrown back onto the earth- into the hole that was filled with his body. Grudgingly, dragging my heavy feet I walked to Billy’s grave. No-one was around now so it was all right. Hesitantly I peered over the edge, expecting a feeling of release- of knowing he was gone, of letting go. But, nothing came.

Slowly I backed away, shaking my head, damning the fact that I would feel like this forever. That I would feel as if my insides had been ripped from my body in a violent slash of anger happening suddenly and unexpectedly; just as his death had been. I kept walking away, barley able to put one foot in front of the other, stumbling on the packed snow. I kept walking away, leaving nothing but footprints in the freshly-fallen snow.

You just wrote a poem, not an essay. Beautiful, nonetheless.

Angelroze, here is a hint: Find newspaper columnists--that is, ones who grab your attention--who write interesting and controversial topics. Then take note of how they use punctuations, especially the splashy dash, --. Also, one-word sentences, used sparingly, can be interesting. Agreed?

I have learned a lot about writing just by studying how interesting writers write.
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Edit of your opening sentence:
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Believe it or not, even though it was not yet late fall, snow fell the day we buried Billy--about whom I'll tell more, later. Lightly, the snow cascaded from the smoky, cloud-filled sky and landed, softly, on my bare shoulders.

Questions: Who was Billy, to you? What time of year was the funeral?

Since I got so much help and interest in this essay -- that was sarcasm in case it wasn't caught -- I decided I would let everyone know the grade I got on the essay.

I gota 100% but thanx for the input anyway -- I used it -- and I got a 100%.

Wonderful news! You are on your way... Count on the support of all your virtual friends, here. When you said, "I used it" I presume you are referring to the advice about studying the methods used by interesting writers, right?

Lots and lots of agape...good-will, or love, power.

Smart advice, Lindsay.
I'm long out of school, but I can find a lot of uses for this approach!

Tell us your "story", and why you made the comment you just did. Because of my interest in what I call the "pneumatological factor" I, for one, am all ears, and eyes .

ABOUT WHAT IT MEANS TO BE PNEUMATOLOGICAL
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BTW, I realize that "pneumatological", unlike "psychological", is not a commonly-used term.

"Psychological". As I understand it, it has to do with the instinctually-controlled animal mind, which, regardless of its behaviour, is sin and guilt free.

"Pneumatological". On the other hand, it has to do with the mind and body as being in conscious control of the human spirit. It is about the human mind as spirit--the human mind as being conscious and morally aware of itself. If you know that you are you; that you are not me and that you choose to treat yourself and me, lovingly, you are a moral and ethical human being. It is all about deeds, not creeds.

While 'pneuma', 'pneumatics' and 'pneumatology' are found in World Book Dictionary, 'pneumatological' is not. I did find it in one very old Webster's Dictionary.

NEW CONCEPTS AND IDEAS ARE NOT EASY TO GET ACROSS
As 'pneumatological' speaks of our human nature, or our spiritual nature--as distinct from our animal nature--I feel it is an important term.

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS ABOUT THE ANIMAL KINGDOM
Have you seen THE MARCH OF THE PENGUINS?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/March_of_the_Penguins
http://wip.warnerbros.com/marchofthepenguins/
There are similar stories about aligators in the Amazon and oistriches in Africa. There are stories about salmon, whales, eels, and even monarch butterflys.
All pose the question: What drives animal creatures to live, procreate and die the way that they?

The short answer is, instinct.

Scientists, who study animal and insect behaviour, tell us that such creatures have no conscious choice in the matter. It appears that they are, by powerful animal instincts, programmed to do what they have to do. They have no conscious choice in the matter. In the process, the fittest will survive to produce a better adapted model of the species for the next generation, or they will die in the effort.

ARE HUMAN BEINGS AND ANIMAL BEINGS ONE AND THE SAME?
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However, we human beings seem to differ from our fellow animal beings. While we, too, have animal instincts, we seem to have the power to ask ourselves: Why am I doing this? If I were just an animal, would I ask myself this question?

DO ANIMAL BEINGS COUNSEL WITH ONE ANOTHER"
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By the way, over the decades I have done--and I still do--a lot of counseling. I always ask clients: Tell me, How do you feel, physically, mentally and spiritually?

In getting to know a client I always begin by asking myself--later I will include the client--:

1.What per cent of this person's pain and suffering is strictly physical--that is, somatic--in nature?
2. What per cent is mental and emotional--that is, psychosomatic--in nature? And,
3. What per cent is self-imposed--that is, pneumasomatic--in nature?

IMO, WE ARE, BY AND LARGE, A COMPLEX COMBINATION OF SOMA, PSYCHE, PNEUMA
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BTW, I usually got the most successful outcomes with clients who were willing to include themselves as part of the healing team. When somatic solutions were needed, I was, and am, always ready to accept the counsel of wise medical doctors.

BEWARE OF THE POWER OF GUILT, FEAR, ANXIETY AND DREAD
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Self-imposed guilt and regret regarding the past, fear of the present, and dread and anxiety of the future, for example, can drive people into being addicted in any number ways.

I am sure that, more often than not, the things which drive us to become addicted, whether it be to nicotine, alcohol, food, whatever--all leading to bad health, including obesity--are rooted in the psyche/pneuma--filled with the things which are eating us--rather than just in the soma (the stomach), filled with the things we are eating.