I wrote this piece in my English journal today, because Mondays are writing days. I thought I'd share it with you.
[Haven’t figured out a title yet]
Writing Day – September 21, 2009
I’m not really sure where this piece is going. Maybe it’ll go up, maybe down. Possibly to the left, possibly the right. Could it be that my writing will move mountains and build bridges? (Probably not; it’s just graphite and wood pulp.) Or maybe it’ll be boring, the most mind-boggling, tragic, terrible, monotonous, insanely stretched out piece of trash you’ll ever have the misfortune of experiencing. (Hopefully not; I’d like to think I didn’t waste my time.)
I think this piece should say a lot about my personality. No, no, that won’t work; that’d probably be boring, or at least clichéd. What if I talk about my social life? No, I wouldn’t suggest it. How about… my work life? What are you, 25?! You’re in high school, for goodness sake! Geez. Ok, ok… I got it! I can talk about roller coasters – everybody likes those! Yeah, but absolutely nobody likes reading about them. But - no exceptions! Humpf – you’re a more difficult internal opposing voice than I thought. I think I’m just going to continue writing without your input. But – my decision is final.
Ah, that’s better. Free from the restraints of my negative but still slightly comical internal voice, I can decide what this piece of writing should be about. But wait, I’ve already taken up a page and a half with my extravagant musings! I should instead busy myself with finding a rapid end to this piece. We wouldn’t want it to wander. Or ramble or rant. Or bore, drag on, continue relentlessly, or never stop. (Now wouldn’t that be an incredible waste of time.) No, I should stop it. Abruptly? Well, that might not satisfy the reader. What if I just inform you that then end is at the bottom of this page? Yes, I’ll just do that. Dear Reader: The end is at the bottom of this page. Thank you for reading; bye now!
The End
Monday, September 21, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Relaxation
It's 12:26 in the morning, and crickets (I'm guessing that's what they are) are chirping outside, accompanying the fan of my laptop as they lull me into this state of peace and tranquility. Maybe it's my book, A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah, that is the primary cause of my relaxtion.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
