English Dork

I've been reading alot of students' essays on the problems of the modern age. You see, it is season when the seniors are taking exams to prove their proficiency in English. If you can remember when we had to do these things, you might remember topics, cheesy topics.....on the problems of the world. Global warming, moral degeneration, gender biases, science vs. nature, etc.

I was asked to provide 3 sample essay answers in regards to each of these topics. I hadn't been forced to write on a specific topic in quite awhile, so I took the challenge quite seriously. I thought deeply about how public transportation has affected me in my nowaday life, and how gender biases affect our children. I relished the ordering of my responses, and answering the questions exactly how they were asked, while planning my points as if they were a strategy for war.

This assignment summoned the English major dork in me, which reminded me of one of my favorite pastimes, debate.

I thought about how I've abandoned argumentative writing, and instead behaving much like a bee, fleeting from topic to topic without any sense of cohersion. These days, I have begun to substitute literature analysis with the poop that has always annoyed my loved ones.

No longer having an audience for essays about character analysis or author motivation has led me back to breaking down the motives and desires of those around me and attempting to expose it for all that I theorize it to be.

I wonder if this is the cause of why I mentally regard (not retard) those I meet as characters of fiction rather than friends and acquaintances. Tonight I realized that I must cease my incessant curiousity of the inner limelight that glows within the people I meet.


Instead, I should just rely on their outward projection of what they want me to believe them to be. Because that's all anyone will ever admit to me or anyone else. There's no inside to people that don't admit to an inside. And maybe I am not qualified to quantify those elements of people with my own beliefs.

I am not a soothsayer. I have no idea at all.
Despite what I give birth to, I haven't the slightest clue to who any of you really are......

What was I talking about again? Being an English nerd? Missing real writing?

Hey look, there's a pretty flower!