tumble.

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holy jesus.. press alt + reblog button :O wtf how did i not know this

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heartfeltlove-:

dianology:

digital-jamiee:

Silver Creek’s motto, YOLO… Omg, hahaha. Wikipedia you make me laugh

wow…

lollll

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quaintriddlecharlie:

What Dr. Seuss Books Were Really About // Chris Menning →

Dr. Seuss is my hero.

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Writing

Writing an essay isn’t as easy as it used to be.

Not that it was ever easy. But these days, it seems that getting my ideas on paper is getting more and more difficult. In the past, I could think for a bit, trust my stream of consciousness, and then bam! an essay, cohesive and fluid, a first draft that nicely encapsulated my ideas. But now the tides have changed. I sit (or recline, or walk around) for hours as I twist and turn the prompt around in my head. I give myself deadlines, threatening to restrict sleep, but nothing of worth appears. Either nothing, or something completely lacking in originality, passion, and substance. In either case, those hours are wasted.

Maybe it’s something distracting me. Football games on TV, my parents bickering, or other thoughts spinning around my head? I think not. I’ve written my best essays while sitting in a library or on a train, where distractions abound. So distractions aren’t the scapegoat. Rather, I attribute it to a shift in my mode of thinking and how I approach my essays.

For the past few months, there has been a slowly increasing consciousness of style in my writing. It’s something that had taken a backseat for the past eleven years, yet has exploded within the past few months. My personal statements are the root of this transformation. Those pesky college essays, unlike usual AP essays, are more personal—geared towards telling a story and maintaining the reader’s interest more than anything. So, as I went through draft after draft of personal statements, I began to pay increasing attention to style, varying sentence endings, rhetorical techniques, and vocabulary. I began to vocalize my essays, composing them using sound waves rather than brain waves. The result? A gilded piece of work, beautiful (relatively speaking) on the outside, yet hollow inside. I’m afraid I lost my ability to outline and produce an organized piece of writing.

This evolution in my writing is quite worrisome. Just last week, sitting for a timed essay in AP Literature, I distinctly remember using 30 minutes to plan, a task that usually takes all of ten or fifteen minutes. My thinking process consisted of cycles of the following:

Angel: So, let’s talk about the progression of immortality as Marlow travels into Africa…
Devil: Progression of immorality? What about ‘decline in morality?’ How about if I use the word ‘metaphor’? It would sound nice….
Angel: As Marlow goes into Africa, he…
Devil: ‘Goes?’ Why not ‘sails upriver?’ There needs to be a parallel to the previous sentence! It doesn’t sound right! I need alliteration! I need chiasmuses! *cascade of literary terms ensues *
Angel: Stop! It’s been half an hour. We need to start writing.

You can imagine the results: a half-baked work that I’m not sure completely explains my point, an essay shrouded in confusion and devoid of any merit.

And it’s frustrating. I want to be able to write with a passion and get my ideas on paper intact without having them break up into itty bitty pieces because of a silly preoccupation with style. Yes, style is important, but it is secondary compared with the need to convey one’s thoughts in a cohesive manner. I want to return to those good old days when a first draft would come out organized and only lack style, something that could be easily remedied through edits. As I continue to work on the deluge of essays that is facing me, I beg of myself: can I stop thinking about style for once and focus on organization? Can I at least dump out my thoughts onto paper first?

I guess we’ll see.

goodvibesandgoodfood:

elvins-world:

Time, you clever.

Finished!

11 schools, 14 different essays, $860. 52-hour essay marathon.

Time to enjoy these next two days. :D

Scattered

After 10 hours of thinking about college essays, and having made no headway, my mind’s completely scattered. Two days left until these essays are due, and my mind’s spinning out of control. This, I swear, is the epitome of procrastination. Time to get something going these three hours before midnight.

The happiest people don’t have the best of everything. They just make the best of everything.