If I ever have a writing assignment or write a good story, you can bet I'll put it here ( assuming I don't get bored of this, that is.) Also keep in mind that I may be a fifteen year old, but that doesn't mean you can't suggest things or tell me to improve things here or there! Don't be afraid you'll offend me!
It's the thing
A piece of my mind on formal essays
I don't really believe that formal essays are that essential anymore. Why should we be judged on this sort of thing now? One could be able to write just fine and still fail on a formal essay. Let's face it; writing while trying not to address anyone is hard (I know it is for me!). Even I can just barely squeak by! Also, I'm pretty darn sure that putting " Wrote fantastic formal essays" on a resume won't guarantee a job, either. No one is going to say " Wow, what an amazing essay writer!" and hire you right then and there, and chances are, you'll never write another essay again after school ( And it's beyond me if you do, but to each his own, right?)! Anyway, That's what I think.
R+J stuff
Romeo and Juliet can still totally be relevant to society today ( Unless you count getting married at thirteen to a fifteen, which is more or less illegal now?). I mean, there are plenty of times when parents think you're too young to marry ( a.k.a. All the time, no matter what.), and there are also families that are totally into the "fighting for power over the other" thing; just look at major companies and their competitors! What we don't see a lot of now is people getting married on the second meeting-up; usually people date for a while before choosing who to trust themselves to these days. Also, it kind of sounds like they're playing on the 'rebellious teenager' scheme because Juliet's parents dislike that Juliet prefers a member of the opposite family rather than Paris, and she goes against them by staging her death ( Wow, how over the top...!), which then leads to her eventual demise. Charming.
Anyway, that's it for me. Over, and out!
Anyway, that's it for me. Over, and out!
Shakespeare stuff again
Thou art my best belov'd and approv'd friend,
In this state we hath to safeguard.
In this state we hath to safeguard.
Of DEfinitely not Rhubarb and Jam
So we started REALLY reading Romeo and Juliet today, with me at the right now very minor role as Capulet. As crazy as it sounds, we watched stuff; whoa. First we watched a more.... gangsta version ( pardon my use of gangsta for all you 'ugh' people.) of R nd J, which sounded very, very awkward and full of holes regarding use of language. If you're going to make it more modern, don't make it sound like the cast time travelled from the 1500's and are attempting to fit in. Then there was the more fitting, older version that was actually in the right setting and used way more of the lines in the original play. Both of them were pretty boring though, not a big fan of stuff I can't understand or have been made to act out in the past ( I'm lookin' at you, sixth grade.).
cheese poem
I am your hand;
You are my keyboard.
I am your mouse;
You are my cord.
I am your dusty screen;
You are my clean wipes.
I am your relaxing rain;
You are my amusing book.
I am your caps
You are my shift
I am your sink
You are my stay-adrift
I am your song;
You are my delicate dance.
I am your comfortable home;
You are my take a chance.
You are my shift
I am your sink
You are my stay-adrift
I am your song;
You are my delicate dance.
I am your comfortable home;
You are my take a chance.
that story is on such a hiatus
Who cares? Is the Glass half empty or half philip? No one cares about that either.
this is what they DO care about, though:
this is what they DO care about, though:
Wow, a story?
The rain battered the cobblestones and roofs outside, soaking anything from laundry mistakenly left to dry earlier that evening to the dirt around the walkways. To people inside houses and without laundry to be done, however, this was a very soothing event. A young man, about 27, was one of these such people. Lounging around in his pleasantly comfortable armchair, he looked out the lone window next to his bookshelf, which was quite close to his recliner. His legs were crossed and he was relaxing with a book in front of him. Still, his eyes were focused on the window rather than the object of literature.
" Doesn't look like letting up soon, does it?" He mused. Of course, he actually quite enjoyed the rain when reading. If it hadn't just started out of nowhere, he'd probably be asleep by now. Turning his attention back to his book, he realized something.
He was getting rather hungry, for someone who's awake at 10 PM.
Carefully putting his bookmark into his collection of papers that was a book, he left for the kitchen. Arriving at his desired destination, he strolled over to the fridge. The man let out a disappointed groan as he opened the door and peered inside. " I've run out of fo~od..." He slapped his forehead. How could he be so absent-minded as to run out of provisions? He could have sworn he bought some last week...
He shrugged off his growling stomach and went back to the living room. His short, tousled black hair swished around a bit as he turned quite sharply on his right heel into the correct doorway. He slumped into his armchair once more. Picking up his almost forgotten book, he remembered what had happened before he put it down. Laughing at the wit of the main character in the paragraph he had just finished reading, he turned the page.
" Huh?" He uttered in confusion, " The page's blank." Flipping through the rest of them, he was all the more assured that all the pages were, more or less, blank. Strange, he thought as he closed it neatly, and got up to put it back on the shelf. He was considerably disappointed, as the novel was just getting to the good part. He was really looking forward to the unveiling of the culprit and the undoing of his crimes.
That's okay though, he thought to cheer himself up, I'll see it a lot in days to come. I don't need to read about it.
In truth, he was a detective in the making. He had recently solved his first case a week ago, and if the culprit hadn't left a copy of the 'suicide' note in his room's desk drawers, he never would have solved it, but he did. It was geniunely exhilarating experience, being up there, giving the long, drawn out 20 minute explanation on how the murderer executed the crime at hand. Of course, everyone was asleep by the time he finished, but he got his point across. The inspector told him to be more entertaining next time.
He was planning on bringing finger puppets to the next crime scene, but she had told him it was against her religion for him to do something so stupid. Who did she think she was? If he wanted to use them to explain what happened, he could! He even bought an extra set. Get with it, inspector, He thought as he brushed one of the female one's hair. Besides, she's an atheist. He wished he had thought of that comeback earlier.
Darn you, stairway wit. He'd have to tell her that one next time he saw her.
Before now, he was being kept awake by his book. However, seeing as that it was currently pointless to fight off sleep, he drowsily got up from his chair and made his way out of the room and into the main hallway. Shutting the door quietly behind him, the young man approached the stairwell that twisted and turned ever-so-elegantly up to the second floor. He was glad to have had this house bestowed upon him by his mother and father.
Up on the next floor, he turned towards where his room was situated. He selected the proper room, opened the door, and ran for the lone one-person bed in the right corner. Getting under the thin blankets, he fell into a deep, comfortable slumber the second his head hit the pillow.
On the other hand, while he was sleeping the night away, someone somewhere was plotting something most horrendous...
" Doesn't look like letting up soon, does it?" He mused. Of course, he actually quite enjoyed the rain when reading. If it hadn't just started out of nowhere, he'd probably be asleep by now. Turning his attention back to his book, he realized something.
He was getting rather hungry, for someone who's awake at 10 PM.
Carefully putting his bookmark into his collection of papers that was a book, he left for the kitchen. Arriving at his desired destination, he strolled over to the fridge. The man let out a disappointed groan as he opened the door and peered inside. " I've run out of fo~od..." He slapped his forehead. How could he be so absent-minded as to run out of provisions? He could have sworn he bought some last week...
He shrugged off his growling stomach and went back to the living room. His short, tousled black hair swished around a bit as he turned quite sharply on his right heel into the correct doorway. He slumped into his armchair once more. Picking up his almost forgotten book, he remembered what had happened before he put it down. Laughing at the wit of the main character in the paragraph he had just finished reading, he turned the page.
" Huh?" He uttered in confusion, " The page's blank." Flipping through the rest of them, he was all the more assured that all the pages were, more or less, blank. Strange, he thought as he closed it neatly, and got up to put it back on the shelf. He was considerably disappointed, as the novel was just getting to the good part. He was really looking forward to the unveiling of the culprit and the undoing of his crimes.
That's okay though, he thought to cheer himself up, I'll see it a lot in days to come. I don't need to read about it.
In truth, he was a detective in the making. He had recently solved his first case a week ago, and if the culprit hadn't left a copy of the 'suicide' note in his room's desk drawers, he never would have solved it, but he did. It was geniunely exhilarating experience, being up there, giving the long, drawn out 20 minute explanation on how the murderer executed the crime at hand. Of course, everyone was asleep by the time he finished, but he got his point across. The inspector told him to be more entertaining next time.
He was planning on bringing finger puppets to the next crime scene, but she had told him it was against her religion for him to do something so stupid. Who did she think she was? If he wanted to use them to explain what happened, he could! He even bought an extra set. Get with it, inspector, He thought as he brushed one of the female one's hair. Besides, she's an atheist. He wished he had thought of that comeback earlier.
Darn you, stairway wit. He'd have to tell her that one next time he saw her.
Before now, he was being kept awake by his book. However, seeing as that it was currently pointless to fight off sleep, he drowsily got up from his chair and made his way out of the room and into the main hallway. Shutting the door quietly behind him, the young man approached the stairwell that twisted and turned ever-so-elegantly up to the second floor. He was glad to have had this house bestowed upon him by his mother and father.
Up on the next floor, he turned towards where his room was situated. He selected the proper room, opened the door, and ran for the lone one-person bed in the right corner. Getting under the thin blankets, he fell into a deep, comfortable slumber the second his head hit the pillow.
On the other hand, while he was sleeping the night away, someone somewhere was plotting something most horrendous...
To be continued.