My Creative Writing Teacher Thinks I'm Evil
Another Entry From Creative Writing Class:
Begin with “Today I will…” and write for 10 minutes.
Today I will realize my own existence. I will realize exactly how human I really am and accept the things that I cannot do, and kill those things which I cannot conquer. I am only so much of a person and I can’t make everyone happy. It’s far past time I stopped trying to live up to everyone else’s standards and create my own in everything that I do. It’s far past time I stop biting my tongue and biding my time until things are right. I will take action and control in my own life. Existentialism is an art and I shall master it and be the very oil on my canvas. I will hold the brush instead of letting someone else create my art for me. I will be my own voice and my own standard. Everyone else will live up to me and if they don’t, they shall have to live in the wake of their own failure until I am satisfied. I will hate no longer. I will shed not a tear more. I will be the very noose around your neck, pulling ever so tightly and kissing you lightly as your neck crackles and shatters in my arms. This is the end of all things beautiful. Everything shall turn black when I lay my hands upon you and your skin will flake like snow falling from a grey sky. Then, when the rope burn around your neck begins to bleed, you will know I am your lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee. I will kill such things tomorrow.
Begin with “Today I will…” and write for 10 minutes.
Today I will realize my own existence. I will realize exactly how human I really am and accept the things that I cannot do, and kill those things which I cannot conquer. I am only so much of a person and I can’t make everyone happy. It’s far past time I stopped trying to live up to everyone else’s standards and create my own in everything that I do. It’s far past time I stop biting my tongue and biding my time until things are right. I will take action and control in my own life. Existentialism is an art and I shall master it and be the very oil on my canvas. I will hold the brush instead of letting someone else create my art for me. I will be my own voice and my own standard. Everyone else will live up to me and if they don’t, they shall have to live in the wake of their own failure until I am satisfied. I will hate no longer. I will shed not a tear more. I will be the very noose around your neck, pulling ever so tightly and kissing you lightly as your neck crackles and shatters in my arms. This is the end of all things beautiful. Everything shall turn black when I lay my hands upon you and your skin will flake like snow falling from a grey sky. Then, when the rope burn around your neck begins to bleed, you will know I am your lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee. I will kill such things tomorrow.