English adhaj4arebfsdafkjlDIE.
Dear James Joyce,
I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hate you. Hate hate HATE you. Do you desire more irritability? Well.
Your prose is not purple. It is delicately tinted the same wondrous shade of lavender as a newborn rose rising from the earth at dawn. You must think you're so clever, with your little adjectives and twisted sentence structure and wow, you know colours. Amazing. I thought the only colour in Ireland was green. But you should describe every last detail to me, you really should. Then again...I COULD USE ADJECTIVES IN KINDERGARTEN TOO. IT'S NOT THAT HARD. I don't give a fuck if you can unhinge your jaw and swallow a thesaurus to help you describe the sea at evening (pardon, you were describing the moon. "A rim of the young moon cleft the pale waste of sky..." GAG ME WITH A FORK.)
Second. I can't figure out what the hell is going on in half your narrative. When you just vaguely allude to something, don't make it a plot point. The reader may not be taking the time to reread every fucking sentence you put to paper because SOME of us have employers to talk to, mathletes to coach and other classes to attend. IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME A NAME, A DETAIL OR EVEN A PRONOUN I PROBABLY WON'T BE ABLE TO CONNECT THAT THE CHARACTER SPEAKING IS THE CHARACTER YOU MENTIONED FOUR PAGES BACK WHO DIDN'T EVEN HAVE A SPEAKING PART AND ONLY GOT NAMED ONCE.
Also, what the hell is it with you and leaving things out? I can leave things out, but that doesn't make me subtle. (Excuse me, SUBTLE). It just makes you confusing, frustrating and impossible to read without a stack of notes that I won't be able to take because I won't be in class that day. IT MAKES YOU AND ME CRAZY.
And hell, let's not just stop at leaving out vital information (or, masking it in your impenetrable delicately-tinted-the-same-wondrous-shade-of-lavender-as-a-newborn-rose-rising-from-the-earth-at-dawn prose). Why don't we get rid of quotation marks and periods, too? SOUNDS GREAT CAN I DIE NOW.
I want to go back to Montaigne.
HATRED,
Lisa, who hates you.
I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hate you. Hate hate HATE you. Do you desire more irritability? Well.
Your prose is not purple. It is delicately tinted the same wondrous shade of lavender as a newborn rose rising from the earth at dawn. You must think you're so clever, with your little adjectives and twisted sentence structure and wow, you know colours. Amazing. I thought the only colour in Ireland was green. But you should describe every last detail to me, you really should. Then again...I COULD USE ADJECTIVES IN KINDERGARTEN TOO. IT'S NOT THAT HARD. I don't give a fuck if you can unhinge your jaw and swallow a thesaurus to help you describe the sea at evening (pardon, you were describing the moon. "A rim of the young moon cleft the pale waste of sky..." GAG ME WITH A FORK.)
Second. I can't figure out what the hell is going on in half your narrative. When you just vaguely allude to something, don't make it a plot point. The reader may not be taking the time to reread every fucking sentence you put to paper because SOME of us have employers to talk to, mathletes to coach and other classes to attend. IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME A NAME, A DETAIL OR EVEN A PRONOUN I PROBABLY WON'T BE ABLE TO CONNECT THAT THE CHARACTER SPEAKING IS THE CHARACTER YOU MENTIONED FOUR PAGES BACK WHO DIDN'T EVEN HAVE A SPEAKING PART AND ONLY GOT NAMED ONCE.
Also, what the hell is it with you and leaving things out? I can leave things out, but that doesn't make me subtle. (Excuse me, SUBTLE). It just makes you confusing, frustrating and impossible to read without a stack of notes that I won't be able to take because I won't be in class that day. IT MAKES YOU AND ME CRAZY.
And hell, let's not just stop at leaving out vital information (or, masking it in your impenetrable delicately-tinted-the-same-wondrous-shade-of-lavender-as-a-newborn-rose-rising-from-the-earth-at-dawn prose). Why don't we get rid of quotation marks and periods, too? SOUNDS GREAT CAN I DIE NOW.
I want to go back to Montaigne.
HATRED,
Lisa, who hates you.