College Essay 2013

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 07, 2019

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Submitted: September 07, 2019



The Writer of Me

What does one have to say to impress a college? I mean the point of this is to win you over, isn’t it? But to write something so magnificent that it intrigues you enough to accept me is harder than it seems. I mean sure, for some kids it’s essentially “I’m going to write about my hero” or “Gee, wouldn’t it be great to talk about camp and how it changed my life (even though it probably wasn’t that important to begin with)?” Then they (insert sarcasm here) tediously type up an emotion felt essay that describes how unique and wonderful they are. But I’m just not that kind of person.  I’m not going to blow some specific external situation or person into an internal reflection of the human being I am. I’m just going to give you a taste of me from my thoughts and my feelings as I type away.

I really don’t know what to write about, honestly. Inspiration is out of my reach at the moment. Usually my best writings are those created under the worst of my emotions. I take my inner turmoil and turn it into beautiful chaos on a page (this is usually my poetry). Or I just ramble on until the words spark the creativity of my heart and set fire to a masterpiece. Speaking of which, I hate pens, and I’m not too fond of typing either. Pencils are the god given tool of writing, a divine utensil of mystery sent down from the heavens. I mean how cool is it that at your very own fingertips you can form words and then make them vanish into thin air? It’s a piece of nature’s magic that we can embrace. It doesn’t get any better than that. And so it’s upsetting that the people of today are so brainwashed by materialism that they think typing everything is the way to go. And what’s up with those teachers that force you to write in pen? Have they gone mad? The pencil makes every piece of writing personal and clean. Free of mistakes. Perfect to the creator. All this other junk just ruins the art of freehand creation, taints the passion of the thought to fingertip to paper connection. 

Then, of course, the argument is brought up that computer documentation and the usage of pens concretes your work and makes your word some sort of promise that can never be broken. Or in other words, gives life and purpose to what you’re writing.  And all I have to say to that is, that is just a silly illusion society has formed to further their justification on the advancement of technology, and protect their sense of security. Here’s the deal. If you mean what you write, just don’t erase it. Voila! Life. Purpose. And if it fades over time, you just didn’t preserve your paper well enough. And even if your words, your sentences, your story, fades over time it’s doing nothing different than following the natural course of life. We come and we go. We learn, fear, love, and grow. Each step we take is a word on a page, each mistake a sentence, each discovery a paragraph, every smile the imagery and wonder within. So as the years go by another chapter of our life is concluded. And once we die, a novel of unique beauty is left behind. We don’t have control over who reads it or who places it on their shelf to collect dust. We just have to accept or hope that we have done our best to be something more than just existence itself. 

So on that note, I think it’s safe to say I’m my own person; I’ve just shown you a part of me that I absolutely love. And sure, it’s probably really out there and risky or something discouraged in the writing of essays, but there was no other way for me to write about me than to do it through, well… me.

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