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Writing 101, Day Six: A Character-Building Experience

Prompt:

Today, you’ll write about the most interesting person you’ve met in 2014. In your twist, develop and shape your portrait further in a character study.

Blah:

He liked to sit across the room for us, watching us. He had dark, dead looking eyes. The longer you know him you learn to understand the little things. Twirling his finger in the ends of his hair, is the first thing any of us noticed about him, because he’s not really a talker. Maybe he had trouble expressing himself, or maybe he was just fed up with talking on deaf ears. It was hard for me to identify with him. He didn’t like to better himself and i couldn’t stop trying.

He was tall, 6’1”. He was weirdly athletic, but didn’t play sports. He was strangely petty and strangely caring…i say strangely because it’s hard to gage him. Hard to read what his intentions are. It’s hard to gage when he was being honest or just jerking a chain he knew how to jerk.

He’s one of the few people who cried and i felt like his face wasn’t made for it. He’s the kind of person who should never cry, but cries too much. his hands are really big, and tactile. He’s excellent at fine motor skill related things. He also moved involuntarily instead of standing still. I don’t think he knows he does it.

I feel sick

Writing 101, Day Four: The Serial Killer

Prompt:

Today, write about a loss. The twist: make this the first post in a three-post series.

Purpose:

I was looking through some things with my mom and i found this old paper I wrote for a class journal. It has a lot of water damage and i’d thought it’d lost it. It means a lot to me because a lot of questions i ask myself surface in this horrible question-copia. I’m going to type it up for this post.

 

Prompt:  What is your purpose

What is anyone’s purpose? What can we say that every moment of out life is about?

My mind wonders to the humors of Avenue Q, but then my heart sinks. What if i become Princeton? What if i don’t know? I breathe air and i have thought! I have questions and to each there is a new answer with new questions.

Why are we here? Life? thought? The world? 42? An obscure joke? Are we that? I don’t know. Who does? If no one knows or no one cares to tell me then should i care? Should this question or the title rule me? If i decided on that, then where would i be? What will i wake up and strive towards? Anarchy? Hedonism? Religion? Is a purpose something i should known? Or something i will end knowing? Should i think about what i bring to the table my whole life or about what i brought when i leave? What do others leave me? Should i decided their purposes based on what they gave me, or more so should i let them tell me? Life is about questions. It’s that abstract tendency that makes us human. This uncertainty and horror and faith is what drives the past back and pulls forth the future. But honestly, since we all have no clue about purpose shouldn’t we all just live and hope to eventually find out.

Cassius

Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans
Mark him and write his speeches their books
Alas, it cried, “Give me some drink, Titinius”
As a sick girl. Ye God’s! It doth amaze me
A man of such feeble temper should
So get the start of the majestic world
And bear the palm alone