Prostokvasha

[19 December, 2008]

off the press

Reading the following college admission essay made me remember the young hopeful days, when words were unpolished and honest. When we had nothing to lose and everything to look forward to. When we were raw and full of creativity, undamaged and unshaped by collegiate systems.

My own college essay is lost in a forgotten hard drive (though it would be so fun to reread it now), but I do have the early-days online journaling archives to turn to. I'd like to think that my writing has improved since then, that the general thoughts-to-words transitions are easier now. That maybe, I might even have some wisdom to impart. But looking back on our writing styles, they weren't all bad. We allowed ourselves to be shamelessly creative, I think, and it even usually turned out pretty well. Which only really says that it's all downhill from here.



P.S. Ok, I just went back and actually read some of the old journals, and all I can say is: MY LIFE WAS A TOTAL TOOL! Things seriously get better, people. Stick it out. The heartache makes the aftermath that much sweeter.

And I bet you didn't even expect such a message of hope from me around this time of year!

0 sighs or salutations:

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