10 replies to this topic

[Kamau]

Haha. I'm going through my old school stuff, and I found an old English notebook from 2005. So... 10th grade, I think, judging from the teacher written on one of the pages. Anyway, the purpose of this notebook was to answer [potentially] philosophical/random questions as writing exercises. The few that I'm reading, I actually find amusing. So I'm going to post them here, just for the heck of it.

Writing Exercise #25. "If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast to the back of a cat? (*Do NOT try this out. Just THINK about it. Then write about it here.)"

Response: If you strap toast to the back of a cat (a very funny situation to imagine, as the cat would have to allow you close enough to do so), very little confliction should make itself known (technically). This is because one would have to cancel the other out. The cat, in this case, would (hopefully) weigh more than the toast, so the 'toast landing butter-side down' theory would be canceled out by the 'cat landing on its feet' theory due to things like the laws of gravity.

It is much more funny if we use our imaginations instead, though, as instead of a simple answer, many possibilities could arise. "Would the cat and the toast 'battle it out' to see whose theory comes out on top?" "Would the toast affect the cat in any way so that neither wins?" "Would there be a lot of flips in the air?" (I myself wonder that last one.)

To solve this, one would have to actually test it out (which we do NOT want to do). Before you consider it, though, please. Think of the cat. (Honestly. What cat would want some dripping piece of toast on their back? And, for that matter, what toast would want to get cat fur all over it?)

Writing Exercise #17. Use the following words (underlined in the passage) to create a SHORT story: hypocrite, cookie jar, city, telephone.

Response: "Don't eat that!" the teenage-boy scolded, picking the plate up out of reach of the girl next to him. "It's bad for you!"

The girl, who appeared to be roughly the same age as him, looked slightly annoyed. "So? Like you don't want one, too," she responded, referring to the batch of cookies that had just cooled enough to eat.

"No, actually, I don't," he responded, crossing his arms and looking right back at her.

Before she could retort again, the telephone rang. Eyes narrowed for a moment more, she left to answer it.

"Who is it?" he called through the door, inching already towards the jar.

"It's Mom- she says she'll back from the city in an hour or so," was her response.

"Oh, ok," he said, then turned and reached into the jar...

"You are such a hypocrite," a voice said from behind him, causing him to freeze in his tracks, turning even as his hand slowly emerged from the cookie jar, a freshly baked cookie in his grasp.

He looked at her with a sheepish smile. "Ah...Want one?" he quickly asked, offering the cookie he had taken in her direction.

After a moment, she laughed and accepted it from him. "Get one for yourself too, silly," she then said, pushing him lightly towards the jar, where he wasted no time grabbing another for himself.

Writing Exercise #21. Describe what you do on a rainy day.

Response: What I do on rainy days is boring; nothing special. So instead, I'm going to talk about what I USED to do.

When I was younger, rainy days were great things. The harder the rain fell, the better. My sister and I would first run into the bathrooms (whoever got there first got to use it first) and change into our swimsuits. We would then head outside with whatever we could - I recall that spoons and bowls, mostly metal, were used most often - and head out to play in the rain. Umbrellas were brought out as well, if we felt like it.

We would both sit down on the driveway - either next to a puddle or in one - and play. We held competitions to see who could fill their bowls faster. We'd let the umbrellas fill with water and spin them around or dump them on each other. Jumping in puddles happened when they were large enough. There was never a time when either of us went in not drenched.

But neither of us do that, anymore. Maybe it's because we "grew up" (though I refuse to believe that on my part). Maybe it's because we don't get along very well. Whatever the reason, that source of fun ended.

(Now I just settle for drenching her when we wash the cars.)

Writing Exercise: Looking back to first quarter.

Response: First quarter was (and is) the time where we all got used to our surroundings, our classes, and our teachers. There were probably many who got lost, and just as many who mixed their schedules up. As time passed, people grew used to what they had to do, where they had to go, and even the greater amount of work it takes to get through the year.

But that's just many people, not myself. Being familiar with the school already, I just had to get used to a new school schedule. That trusty piece of paper was in my pocket for the first few days of school, and it helped me to figure out the best way to get to my classes.

While it would be an outright lie to say that I enjoy all my classes, I definitely have to say that some are better than what I had last year. As for the others, I may have had more fun last year in a few, but I'm happy with [almost] all my teachers.

Even though only one quarter has passed, I've already got a few great moments of this school year. Like the time in English where a kid jumped out the window to get the fan that had fallen off the sill. And the time I got hit by the contents of a water bottle by accident (though that was more awkward than 'great.) It's certainly been an interesting year; that's for sure.

Notes towards the bottom/sides: (Don't forget about Safe Halloween and other projects that have happened.) (The Rewrite is progressing nicely! (and the rewrite of the Rewrite))

[Stars]

"If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast to the back of a cat? (*Do NOT try this out. Just THINK about it. Then write about it here.)"

Ha, I've always loved this question for some reason.

[Kamau]

Okay, so I have no idea what this is anymore. I think I thought I had a pretty good idea going on in my head when I was younger, but now I just find it incredibly...interesting, I guess is the right word to describe it. I think it's supposed to be a poem of some sort...

Based on Linsey's Dad** **(note: I have no idea what "Linsey's Dad" is any more)

Do you know what happens to
children who don't listen to their parents?
They die. They run into the
middle of the road,
or get whisked away by that stranger - why, they
were told not to talk to anyone they don't know.
Now it's too late.

Do you know what happens to
teenagers who drop out of high school?
They die. They get themselves
into pregnancies they can't handle,
or overdose on drugs - if they had
stuck around for health, they would have been warned.
Now it's too late.

Do you know what happens to
all those people who blast loud music?
They die. They blow out their
eardrums, or get mobbed by
angry people who don't like the same type of music -
they were told to turn the volume down.
Now it's too late.

Do you know what happens to
students who are all work and no play?
Yeah, that's right. They die.
They end up getting caner,
or waste away in their bedrooms.
They should have gone out and had some fun.
Now it's too late.

[Stars]

Yay for going out and having fun.

How old were you when you wrote this? o_-

[Kamau]

I'm not sure... :/ I think I was a sophomore in high school, so...I was either fourteen or fifteen, depending on the time of the year it was written.

[Kamau]

It's an old essay I used to get into college! =D They must have liked it, 'cause they said yes. (Either that, or they just never read it...)


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Every person has a similar set of characteristics that define them, no matter who they are. What's different about each person is the way they present these characteristics, and the order in which they present them. I'm the kind of person who tends to start off lightly, feeling my way into the things I get involved with (and boy, do I get involved). Once I get into something, I become active and helpful in any way I can, striving to make anything I can easier for everyone else without limiting myself in the process. I never back down from any task I pick up, and that ties into my persistence when it comes to doing things right.

I tend to immerse myself in more activities than I can handle, but while this can be a bad thing when it comes to finding time for new things to incorporate into my schedule, I also figure out the best way to handle my busy agenda, managing my time as wisely as possible under the circumstances. No matter how many events I get into, however, I still find time to fulfill the academic role I need to play, and while I may procrastinate a little (anyone who tells you they never do is lying), I don't scramble to get things done last minute. I don't allow myself to slack off for anywhere near that amount of time, as large as the temptation is for every student.

Now, I could recite all of the things I get involved with as examples, but this essay isn't supposed to be about that (or at least I don't perceive it to be). If anything, it's more about the way I handle myself in them. While I prefer to add my input rather than be the one making the most important decisions, I am willing to take a position of leadership if necessary, and have done so on various occasions. People tend to look to me when I show that I know what I'm doing, and I prove that I'm capable of handling things in an organized fashion. I'm always read to work with others to make sure things get done; after all, efficiency isn't as hard to accomplish when you have a bunch of people working together to reach common goals. Occasionally, I may end up using a longer method to finish something to a standard I like, but in the end things always work out.

Overall, I'd like to say that I am different from other applicants, if only to have completed a satisfactory essay. Differences may not be on the surface, but if you dig deep enough, you'll find that no two people are entirely alike, no matter what they may say.

[Stars]

Sneaky.

[Kamau]

This one is a response to an elaborate self-portrait writing exercise I did in 12th grade.

This exercise asks you to write a self-portrait, following specific directions. The constraints of the directions may help you to discover new aspects of yourself since you are following sentence-level prompts even as you develop your content. Following these prompts keeps you from directing your observations in familiar, perhaps predictable ways. This is not just a sentence writing exercise, it is a way for you to let others know more about you. And, just maybe, it is a way for you go get to know more about yourself.

Directions:
1. Picture yourself in your mind.
2. For a title, choose an emotion or color that represents yourself. You will not mention your name in the writing.
3. For a first line starter, choose one of the following: "You stand there..." "No one is here..." "In this (item) you are..." "I think sometimes..." "The face is..." "We had been..." Complete this sentence.
4. After your first sentence, build a portrait of yourself, writing the sentences according to the following directions:
-Sentence 2: Write a sentence with a color in it.
-Sentence 3: Write a sentence with a part of the body in it.
-Sentence 4: Write a sentence with a simile.
-Sentence 5: Write a sentence of over twenty-five words.
-Sentence 6: Write a sentence in under eight words.
-Sentence 7: Write a sentence with a piece of clothing in it.
-Sentence 8: Write a sentence with a wish in it.
-Sentence 9: Write a sentence with an animal in it.
-Sentence 10: Write a sentence in which 3 or more words alliterate.
-Sentence 11: Write a sentence with two commas in it. (Use them correctly.)
-Sentence 12: Write a sentence with a smell or color in it. (It could be the same color you used earlier or a different one.)
-Sentence 13: Write another sentence with a simile.
-Sentence 14: Write a sentence that could use an exclamation point (but don't use the exclamation point).
-Sentence 15: Write a sentence to end this portrait that uses the word or words you chose for a title.

Deceit

I stand in silence, staring down the person in front of me. All at once, my face turns bright red. I raise a hand to my lips in order to stifle the sound about to come out. Laughter seems to sound from all directions like a fly buzzing around my head. It takes a moment, but I, too, eventually let a laugh ring out, its sound warm and cheerful - no one notices that its echo seems hollow. The laughter dies again into silence. I am left picking at the threads of my jacket when no one is looking. I wish someone would realize it is only a cover for my true feelings. They watch me, naive and unsuspecting like a young puppy, not able to figure out that I am playing them all. But maybe I only think they don't understand - though I'm probably just being paranoid of the possibility. Since the beginning of high school, though, I've noticed a change in myself. The red face is still there, but more and more often I find that it's due to true laughter. I've begun to open up like a flower greets the spring, but the change isn't yet complete. I can do it. Soon, I'll have left the web of deceit behind me...and the person in front of me may have known this all along.

[Kamau]

Another response to a writing prompt in 12th grade. Not sure what the prompt was, but if I do, I'll edit it in. (Man, these looks a lot longer on paper. :/ )

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Oooh, that does it! I spent over an hour on that sketch, and he knows it! And what does he do? Come over here with that cheeky little grin on his face? Shove that little scribble he spent five seconds on, with that stupid paint set Mom got him for his birthday! I'll bet he thinks he's made a masterpiece. I say he just made a mess.

Oh great. Now he's upset. What does he expect? He got paint all over my paper! I have every right to be upset, don't I?

...Don't I? He's crying - the little loser always starts sniveling when he doesn't get-- Oh come on, stop crying. I hate it when you cry, twerp. But my sketch... Alright, alright, fine. It's actually pretty good, for a five-year-old. Not as good as mine...but one day, maybe.

----

I'll make myself feel better about length and include one-liner responses we had to write for certain situations.

Write a conversation that might be going on inside each of the following:

Two Peanuts Within a Shell
"I'm afraid of the dark..."
"Get over it."

Three Pennies Within a Purse
"I remember the good old days..."
"What 'old days'? You're a 2008 penny!"
"Yeah, you've gotta at least be a year 2000 for anything good."

Five Toes Within a Sock
Eenie: "Dear God, these socks again?"
Meenie: "They're too bunched up... I think I'm getting a wedgie."
Miney: "At least your room doesn't have a big hole in it!"
Mo: "At least that way you can see where you're going..."
Bob: "Why would he want to see anything? He's a toe!"

Six Groceries in a Grocery Bag
"Twenty-eight bottles of beer in the bag...twenty-eight bottles of beer! Take one down-"
"Shut up already!"
"I'm starting to think we should go back to 'I Spy'..."
"Dear God, not that again. It's always 'something black'!"
"...Uh, guys? I think there's a hole in this bag..."
"...Help..."

[Kamau]

Another one from 12th grade, this one collaborated with SHE and another of our mutual friends at the time.

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"Blub."

"Glub blub?"

"Bl-"

Dexter tapped the side of the bowl irritably with a black-painted nail, watching with utter disdain as his sister's fish fled to the safety of the plastic castle and his fish swam upside-down and sideways into the glass wall…again. "Why did I have to get the brain-damaged one?" he growled, stomping away in his ragged converses, the chains from his pants clinking as he went.

Beady black eyes watched as the tall blob walked off. "Alright, he's gone."

"Blub blub blub ♪" the other fish sang, swimming in circles, his mis-matching eyes rolling about in his head.

The first goldfish slowly emerged from inside the castle. "…Cut the crap, Jaws. Your mother

didn't spend all her short lifespan teaching you sentences to have you blub at me!"

Jaws stared at him blankly, his tiny mouth hanging open and his eyes staring in two different directions. "Uhm…your hair looks really nice today, Goldie! Hee hee, that'd make you…GOLDIELOCKS!" The fish spun around in circles from the force of his own hysterical giggling.

Goldie let out a sigh, rolling his eyes. "I don't have hair, you retard."

"Oh…but, but…" Jaws protested, pointing at Goldie's head with his lopsided fin, whereupon was perched a piece of shimmering glitter plastic seaweed that one of the freakish giant things had planted over by the ceramic mermaid.

"What?" Goldie spun around, then saw the end of the seaweed floating behind him. "Oh, for crying out loud…" He shook his body fiercely and let the seaweed fall away.

"Aww, now you're Baldy-locks," Jaws pouted, swimming over and awkwardly wrapping his fins around the other fish. "But it's okay, you're still my beeeessssttt friiiieeeennnd… and besides, bald is beautiful!"

Goldie darted away with a scowl, stopping near the glass on the other side of the bowl. "You're…You're…Argh, words can't even describe how stupid you are!"

There was a long silence as the other fish looked down and fussed with the colored rocks below, a small ashamed blush staining his fishy cheeks. "I'm not stupid, Goldie, I just…OH MY GAWD, IT'S SHINY!!!" he suddenly screeched, just noticing the light display on the floor from the sun shining through the glass and water. He dove at the tiny lights full force and smashed his head into a bobbing plastic diver, effectively knocking himself out silly.

"See now, that just proves my…" Goldie trailed off, eyes growing wide, mouth gaping open and closed as he focued on a blob growing larger. "Jaws, get away from the glass."

"Blub, blub…wait, wha…?" he trailed off, dazed and looking around as if trying to figure out where he was, even as a distorted face peered at him through the side of the bowl.

"Meow."

"SNOWBALL!!!" he shrieked in delight, darting towards the black cat's warped face in the glass, and smashing his head against the bowl for the second time in as many hours.

"Hello, my pretty fishie." The cat flashed his pearly white incisors at the little retarded specimen of his favorite snack.

"Don't just wave at him, you idiot, he's going to eat you!" Goldie hissed from his safe haven inside the plastic castle.

"Psh, you always say that, and Mr. Snowball's never done anything mean to me!" Jaws stuck his fishy nose in the air with a defiant hmph. "You're just jealous 'cuz he talks to me and not you! And how are you today, Mr. Snowball?" he chirped with the utmost cheeriness.

"I'm feeling quite well, thank you for asking Mr. Jaws. You look positively delicious today."

"Aww, shucks," he blushed, swimming in tiny circles. "You look even less snowy than yesterday. How did your tea party with blob-giant Maggie go?"

"It was bearable, I suppose. So, did you and your friend eat well today?" He licked his lips and smiled charmingly.

"Leave me out of this!" came the faint voice of Goldie, still hiding deep inside the castle.

Jaws merely rolled his eyes, each going in a different direction. "Eh, just the usual flakes…and you?"

"The usual cheap canned atrocity. But anyway, come on my dear, dear Goldie; why won't you come out and play?"

"He's suffering from hair-loss withdrawal," Jaws happily proclaimed. "His toupee fell off before, see?" He held up the shiny piece of plastic glitter seaweed for the larger animal's inspection.

Goldie streaked out of the castle. "I told you," he started, annoyed, jabbing a fin in Jaws' direction, "I don't have hair."

"It's okay, Goldie, I can fix that!" Jaws beamed, gently placing the seaweed back in place atop Goldie's head. Snowball stared into the fish bowl, his eyes narrowing more and more as the interaction took place.

"I can't take this anymore," he hissed before pouncing, knocking the bowl onto the floor.

"Oh God, we're going to die…!" Goldie screamed.

"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Jaws squealed, elated, riding the wave of water out of the bowl and onto the tile floor, where both fish landed with an unceremonious plop. The bowl lay half empty on its side, the colored rocks strewn about the floor, the plastic mermaid broken in half, and the glitter seaweed lying in a heap.

"SHINY!!" Snowball attacked the seaweed with childish delight, completely ignoring the goldfish desperately gasping for air. Jaws watched on from his tiny puddle, his gills flapping and eyes rolling about wildly, eventually focusing on his friend beside him, who fared no better.

"See, I told you he wasn't going to eat us," he forced out through pained gasps.

"You…you also told me the seaweed had magical powers."

"Well, I was obviously right, wasn't I?"

"…Jaws…you're an idiot."

"I know. =3*" (*The footnote at the bottom of the page says "Sorry about this, but we had to add it. It was too perfect.)

A silence filled the air – aside from the gasping breaths, of course – but Goldie finally spoke again. "…Jaws?"

"Yes, Goldie-locks?"

"You've got issues…but, I… I love you."

Jaws managed to draw one last gulp of water into his lungs. "…Blub?"

As the fish took their final breaths, Snowball rolled in the shiny seaweed, purring in euphoria.

Jaws never got the chance to explain what 'blub' meant.







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The teacher's only comment on this was "Good dialogue. Sounds natural (unfortunately)."

I remember us being so mad when he decided just to give everyone +5 extra credit points instead of actually grading the papers. XD

[Maelstrom]

Not an old writing response, but something I quickly wrote down in about 10 minutes, at about 3am now (And every time I look at it, I edit another sentence or phrase a bit >.<). Just one of those random scenarios that'll pop into my head and play themselves out.


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I gently inspect the other side of the bananas with my fingertips. The one that looked good had a big black spot on the back of it. I pull off its neighbor and begin to peel as I lean on the counter. The door to the backyard from the kitchen opens and a man walks in, a gun leveled at me. I barely glance up. No moths had followed him in.

His can't stand still and his movements are jerky. He looks at me almost expectantly. I take a bite out of the banana.

“What?” I ask, a little bored as I liberate small slices of the fruit and chew.

His eyes dart back and forth around the room, but always return to me.

“D-don‘t move! Just stay right there!” He takes small, shuffling steps at first as he walks in an arc around where I still lean against the counter. His gun is always pointed at me.

I lift my eyes up from the banana in my hand. “Do I look I‘m going to stop you?” He narrows his eyes at me.

“What? You think I should be afraid of you? Other people only think they’re afraid of you. They’re only afraid of the gun. You? You have no power. Without it, you’re nothing. If our roles were reversed- No, that’s why our roles aren’t reversed. You see this?” I gesture around the kitchen with a jerk of my head. “This is what real power gets you. You? You might be able to carry away some of this stuff. Go ahead Then what? You‘re okay for a while- if you can sell it. Then what?” I repeat. He looks down. “All this, I can have replaced. What you can take is shit compared to all this. You wave that thing around and suddenly you’ve got cops after your ass and you always gotta worry that one of these days someone’s gonna try something. As soon as you started waving that thing around instead of doing real shit, you admitted you couldn’t do nothing. Admitted to the world that you are nothing.” I shake my head and look down at the peel in my hand.

I’m alone in the kitchen again.