What happens when your English teacher tells you to take out a pen and a piece of paper and write continuously for five minutes straight with absolutely no explanation of what to write about.
All of the following is unedited, straight off the messy paper I scrawled this stuff onto.
I am still sitting here wondering if my stream of consciousness will ever be completely understandable to someone other than myself… and if it never is, that’s honestly just kind of cool.
Sometimes I wonder if whatever I dump onto a page in English class in high school will ever have any relevance in the world and honestly it probably won’t but I think about these kinds of things a lot, especially late at night in my bed at like two in the morning on a school night because I can’t force myself to fall asleep (namely, last night) and that’s when I start to struggle with what my purpose is as a human being on this earth.
I don’t know why my freewrite topics always revert back to this subject (ever since the fourth grade when we would do those short warm up things at the start of class in those ratty old spiral notebooks- I loved mine to such great lengths). Maybe I always end up here because so much of my existence depends on me pondering my existence and GOD [English teacher] WHY YOU GOTTA INTERRUPT MY DEEP THOUGHTS BY MEOWING AT A RED DASCHUND ERASER (jk [English teacher] ily you’re my favorite)
I have no idea where to go from here with this writing and that reminds me a lot about the SAT that I have to take this Saturday and jeez I hate SAT prep.
And then we had to put down our pens.