I still hate poetry. Maybe it’s because my analytical mind can’t comprehend most of the creative elements used in poetic phrasing. Or maybe it’s because I have a four-page paper on a poem due tomorrow, and I’m only through the first page. Yeah, maybe that’s it…
In other news, I had a excellent four-day weekend, which, of course, made it all the worse to have to come back to school and get a slight scare about not having enough PE credits to graduate. Luckily, I found out that was a false alarm, but I still have to do spring marching band in order to get the credit. I hope the freshmen aren’t as stupid as they were last year…
I also hate physics. And calculus. And Washington State history. Physics is really hard and barely understandable (which bugs me to no end considering I’ve never had this much trouble comprehending anything). Calculus has an insane workload (think thirty not-so-easy problems a night almost every night). And finally, Washington State history is just an idiotic graduation requirement that’s vastly harder than the version my peers had to take in eighth grade, when I was busy taking Texas State history. Life is unfair, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Gar.
So here I am, two paragraphs done in my essay, and I don’t know what else to say. I’m not a big fan of poetry, if you haven’t noticed. I simply don’t understand why I need to write four pages analyzing it. I understand the poem fine. It’s about a guy and his lover with the guy saying all this flowery stuff to the sun about how it was intruding upon their world, blah blah blah, yada yada, and all that jazz. It’s a good poem, but I just can’t seem to figure out what my English teacher wants me to write about. There’s a limit to how much one can BS an essay. It’s about a page and a half. After that, it becomes obvious you don’t know what you’re talking about, and the grade drops exponentially in relation to the amount of paper you’ve wasted saying nothing important.
I know from experience.
It just turned eleven, which means I should get things in gear and crank out a semblance of a well-made essay, even if I don’t do any pre-writing (a quarter of the essay grade, unfortunately, but totally pointless) and the final ends up being three pages. I don’t care (enough) any more to worry about getting a 75% on an English paper. It’s about par for the course these days, meaning both the grade and the pointlessness of the essay. I’d rant about the time we had to write an essay literally about nothing, but that’d take too long, and I really need to finish this essay so I can sleep and try to forget all the physics homework I didn’t do because of the essay. (Of course I didn’t procrastinate! Well, not really. Kind of. Perhaps a bit. Okay, I could have made my life easier by doing the essay over the weekend, but where’s the fun in that? I wouldn’t be able to complain. Meh.)
