I've got this assignment, you see. I have to write a narrative essay. As if something worth writing about has happened in my limited years of existence in a city in which nothing happens.
So I've been tossing around some ideas of a topic. For instance, I could write about the day I lost respect for public education: my 1st day in my current English class. Then again, I doubt that would get me very far grade-wise. So I'm leaning towards writing about religion; more specifically becoming an atheist. I could probably better use my time writing the actual paper, but maybe blogging about it will lead to some new revelations by giving me more time to think.
But back to education, more specifically my English class. A typical day in this class consists of listening to my incompetent teacher who has no right to be teaching drone on about some superfluous attempt to reduce writing to a science, all while interjecting hollow pop-culture references in a desperate attempt to relate to her students and be well liked. I mention reducing writing to a science because nothing infuriates me more than an attempt to do so, Writing can be one of two things, which we all learn early on: fiction or non-fiction.
In the case of fiction, writing is used an art form. It can't be taught to those unwilling to practice, it can't be reduced to a step by step process. One can't be taught to write any more than he can be taught to paint. Certainly he could be instructed to put paint on canvas, but nothing of value would come from it unless he had a genuine interesting in painting, and the drive to practice and develop his skill. Writing is no different.
That's then end of my rant for today, off to try and write a paper. Thanks for reading.