I’m horrible at forced writing. Not a joke. If I can write about whatever, in whatever style I want, with spelling mistakes and my own words, I can write for pages, but at school; nada. I always struggle with the tasks, and that often results in me playing minesweeper on my computer for a half or a whole hour, and then stressing my ass off, trying to write a decent essay. This weird trick works for me, but I don’t recommend it. Anyways, last English preliminary exam, I decided after 40 hours of swiping mines that I needed to loosen up my writing fingers. So I wrote whatever came to mind. And that resulted in this:
I know nothing to write about. Nada. I hate the tasks, they are way too complicated for me and my pea brain. Nom that is not true, I don’t have a pea brain but I do have a stupid mind, which can’t wrap itself around things that I don’t care about. Ammmrghd. Difficult. I have to write something because I have to answer the task if I want a 6 or an A, if you want. But it is seriously hard. I hate having to write about things that I can’t write about, it is like trying to find the light switch in a dark room and not succeeding. I’m always looking, looking, looking, grasping wrong and then in the end I end up half outside the door with a C and a horrible average. Idiotic tasks. The teacher doesn’t come up with these herself I know that, but she could have made them more fun? Right? Rocked them up a bit? That is not that much to ask for, right? MAN, I really have to write something sensible now, because I have been sitting staring at my screen and keyboard for about half an hour now, and I’m wasting time. I hate wasting time. I hate these tasks. I hate having to write formal. I like writing nonsense, it is comfortable and cool as cucumber. Okay. I’m starting now. Now. Like right now. Yeah, I don’t know anything. I need a breather. Where is the friggin teacher when you need her? She complimented me just yesterday about my amazing quality of writing. About me having such a fluent way of writing English. Pleasant, she said. Yeah, thank you very much ma’am but that doesn’t help me when you have such horrible tasks. Seriously, I don’t even understand half of them, and I know a lot off words. A lot. Not as many as Darren Criss but I’m like, close. Okay, okay, okay, breathe Marieke. You are going to get through this, just breathe and try to remember some formal sentences. Breathe. Good girl. One more. Or eat your banana. That should do the trick. Okay, eating my banana, now. Eating banana. It’s a tiny banana. Banana is eaten. One task is complete. OMG, the blonde guy sitting beside me just started taking notes or something. He is working. He knows what to write about. Help me, dead-god, I’m dying over here. I need another banana. No luck there either, apparently I just took one with me. I’ll just keep writing. Hopefully it will loosen up my mind and thoughts and heart and brain and hands and fingers and everything. Keep writing. Keeping writing. Lalalala. I will survive. I guess. Breathe.
I went all technical and nerdy, so if you want to read more click here...
Man, my nails are getting long. I am so proud of myself to have quit nail biting. Good job Marieke, well done, luv ya gurl. Aaaaawrgh, next song on ipod. I need a break. I need a breather. Breather, breath, breathe. I love those words. So similar but yet so different. Lovely. Love, loving, lovely. Another threesome. Ow gosh, he has been taking more notes. He is note-taking, he is working, he is getting an A. MY A. I want an A. I won’t get it today though, cause I’ve been writing nonsense for about 7 minutes now. 7 minutes. That is like a lifetime in fireflies lives. Ow, I’m starting to mess up. Grammatical errors creeping up on me, trying to kill me with their red wavy lines. Slashing my throat like Sweeney Todd. Breathe. Don’t start mixing in Sweeney, you’ll get distracted. You’ll die. You’ll pass out. You’ll get a heart attack. Okay, I’m quitting now. I’m stopping. I’m going to do my task. My goal is going to be reached. Even if it means having to bribe the guy sitting next to me to get his text. Maybe I’ll how him my b--bs. Okay. Bye. Wish me luck. Love me quietly. Bye. Bye. Bye. Help me, I’m gonna die. That rimes if you say it out loud. Say it out loud. Good. You see. I’m a riming genius. Okay. Bye. Die. Death. Marieke. Maybe I should go buy another banana?
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