Question by Obscenity.: Autobiographical English Essay. it’s a little weird but i need some critique.?
Due to writer’s block, I am forced to present to you the simplest form of an autobiography…. Just me. You may say it’s unorthodox, after reading all those anecdotes about basketball and whatnot, but there is a lack of sufficient details on any topics for me to write this paper on. So, I’ve decided I’ll chose three things from my life that may be interesting, or at least what I can make interesting with my sick, twisted methods… for your sake. Together we’ll delve into the history of my name, my earliest memory, and my life in general, experiencing reality and fantasy in one package, making you question whether what you’re living is real…
First off, let’s examine my name. To the shallow mind, Genevieve Marie ********* doesn’t encourage imagination, but I find great inspiration in something so simple. How did my parents think of it? Maybe, even as my parents saying their vows, my mother thought: “Hmmm… Genevieve, that’s a pretty name…”. Or maybe, she was on a trip to France and made two good friends named Genevieve and Marie ad decided to name her kid after them… it’s unlikely, but hey, it could happen. The story I heard was that my great grandma was named Delilah Genevieve (The Genevieve being her middle name) and so my mom named me after her. I guess they lost creativity when it came to my middle name, because I know about 6 other girls my age with the middle name Marie, so I guess “Genevieve” is just the vibrant, glossy cover to another Cinderella remake…
Ickle Gena: Mommy, am I really four?
Mom: [talking on phone] No.
That, my friend, is my earliest memory, taking place August 1st, 1998; my birthday party. I remember mine and my mother’s exact positions, and my tone of voice: that of a curious, two-front-teethless, commanding, inquiring four-year-old. The mystery though, still remains. Was I really just a 1460-day-old princess, or was I something more? Maybe the government brainwashed me and my family so we were deluded into thinking I was just the simple child that adults adore and babysitting teens despise. The person on the other line could have been a mind-reading anarchist, ready to ask the question he knew to be wrong at the precise moment, in an attempt to enlighten my young intellect after hearing the whispered pleas from my mother’s subconscious mind, sending me a sign that no, I am not really four, I am one-hundred-thirty-six, my whole past and any indication thereof being destroyed in a sick government experiment.
Life is a laundry room. Stains, dirty clothes, missing socks, and humming sounds; these are all part of the tangled mess of rumors, reality, imagination, and irritation of existence. Entertainment is found in simple things like lint and hair ties on pencils, and addiction can be found extremely simple things like the smell of clean clothes and YouTube. One day, you might pick up a pile of laundry and find a dollar sitting there, life is unexpected. But sometimes life can take a nasty turn, when the poop is found on your favorite pair of jeans. But not to worry, it’s only a pair of jeans; the misery only lasts a couple days, unless you’re extremely stingy. Can you decode this metaphor? Well, examine the first sentence and make the connection. Luck comes, and traumas happen, but life goes on; and the washer keeps running.
One flaw in the government’s plan to brainwash the world is that we remember, if only in dreams. Dreams of people, places, and things are that of another life, where pigs fly through skies that are raining men, and you always know what to say. You may not believe any of this, in fact, I don’t even believe half of the things I’ve said, but it’s possible, isn’t it? We all question our past once in a while, and this is one of those times where I look back and imagine what could have been, or what had happened, and why. In order to do so, I think up ridiculous reasons, because, hey, it’s my life…
Reading this over, i realize how many typos and mistakes i made, just bear with me please? this is my rough draft. i’ll smooth the edges between paragraphs soon.
Answer by Hayo
You definitely have an interesting point of view to things. Comparing it to the cliche, the glass is half empty versus half full, it seems like you would argue the point where the glass itself came from. Lol.
But I think it’s interestingly good. The only thing that I would point out that you should maybe alter is the transitions between the three different points, but by reading with what you wrote, I think you should be able to come up with a clever way to do so.
Good luck and if it means anything to you, if my English teacher (11th grade) read that, she’d probably love it.
She is definitely one to love the twisted and odd.
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