I’m getting tired, as usual. I finished reading Jack London’s Call of the Wild today between classes. I had a lot of free time because we only spent about 30 minutes in Technology, Literacy, & Culture and only about 2 minutes in Fiction Writing I. I’m not going to bore my readers again by blogging about school. But, I will give you a rough draft of my first homework of the semester.
I thought this was kind of a neat assignment to start off Fiction Writing I. This is just the rough draft. But, I imagine the final version will be something along the lines of this. I tried my best to write with honesty, but there is little room to delve deeper because it can only be one page in length, double-spaced. I hope I can actually dig a little deeper and truly discover who I am through writing. It will be hard, but writing well is not easy.
Who are you?
Write this in either first person or third person…your goal is to be yourself on paper…Writing is discovery. Who are you, really? That’s what you’re writing this to find out.
Who I am is who I want to be and who I don’t want to be. I wish could let go of the past. That’s what really defines me as a person, or so that’s who I see myself as. I was this 18-year-old kid who didn’t know where he’s going in life, and didn’t need a reason to care. I was this all-state athlete, this Beta Club president, this Mu Alpha Theta vice president, this guy that was very involved. I had my share of loves, girls that I still can’t get out of my head, girls that I felt, at one time or another, could be my soul mate. I thought I knew what love was. I was motivated to be the best at anything that I was doing. I was smart, athletic, funny, and could walk around with any clique because I had many friends.
Who I was then is who I’m not now. I’m lost, holding on to what I had then. I can’t move forward because of this. I’m still smart (at least I think I am), somewhat athletic, possibly funny to some, and my friends have now dwindled down to a small circle who rarely have enough time for each other. I know longer know what love is, and I’m unmotivated.
I constantly look back over the last four years and wonder what I could have done differently. I was a bright, young 18-year-old kid with nothing but the future ahead of him. I still think I’m that kid sometimes. I still think I’m meant for extraordinary things. But, sometimes reality sets in, and tells me that I’m not going to be extraordinary. I’m not meant for anything special. I should just be content with being about as special as the next average Alabamian male.
I don’t want to be content with normal. I want to be motivated enough to offer something special to this world before I leave. I want the passion I had four years ago.