I Learned Something Wonderful

It’s called “sentence looping”. We’re supposed to use it for some freewriting in English–finding the theme of the book by letting our thoughts out onto paper without any inhibition, stumbling across brilliant theses when we let our minds wander freely…

My English teacher is a 29-year-old surfer. Everyday, he wears a belt with a big blue buckle. His only pair of shoes seems to be some beat up steel-toed combat boots. But I think he wears them ironically. He’s a total hippie, okay? He talks to our class about individualism and classical music and the punk rock movement and how to avoid taking a Breathalyzer test.

So yeah, he’s all about us stumbling across brilliant theses when we let our minds wander freely.

Anyway, sentence looping. What you do is, you look at a random sentence, pick a word, and then start writing about that word–all the thoughts that come to your mind, just write ’em. Then, you take a look at that paragraph and pick a word and do it again. When you figure that you’re all done, you can pick a word from the very last paragraph and try to use it to connect with the first sentence.

Hence–a loop.

Anyway, that ought’a make it a little easier to come up with story-a-day ideas, you know? I mean, if I just go on a little tangent, I can probably think of something to write about. So, hey, if I’m ever out of stuff to write about, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.

So that’s what I’m going to do now. Let’s see here… I just need something to go off of. Okay. I’m going to just start with the word, tanorexic, which is–according to Merriam-Webster.com–a new slang term that means “given to excessive tanning”. I’m going to bold-face the word that I’m going off of in the next paragraph, okay?

Tanning, I know, can be a dangerous habit. Bed tanning and sun tanning are both well-known causes of skin cancer. Frankly, I think spray-tanning is just silly. Maybe that’s just coming from a SoCal native, but I just think it’s silly that you would bother intentionally changing your skin-tone to an orangey tint. It’s sort of… appalling. To me, at least. It seems like such an unnecessary length to go to. I put on sun-screen when I remember to, usually only when I go to the beach or something, and aside from that, I just let myself tan naturally.

Being local is something I value a lot… I like where I live. I love it here. The people, the place–there are a lot of people I know who say they hate the city, they want to move somewhere small and more remote so they can avoid the stress of living somewhere so noisy and busy. Me, though? I love it here. I can’t imagine living out of a city. I love the city. It’s busy and exciting. Crowded and dirty as hell, loud and interesting, bright and beautiful. I live for this. I love going downtown. I love to see all the culture. Little local areas with their special ways of living. Craft fairs. All of it. I love it.

A lot of people nowadays are getting into the whole “throw money at the problem so it goes away” thing. It’s weird. That’s not what I learned when I was little… I wanted to solve problems. Sometimes, I wonder if it would be easier if we could just spend money and make things all better. But what if everybody did that? Then, nobody would actually do anything. Sure, we can pay people to do this or that, but eventually, there’s not going to be anybody left to do the stuff we need to get done. Who’s going to fight our wars? Who’s going to help the people in Africa who can’t get clean water? Sure, fine, you can donate some money and hopefully, that money turns into water. Write it off on your taxes. Okay, great. What about the rest of the world’s water crisis? The Earth doesn’t care how much cash you have. That’s not going to take salt out of the ocean. We need to actually do. Not donate. Doooo.

We need more people to start caring. Not enough people do that. You think you get it, and you don’t. You say you get it. But you don’t, do you? No. You say you know what’s wrong, but you’re not doing anything about it. You’re just going to pass that duty onto the next person. Well, he’s doing it, too. Everyone knows what’s wrong. We just need a couple people to care–to REALLY care–about it. We need to get something done.

What happens next, anyways? What’s going to happen in a few days? Years? God, I need to be ready for tomorrow. And all the crap afterwards. I can’t just get skin cancer like ~45% of the population does by age 65. (see that genius little tie-in?) I have to keep going and live for tomorrow! In The Princess Bride, Westley said something about promising to outlive each other so that they could live forever… Sound like a plan?

That’s enough writing for one night. Okay, it wasn’t a story. That’s fine. Good night, sweet chickedies.

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