Yet Untitled Essay Research Paper

Yet Untitled Essay, Research Paper the way home from school one day David was pondering why he was not as popular or as liked as some people in his class.? He had many ideas running through his head.? Looks? Personality? The fact he wasn?t very good at

Yet Untitled Essay, Research Paper

On

the way home from school one day David was pondering why he was not as popular

or as liked as some people in his class.?

He had many ideas running through his head.? Looks? Personality? The fact he wasn?t very good at

football?? Either way he was depressed

and he knew it.? It was not as if he was

unpopular but when compared to some people he was just a mere mortal, not up to

the likes of the kids with their designer clothes and Fords with big stereos

and shiny alloy wheels.? The

particular problem with David was that he saw fault with these people who were

popular and knew he was a good person really and was better than the prats in

his class.? He had an open mind, was not

racist or homophobic, in his eyes he was very idyllic, the perfect man for any

woman.? Just then his thoughts were

halted as he heard the horn of a BMW yell at him because he had walked straight

in front of it.? He told himself to wake

up, stop pondering life and get home safely.?

His

thoughts turned to more trivial things like the homework he had to do that

evening, dreaded geography, the homework he had been putting off for ages.? Its not that he couldn?t do it, but the fact

he was as little motivated as he was happy.?

Something needed to happen, something to change the way he thought,

something to make him a content pers ??JOHN? shrieked the voice, ?Turn your computer off and go

to bed NOW?.? John knew his mum would be

asleep in two seconds so took no attention.?

But the damage was done, his flow had been disrupted.? He was trying to write a piece of creative

writing for English.? Easier said than

done.? He thought he would just leave it

until tomorrow and finish it then, so off went the computer without even

finishing the word he was last typing.In bed John was thinking about what he wrote.? He enjoyed going to sleep as it used to give

him the peace and quiet to think.? It

gave him time to gather his thoughts, consider the latest events in his

life.? Put these events into the bigger

picture of things.According to him the piece of writing he had just done was

going nowhere.? But he didn?t want to

write the straight forward piece of over descriptive drivel that most other

people were writing in his class or the lame fantasy piece of writing that

dealt with no issues or had no relevance on anyone.? This left him in a predicament.?

He fell asleep.The next day he woke up feeling like a piece of crap, but

that is only because it?s the morning.?

Thinking about the day ahead and the problems he had to overcome like

the lack of DT coursework, the hassle of basically having to overcome boredom,

John struggled out of bed. Only due to the sheer shock of seeing its 7:50.? Like every school day he did the usual.? The list was:? Get semi dressed in shirt and trousers plus the essentials, walk

into his Mum?s bedrooms and say good morning in a pleasant way, go to bathroom

and do the make yourself look semi presentable thing and then pack your bag,

look at the fact its raining, moan, put on tie and coat, and then go to school.School normally followed a similar style list: Arrive, be

miserable, make excuses for lack of work, go ?Doh!!!!? in the style of Homer

Simpson at news of coursework that needs to be done, complain about the poor

standard of the school with your mates secretly knowing that you are talking

bollocks and just simply carry on.Back at home the time came to finish the Piece of Creative

Writing: ten thirty at night.? Left to

the last moment.? John?s first thought

was to carry on with the piece of writing he had started earlier, but looking

back at it he could not see an end to the story. He thought this will get me no

marks, just a strange look from the teacher.John carried on pondering what to write, the thought came

into his head of nothingness.? He did

not have a clue what to write.? He got

so desperate he looked on the internet for essays, but these essays were just

the sort of dribble he so resented.?

Time passed away slowly but steadily, 10:45, 11:00 until he became

desperate.? If everyone else is doing

these essays why can?t I?? After all

they still get good marks for them.? So

John turned on his computer, loaded up Microsoft Word 2000 and began to write:It

was a dark stormy winters night, the wind howled and made the trees whistle hymns

of anger.? This made Steve feel

scared.? Almost as if he was being

followed by some dark entity intent on bringing him harm and distress to his

life, but he kept on walking. Making his way home through the alleyway with

unknown outcomes around every twist and kink.?

He crept slowly forward, always being tentative because after all

anything could happen, a big bald guy wearing a balaclava could jump out from

behind a bin and beat him up, a big green alien could fall down from space and

demand to see his leader, the world could explode.John let out a silent cry of despair as he thought he

would never get this piece of coursework done.?

At this time he just realised that maybe he could not write a piece of

creative writing.? He had tried but had

to face up to the fact that maybe he was just incapable.? So instead of worrying and wasting time he

gathered what he had wrote, compiled it together in a Word document, linked it

together with some writing about not being able to do a Piece of Creative

Writing, entitled it ?Hopefully a Piece of Creative Writing?, printed it off

and handed it in.? All the time hoping,

just hoping it would get him an A or an A*.

31f