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Anna141This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. posted this thread...
May 1, 2013 at 8:04 pm

(I will give something of yours feedback if you leave a link at the bottom of your comment). This is a something that I wrote for school. If you leave a comment please give me an honest opinion. If you like it please tell me why, and if you don't like it please also tell me why. Thank you!
    I am what I am. I am the holder of spider web see-through hands when I get nervous, even though there is nothing to be afraid of. I am a sailor who will only go out in fair weather, and is rather bad at sailing: so I am a capsizer. But I am good at righting the boat once it flips. I am what I am.

     I am poor at math, (very poor at math, in fact if my math skills were a person they would probably be living under an overpass somewhere). And I really don’t care as long as I get a good grade in the class. I am what I am. I am a procrastinator who is very good at their craft. I am horrible at fashion, but I love clothes. I am what I am. I’m a believer that everybody gets a lifetime, what they do with it should be up to them. Because everybody is good for something. Even if all that something is, is converting oxygen into carbon dioxide. I am what I am. I am Irish, and German, and English, and probably a little Scottish too. This is the part where I should tell you that I have some strong heritage that I’m proud of, and no one can take that away from me, but I’m pretty much just white when it all comes down to it. I am what I am.

    I’m highly critical of myself and I could probably sit here and write you a long list of things that I’m bad at. But a compliment doesn’t slide so easily off of my tongue, and I don’t know why. I am what I am.

     I love to look at the stars at night, but I hate to go camping. Though I prefer the water to the ground just about any day. I like to sit on the heeled-over side of a boat, and dangle my feet in the water as waves go by. Splashing little droplets of water, each a thousand tiny diamonds onto my ankles. I bet I’d be a really fast runner if I liked to run. But I don’t, and most of the time I won’t unless I am being chased by a bear; then I’ll run. Otherwise I’ll walk. Running to me is like math, and I care for neither. I am what I am.

    I like words better than numbers. There is only one number for π, and one answer for 2+2, but there are a thousand ways to say happy. Like serendipitous, joyous, bright, cheery, and content. I like words, but I also like being brief. Why would you use twenty words when one will be sufficient? So I really have no idea how this piece got so long. Also I am a horrible speller and I figure the less words on the paper, the less can be misspelled. I am what I am.

    I may know what I am, but who I am is a whole different writing assignment. Nobody can tell me who that is because I don’t really know myself. And if they tried I would take pity on them because I’m probably too stubborn to listen to them anyway.

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