A history of boring

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I have never enjoyed writing papers. I would always try something to get out of writing the full length that was required. I once took a book report paper from the previous year, and simply incorporated it into a 17 page paper that I was having a lot of unnecessary frustration with. I say unnecessary because I never tried to write
the paper, I only stared at the requirement sheet and screamed in my mind. I have gotten over this type of frustration though, and I seem to be more open to writing. The change is inexplicable, in the same way as when you are young and you strongly dislike a food, so you never try it, but then one day, a few years from then you try it again and almost enjoy it. But don’t worry, I have written a paper within the last year.


I enjoy research papers the very least, because when I write, my thoughts come from a quick stream of ideas, rather than looking for information to learn about myself. I suppose I am not very good at this free style of writing that I am describing, because I find it too easy. Also, I have absolutely no idea what to look for in a paper. I seem to have acquired an ability to ramble, however my rambling may at times sound interesting. This helps me take up space.


I often find myself typing word combinations that I would not normally speak out loud. Whether this is a problem or not, I don’t know. Perhaps the better thing to do would be to begin talking similar to the way I type. I think there has always been part of me that has loved getting my thoughts down on
paper, but my lazy instincts that are so supported today, usually tell me otherwise.





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