Ch. 1

I used to think it took a certain flair to be a writer in the honest-to-god sense. But as I take the time to not only analyze myself but the other aspiring and experienced writers that surround me, it really seems less complicated than it did before. If you can structure a sentence, sprinkle apostrophes in appropriate places and be a bit of a smart-ass, then you're already well on your way. As long as you can still get your message across, spelling doesn't exactly come into play. For all I know, the cute little abbreviations and intentional slurs that plague the English language these days are improvements rather than mistakes, and over time humans will spew a kind of verbal code that resembles the sound a computer makes when you first turn it on. I've always been curious to see how words and the way we communicate them will evolve over time, but as far as I can tell, different accents and lingual trends seem to be gaining far too much influence. Though, when you take a good look around, you'll also come to realize that being stupid is the easiest way out of everything. Stupid and otherwise lazy people are given quite an abundant number of second chances and easy breaks that they generally don't deserve or really need. I should know, I've feigned stupidity for the last three years or so, though in the last year I only keep to the facade when I'll get something out of it. Not to extremes, of course, only to a certain point. In all honesty, given some genuine effort, I could be a top student in the classroom. Is there any fun to be had in that? No, which is why I never did it, albeit some times inevitable. See, being ignorant in certain aspects leaves more room for wandering creativity. And whether it be good or bad, an artistic intuition is superior to knowledge.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The start of something ever-so fitting.

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