Read the question, look at all the different layers of verbs that it contains. Despair at the cryptic nature of it all, at the feeling that you're never going to be able to dig deep enough to decipher it. Then think about, and everything clears up.
At least that's how the process goes for me. Except that, if the process of an essay were to be mapped out on a time line, the despairing part would take up such a small amount of space at the beginning that you'd have to use a microscope to see that part of the line. If printed out, the fibers in the paper of that "despairing" section would be countable. So, even though at first glance writing that essay might seem like hell, it really is the quickest way to get from hell to heaven. Because then, after I think about it even the slightest bit, there's this leap for joy inside of me, like I'm jumping all the way past the clouds. Because I know I'll learn from it. I'll learn from it like crazy.
At least that's how the process goes for me. Except that, if the process of an essay were to be mapped out on a time line, the despairing part would take up such a small amount of space at the beginning that you'd have to use a microscope to see that part of the line. If printed out, the fibers in the paper of that "despairing" section would be countable. So, even though at first glance writing that essay might seem like hell, it really is the quickest way to get from hell to heaven. Because then, after I think about it even the slightest bit, there's this leap for joy inside of me, like I'm jumping all the way past the clouds. Because I know I'll learn from it. I'll learn from it like crazy.
It got to the point sometime last year - maybe even 7th grade - that I learned what my reaction always was to essays and realized that there was no point in even having that despairing time at all, because I'd learned, from experience, that I always learned from writing essays. I actually have to pull reality in to tell me, when I'm first handed that essay assignment sheet, that it could be hard, that I have to start working on it, that I should treat it as something hard so that I don't blow it off (or else I could get all creative-y on it, and that's certainly not what a history paper should be). But I've discovered this magic with essays - no matter how put down I might feel at some point about them, no matter how much I struggle, they always come together in the end. And sometimes I don't even know how. It's just magic - the magic of words.
And it's heaven when you realize something you didn't before because you had to write an essay analyzing, interpreting, or comparing it, or when you construct a perfect sentence, or use a perfect word, or it fits perfectly on the page. (Gosh, the smallest things can make me happy.)
I'm excited about finishing my Mid-Term Essay for World Civilizations. I might spend a considerable amount of my weekend on it, and I won't get a perfect grade on it (World Civ is like a second English class), but I'll learn from it, and that's what counts the most.
Plus, who wouldn't want to just give Hell a quick little nudge that sometimes doesn't even touch, and then soar up into the heights of Heaven to stay a good while?
Hmm, just realized that it's almost as if I'm saying you die when you write an essay...noo, that's not what I'm saying at all, because everything comes aLIVE when you write an essay.
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