Standard English Assess Task
ENGLISH ASSIGNMENT
Text 1
TREADING WATER
The end of semester is just days away. I should be cramming as usual, but my mind just won’t anchor. It drifts from scene to scene unsatisfied at every moment, a restless buoy in a swelling sea. I am a model student – what is the difference this time? The difference this time is that it is the last time.
Once more through the examination mill and then out I pop – an educated graduate. I can’t help but think that I feel more like an Uncle Toby’s Raspberry Roll-Up coming out flat at the other end.
The last few years have flown by in a spicy, rebellious fog of cigarette smoke and 5dollar cocktails. I’m not ready for the corporate smoke den. What have really accomplished?
A degree.
A degree of waste, unhappiness and boredom.
I wanted to study what I loved; instead, I chose what would guarantee my employment.
I chose numbers over words, and words over meaning.
Now I sit alone with my mistake. Now I have to forge hope out of my beaten-down heart.
I haven’t been feeding my soul. I’ve been poisoning it with convention.
Four years of conscientiousness and responsibility.
Four years of crowded classes, annoying assignments and exhausting exams.
Four years of stellar marks which fail to elicit any feeling of joy.
Four years listening to my voice getting smaller and smaller inside of me.
This is not you this is not you this is not you this is not you …
Four years has felt a lot like treading water. It hasn’t taken me anywhere. Except maybe back to myself.
Old passions and desires have been brewing just under the surface – boiling like vegetables in a pressure cooker. Getting so hot sometimes, I thought my skin would break. But every time I thought it would, someone released the valve just enough to stop me from exploding.
I could give in – admit a waste of time – but was it? If I am able to learn in anew short years what others take a lifetime to discover – that you must follow your desire
Text 1
TREADING WATER
The end of semester is just days away. I should be cramming as usual, but my mind just won’t anchor. It drifts from scene to scene unsatisfied at every moment, a restless buoy in a swelling sea. I am a model student – what is the difference this time? The difference this time is that it is the last time.
Once more through the examination mill and then out I pop – an educated graduate. I can’t help but think that I feel more like an Uncle Toby’s Raspberry Roll-Up coming out flat at the other end.
The last few years have flown by in a spicy, rebellious fog of cigarette smoke and 5dollar cocktails. I’m not ready for the corporate smoke den. What have really accomplished?
A degree.
A degree of waste, unhappiness and boredom.
I wanted to study what I loved; instead, I chose what would guarantee my employment.
I chose numbers over words, and words over meaning.
Now I sit alone with my mistake. Now I have to forge hope out of my beaten-down heart.
I haven’t been feeding my soul. I’ve been poisoning it with convention.
Four years of conscientiousness and responsibility.
Four years of crowded classes, annoying assignments and exhausting exams.
Four years of stellar marks which fail to elicit any feeling of joy.
Four years listening to my voice getting smaller and smaller inside of me.
This is not you this is not you this is not you this is not you …
Four years has felt a lot like treading water. It hasn’t taken me anywhere. Except maybe back to myself.
Old passions and desires have been brewing just under the surface – boiling like vegetables in a pressure cooker. Getting so hot sometimes, I thought my skin would break. But every time I thought it would, someone released the valve just enough to stop me from exploding.
I could give in – admit a waste of time – but was it? If I am able to learn in anew short years what others take a lifetime to discover – that you must follow your desire