I am trying a new writing style, and want to see if this works (please give feedbacks as you see fit):
In the end, the monster remains. Yet, unknown forces balance the havocs of the monster. Shit. This is wrong – I meant to write an unknown force balances. Great, because of my original mistake of pluralizing force, my sentence is screwed – I need to add an an, get rid off an s, and add an s. It would be so much easier to fix it if I had a computer to type this paper in. At least I found the error of my writing before I finished this essay, and thank God that I have my handy utensil to fix my mistakes. Oh man, I have to use the bathroom, I have to use the bathroom. No, I must fix my mistake first. I just need to make one simple stroke. I have to use the bathroom.
That was a huge relief. Now I can get back to my essay. What was I doing again? Oh yeah, fix my mistake. Got to get my trusty utensil and make one fell swoop. Where is it? I placed it right here, next to my calculator and mug of pencils. It should be here. It didn’t fall off the table, did it? Damn, only an Easter egg shell that usually comes with candy, minus the candy, is down there. Maybe I should pick them up before I step on the pointy edges? Agh, must concentrate. Where is that utensil? It can’t just have magically disappeared from my room like some kind of divine ghost who is just messing with me. Calm down Matthew, calm down. Where else can it be?
What is this feeling? Is she gazing at me? I am sorry grandma. I’m sorry that I lost the last gift that you gave to me. Please, forgive me. I promise you that I will find it. I promise that I will not forget you. I don’t want to forget you.
I remember the times when the utensil saved me by spilling out its substance when pressed upon; sometimes it would mysteriously be red when it is suppose to be white. I never asked it to aid me, but it did anyways. I like to think it was you, grandma, helping me out with my homework like you used to. It is one of the sickest present that you ever gave me; once it spontaneously leaped, you see, from my firm hands. It reminded me of the time you introduced me to a bar of soap when I was four. My friends tell me that my utensil is junk, but I know that it is a blast for me; I know that there is no better treasure out there. Man. If only I had not been distracted, then it would still be in my hand; my errors would have been fixed by now; I would have a less worrisome day; you would be enjoying your rest.
I know it will show up again – perhaps in three days, perhaps longer. I’m not certain when, but I am certain that I have to try my hardest not to make any more mistakes. It will be hell if I have to rewrite my whole paper.
Gender:
Points: 300
Reviews: 0