:: a.whisper.in.water ::

:: Monday, November 17, 2003 ::

[ something old, something true ]

Two reasons not to post:

1. Life is boring, and your daily routine isn't worth the 5 minutes it takes to detail it, because why bother? You're going to be doing it your whole life; it's not as though it needs to be written down, because it's never going to stop.

2. Life is too hectic to attempt to capture it all while immersed in it, and can only be catalogued upon clambering to shore, and wringing out one's shirt into an entry.

I'm really glad I don't have to swim anymore. Here's an old high school essay I'm posting for the sake of declaring one's intent to post later.

***

I wish I could claim that any given event changed my entire life and recount the event with all sorts of extravagant language and excessive detail. I wish I could just melodramatically relate the time I went to the Potomac River with Phil (you’d like old Phil) and played baseball with sticks and debris and caught five tadpoles (John, Paul, George, Ringo, and Eric) by cutting the top off an old soda bottle with Phil’s car keys. But maybe others would rather hear about the time I won first place at foreign extemporaneous speaking at the Mid-Atlantic tournament last year and everyone stood up and clapped and cheered and I had my Yoda tie around my head like a ninja headband and all I could think was that the win was luck and that some other kid deserved it. But if I did, I’d cheat the time a conflict with my mother turned physical and I ran away from home and waited for a ride from a friend on my street corner, teary-eyed and soaked from the freezing rain, biting my lip and trying to appear nonchalant as cars that weren’t my ride passed by.

Not to mention the rest of my life.

I wish I could reminisce on my childhood love for Astronomy and announce my allegiance to the scientific community. I wish I could confidently say that I’m going to use 10 years of piano lessons and a sense of rhythm that forever taps my fingers to revolutionize modern music. I wish I could proclaim from my proverbial rooftop about how the Debate Team changed my life and brought me to realize how I’m destined to be a lawyer or a congressman. I wish I could extrapolate false significance from all my talents and quirks and write an absolutely unrepresentative essay about “why I can never hang up a phone first” or “how musically gifted I am on account of my perfect pitch.” I wish I could saunter into the essay with my John Lennon impersonation that I pulled on customers on late Sunday nights at Starbucks and crack joke after empty joke and charm my way into college.

I can’t. I couldn’t lie and attach meaning to the insignificant, nor do I want to; I’ll take my chances with the truth. No single event could stand for my existence, nor could one pursuit summarize some direction I don’t have. I’m not going to join the ranks of students who have consigned themselves to a fate while still immature. Though I don’t know what I want to become, I hope to find some sort of environment that encourages variety and self-motivation, and hey, I’ve read the booklet.

Hi. I’m Aziz Khan.

Old college application essay. Steal and rightfully claim the title of wankbag as thine own.

:: Aziz 5:31 AM [+] ::
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