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Romeo

Michael Romeo
Ms. Ingram
Writing 1101
3 December 2014
Peering into My Mind
So here I am once again. Frantically throwing sentences together to hand for yet
another writing assignment. But this one has one key difference, instead of conveying my
position on the typical thesis style paper; I will have to answer questions regarding how
this dis-harmonious process of my writing occurs. So sit back and relax, as you will peek
into the off-the-wall methods I use in my writing, and the incongruent measures I use to
assure my writing is good, at least to some.

When I find myself in a position of writing, I will always try to evoke the most

emotion from words as possible. I found this can be key in not only keeping the readers
attention, but also helps the flow, by emitting a harmonious arraignment of words that is
pleasing to the reader. While key to my style it may be, I try not to over-indulge in my
sophisticated and thought-provoking diction, only because if I sit here and use words you
have never heard of, yet may never see again until you peek into a dictionary, it will put the
most intellectual of readers to sleep. So my writing is more of a balancing act between
emotion and simplicity.

But in all good honesty, my writing was not as pleasing to the readers attention

span as it is now. Throughout my childhood, I would find myself doing the bare minimum
to pass the class in which I hated the most: English. For this class while in my youth posed
great barriers I thought were impenetrable - random commas, peculiar word structures,

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and above all else, reading assignments. While recollecting now, I now know that these
seemly meaningless tasks were for the best, but to a child whose mind was consumed with
Pokmon and cartoons, it seemed pointless. It was not until I read my first book by choice,
and not out of necessity when I realized that reading and writing could be a tool that I can
use to manipulate words to convey the deepest of thoughts. Physics of the Impossible it
was called, and the author, Michio Kaku, used words in such a way that they excelled the
beyond the page and resonated in my brain for weeks. His supernatural ability to
intertwine deep thoughts with emotion provoking ideas gave me a somewhat target for my
future writings to aim at. And as I am sitting here now, with steaming coffee to my side,
listening to classical music, I can say with confidence that I am continuing along this path of
godlike writing in which I hope to achieve in the distant future.

But this process did not come overnight. I would often find myself lost in the mist of

confusion, trying to disassemble assignments so I can consume there content, and

hopefully write a good paper. And when I was lost in my own mind, the only thing, at least
in my opinion, to clearing it, was a walk in nature. Simple it may be, but it would appear
that my most intricate of thoughts would come to me as would stroll through a forest path
or sitting on a bench, over-looking a pond. Peculiar it is, I will admit that, but I have come to
realize that nature is the greatest poet of all. The impeccable beauty and unmatched depth
that nature evokes transcends words, and in that process simplicity arises. It would seem
that next to my beloved author Kaku, nature is the best tool for great thought, and I utilize
it every chance I get.

So after my thoughts are collected, and I am ready to write, I nestle up in the

confines of my room, turn on some Bach, make a hot cup of Joe, and begin this fortuitous

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processing of writing a paper. Motionless for hours, I may sit at my computer, writing
sentences and reading them aloud; repeating this method until a paper arouses. But this
process is not as simple as it sounds. As I am in this task of writing there is a constant battle
being fought within my own mind. With half of my brain saying make it more complex, you
will appear smarter and the other half whispering simplify this crap so I can get on with
my life, I find myself in the age-old battle of simplicity and complexity. Finding the right
balance between the two is when a truly great paper is made.

And as it would appear, my writing is not perfect, nor do I except it to be. Even the

greatest of writers and poets have not been able to achieve that. But with my strengths of
diction and sentencing structures, comes my weaknesses of over-complexity and cogitated
thoughts not relevant to the paper at hand. I can ramble on and on about something, not
even having the slightest of meaning for the assignment I am working on. Consequently
enough, I may not even notice it until I have a page of text that the greatest of detectives
could not find the thought pattern I used to make the connection between the two. So in
hindsight, my writing has flaws, and I am perfectly fine with that. Because if it did not, I
would drive myself to certain insanity by writing book after book about the deep thoughts
that are clustered in my brain.

In terms of goals I have set for myself in the field of writing, there is but one I feel

that I must accomplish within my life time: a childrens book. Anyone can conjoin complex
vocabulary together and write to an audience of intellectuals, but writing for an audience of
kids would appear to be a greater task. For as a child I was fascinated with the short story
of Winnie the Pooh. Simple it may be to some, this combination of humor, morals, and good

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old fun, is something that I want to set my sights on. How A.A. Milne was able to hide depth
in a childs novel is something I may ever understand.

For it is when I am viewing myself as a writer, when confusion starts to flood my

brain. I cannot simply say that my style is this or that, but rather a combination of many
forces acting on my writing style. And I think this idea holds true for almost everyone who
is not a Shakespeare or a Twain. Just as I love reading books of various genres, my writing
is various styles intertwined by my own life experiences.

But if I was to look at all the genres of writing, which there are a lot, and choice one

in which I like the most, it would have to be song lyrics. This may appear outlandish to
some, but anyone who can write depth within the confines of a few minutes deserves
anyones respect. Take for example, Jonathan Davis, the lead singer from Korn. The raw
emotion he puts into his songs, to me is mind-blowing. For I feel that listening to music has
a sort of tranquilizing effect on the human mind, and Davis plays with this idea quite often.
So I guess I could say that this is the most appealing quality I can observe in writing. Being
able to evoke true emotion through the use of words is an art form, and one I hope to
obtain in the future.

But I cannot sit here and say that this ludicrous style of which my writing is

consisted of is generated by just my mind alone that would be a lie in and off itself. My
hunger for intelligence, that I try to incorporate into my style, was established when I was
but a mere boy going to his grandmothers house. Grandma Anne was her name, and her
ability to amalgamate her knowledge gained as a teacher, with the love only a grandma
could evoke, helped my hunger for knowing more about life. For it was every Sunday all of
the family would go over to her house to have dinner. And as a student learning from a

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teacher, progressively she began to talk to me in a more sophisticated manner as the years
progressed. Strangely enough, every time I pick up the phone to check in, she appears even
more intelligent, as if between phone calls, she is reading an encyclopedia. So I guess I can
summarize that, if anyone, she has been the driving force pushing me to excel beyond what
I think of myself, not just in writer, but also as a person.