My work on the multi-genre project was explicably excellent. I worked hard and I found out a lot about Aaron Burr. I researched two different books, ranging from soft cover to hard cover – no, they were both hard cover. Life was different in Aaron Burr’s day; that is another story. Back in the first semester I needed persistence to finish the multi-genre project due to my rampant drug use. I started off slow but finished like a cow making love to a horse just because it wanted to. Well, here we are now. Semesters come, semesters go. And fish love fish. In the third quarter my work on the play was again excellent due to my outstanding work as Oberon, king of the fairies. I worked hard to learn my lines but fell short during the presentation of the play, A Midsummer’s Night Dream. I edited beautifully with junior female Marcie Chianta. I also created a damn good program.
My hard work is displayed in my desire to become a mentor for someone who desires to have the qualities in which I pertain. To embellish the thoughts I pursue, day in and day out, are remarkable at that, if not genius. The tangibility of the cosine arc is represented in Jewish holidays throughout the year. I am not of the Jewish faith but I am a follower of all modern day religions, though in my mind, no such revelation exists. To live your life for a man, a god, a bird, or whatever seems funny, if not ridiculous. Life is nothing. Nothing is life. A series of coincidental events.
During the fourth quarter, I once again conquered what once could have been mine. I lost it so long ago. What that is is nothing less but determination. Determination is what a person needs to accomplish simply anything. “Do I want a PBJ sandwich?” Yes. “Do I have the determination to make the PBJ sandwich?” No. So I don’t make myself a PBJ sandwich. I believe there is only one thing I might have done to make my determination lower to the standards of a man who needs battery power to blow the smoke that emits from the burning of marijuana down his throat. Yes. Marijuana. Weed, pot, bud, mary jane, tree, ism. [“ism, ism, ism” – John Lennon, from ‘Give Peace A Chance’ circa 1969]. There is no doubt in my mind that marijuana smoking leads to procrastination, laziness, and lower self-determination. And with the amount of marijuana being inhaled, self-determination will decrease at a phenomenal rate. Why? Why smoke weed? Because smoking marijuana leads to answers being explained.
In the fourth quarter of my final year of English at Williamsville East, I wanted to do one thing: nothing. I did not complete the first writing assignment. I do not like the word “assignment.” I am not assigned to do anything. I choose what and what not to accomplish, and I chose not to. The next class, I found myself with the moment your teacher asks for proof of the completion of an assignment, and of course, I didn’t have any. “I don’t have it.” The moment is over. I had a feeling that day. A scholarly boy feeling. I leaned over to my classmate and said, “I’ve got to do the homework.” I’ve “got to” do homework. No, I chose to do homework. And that I did. I again had the determination to complete assignments (that word again). Sometimes they weren’t good but nonetheless, I completed them. And I did every assignment. So my goal was not met. I did something the fourth quarter of my senior year in English class. I got my determination back.
I’m doing it high or I’m not doing it at all. I made this statement to a friend of mine who retorted, “You’re crazy.” That was five months ago and how I ever lived up to that quote.
I jumped into the multi-genre project half-assed at that. My choice was not allowed. My plan was to write about John Lennon. As a sophomore, I started, what I now refer to as, my Beatlemania. I knew next to nothing about the four lads from Liverpool during the first few months of that year [I knew of the song ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’; if asked about Paul McCartney, I might have responded with “of the Monkees?”]. And now, I might just possibly know everything. The release of Anthology started the two and a half years of non-stop desire to learn more. Through cd purchasing, incessant research on the world wide web (keyword: beatles) and most helpful, the book The Lives of Lennon by Albert Goldman, I lived the life of the Beatles. And as a result, Lennon became an idol for me. From the Quarry Men to Help! to Imagine, John Lennon’s words moved me and many others and I would’ve liked to pay tribute by writing about him. When Mrs. Ruof told our class that no musicians are allowed and definitely not John Lennon (because everybody knows everything about him. And I quote: “We all know about Yoko.”), I said screw that. I could have given her information about John Lennon that would’ve made her fall out of her chair. From his anorexia to his bisexuality. And I would have written it in a way that would amaze her and me and half the class, because I truly wanted to. When Mrs. Ruof told our class at the beginning of the year that a project was going to be done about anyone we wanted, I nearly creamed in my pants. Finally I get a chance to write about John Lennon. The research I’ve done over the past few years is going to help me write a paper for English. That never happens. Self-exploration meets schoolwork. No way. But soon, disappointment came and I fell to my next choice – Jerry Rubin. Shutdown again. Because he’s still living, Mrs. Ruof told me. Turning away my choice because he’s still living is like not allowing Larry Bird on the NBA all-time 50 players list because he, too, has that problem. My next and final choice actually I stole from Scott Abramowski. It was his second choice, and when his first choice was also rejected, he had to fall to his third choice. My desire was gone to do this project. I researched Aaron Burr, but I understood John Lennon. To take away the students choice of topic based on career or mortality is absurd. Tyranny lives on. (No offense to Mrs. Ruof who I have utmost respect for but, c’mon.)
When I was done researching Aaron Burr, I was set and ready to do one great transformation. I also forked out an all right one, a half-done transformation, which had the preemptive to become a great one but I didn’t get around to finishing it (that determination factor again), and a sub par one. In the end, a grade of 84. Not bad for giving two shits about Aaron Burr. The grade was carried mostly by my one great transformation. It was an article about the dual between Burr and Alexander Hamilton. The article was designed as a newspaper from that era. I think that is why I got the grade I did.
When it was time to perform William Shakespeare’s play, an annual event which I had been part of the year before with Macbeth, I only wanted to make the program. But everyone needed to have an acting part so when asked, I requested Peaseblossom or Cobweb. I got Oberon. I can’t act to save my life from demise. I was an editor, which I wanted to do because of the requirement for the editors to produce the program. My main goal was to make a great program so I set my mind on that. And that’s all. I didn’t work on my acting role at all. A few days before the play when the program was set and done, I began to learn (or try to learn) my lines. I edited a few of my lines out to make this daunting task easier. The night before I wrote my lines on three-by-five cards and actually knew them all by heart by the time fourth period neared. Though when I walked on stage and began to speak my lines, I shut down like a turtle saying no to the beaver.
Well it’s all over now. High school has been fun. I have learned one important thing during high school: don’t wait too long for a phone call; sometimes it never comes. I plan on matriculating at Northeastern in the fall. “Till then I just cool me heels, smoke me ganja, watch the telly…”