Numero dos

A lot of learning has taken place over the past month or so. I should really be trying to internalize pointless knowledge for college at the moment. Exams encroaching in single figure days. I think the comprehensive education system in this country is so out of touch with reality it borders on lunacy. My experience of it is timed exams, where knowledge is to be memorized and then regurgitated. A uniform set of rules which renders any slightly creative and reflective person utterly useless, writing is for jumping hoops and "signposting", not expression and understanding. I have realized why I fail to succeed in my more recent exams, I start off with an initial plan, but my wandering, tangential mind has a plan of it's own.

Here is my problem:
When handwriting an essay, the initial vision we start off with seems unchangeable and precise. Although the act of pen on paper in itself changes this vision, clouding the previously clear path and gently stratifying the novices from the Wordsworths. It is the difficulty of this process which I respect most about writers, how close they can get their finished product to the initial cognition they once had. It is this very skill I am incapable of. Typing on computers is easy, you can delete, add, format and consolidate, but writing is beautifully different. The restrictions of pen and paper make each passage unique and personal. I lust after the ability to write, and I am so intrigued by language, but my new found love of literature seems too little, too late. My writing technique is now part of me and seems uneager to change. Woe is me!