Lonely. That’s how these testing days always seem to be. The fluorescent lights flood the room, painting the gray walls grayer and draining the room of any contrast or visual stimulation. These drones chatter around me, and I drift off into my own self, working with maximum efficiency, then drifting off again into my mind, aided by the classroom’s silence. Today, in this solitude, I read Brave New World. I feel as though the word “read” doesn’t do justice to Huxley’s work, however. As I digested the book, I was overcome with the urge to write. Not simply regurgitate thoughts and grievances onto a keyboard. I wanted to write with eloquence, in a way that would consume the entirety of someone’s attention until the very last syllable.
The novel called my attention to the beauty that comes in the form of the vocalization of words; something about the way a person’s lips and tongue shape these exhalations creates a euphony, provided these words can be strung together in a pleasing way. This vocalization and euphoria of sound is apparent even in text. As you read this now, the mind mimics those sounds and utterances and, depending on how well I end up drafting this, creates a symphony of sounds and syllables that are perceived as pleasing. Often, the human singing voice is compared to a musical instrument, but I find this extends to good writing and literature as well. As long as one has the patience to savor every word in how it is written, rather than taking shortcuts and removing all passion from the words.
On the board during the test, Ms. Jones scrawled, “you can read ur book or take a nap when ur done.”
O, brave new world that has such people in it.
How can our society be so advanced, so intellectually superior, yet at the same time, so incredibly idiotic. The old adage is “things have to get worse before they get better.” I believe the opposite. I believe that these advances in technology and art must come first. Only then can they be disrespected and taken for granted. I sit in a room full of Epsilons, pupils with little to no regard for the beauty in language and speech. And this woman, this older woman, a woman who should show some experience and respect for the art of literacy, writes the abbreviation ur. I don’t ask for a sprawling, elegant paragraph on the purpose of reading a novel or resting after completing the test, but for God’s sake, at least pretend you have some intelligence.
From now on, I’m striving to make my posts more eloquent and less conversational. I want to change my style, although style is subjective. Style isn’t determined by the author, I think, so much as the reader.
As always, I hope you enjoyed reading this if you took the time.
Goodnight.
