Amidst savage ravaging, romping stomping, and the frantic ranting that embodied one of my favorite teachers, Mr. Conti, there was always one simple saying more discernable than the rest, booming through his room like a train coming through the tracks: "Nobody even takes the time to think anymore!" Although me and Mr. Conti disagree on many things, we find this subject to be the one true respite in a trail of meaningless arguments, and despite the early year at which he professed his inner secrets of the world to my trembling freshman clas.s, they took root. Now, as a senior, the roots have grown into a full tree, a tree that has invoked my full attention - nay wrath - upon the course that our pathetic modern day society has chosen to head. I have always believed in the power of writing, so I make this plea for help, and change. Alas! It can not be that I am the only one is that is troubled by the outward monotony that our brave new world has become; I write to you, not as a college board, but as fellow artists amongst the sea of fading grey.
In the schools, kids fall into social groups that often resemble hostile ant hills: each exactly the same when it comes down to it, each so sure that they are ultimately right and the others are ultimately wrong, and each unable to take a step back, and comprehend the reality of the situation. On a contemplative plane, the jocks are no different, than the Goths, or the emos, or the wiggers, nerds, or the druggies. Each feels that they have found the final solution to life: whether it be "football is god" or "government should go die," nobody ever actually takes a step back, and f***ing LOOKS at what they're doing, and why they are doing it. It is enough to make any true thinker fell like the dragonfly, flying over head, watching the stupidity of their motions of repetition, and monotony.
Ironically, the product of intellect is technological advancement. It also happens to be the greatest enemy of intellect. In a modern day society, there's really no need to think. Who writes epics for the love of their life when you can just text her? Who stops to smell the roses when they're going 60 miles per hour on a freeway? Who creates great works of art when they can just snap a candid photo, and have equal effect on their dulled, monotonous audiences? Technology has become the world of instant gratification. When you need a song to impress a girl, you don't write one from your soul, you just download it. When you're hungry, you spend no thoughts on how to create the greatest feast known to mankind - you merely stop off at Burger King, and grab a large pile of fat, with a side of sodium, and medium cup of sugar.
Our own laws tear us apart more than the sugar of the medium coke tears apart our teeth. What ever happened to good old fashion Christianity? Its *** got burned by our own laws. Individuals, their own greed being their sole demigod, create law suits that slowly determinate the American values that we used to hold not only as true, but as SELF EVIDENT. "In god we trust," said the founding fathers to their naive sons of generations to p***, and yet now it is in the dollar that we place our trust, rather than in than the message engraved in fading green upon its back.
All the things that man holds dear, like a trembling little boy, clutching it's safety blanket with sweaty hands: social interactions, technology, speed, money, instant gratification...they are all the unnatural opiates of the soul, numbing our thought process, and creating a multi-grey shadow impressed upon the sky of inhuman personalities. Explosions of inactivity, and numbness climax in the night sky as America closes its eyes! Great fire! War! Chaos! None of these great saviors have yet peaked a spike of interest out of the grey monotony. Nothing short of a miracle could save mankind yet...and yet there is still hope. If those like you and I, who realize the doomed fate of our great nation of infants act out against the crippling decay of the modern day, then perhaps there is hope. And that is why this is not a college essay: This is a plea. Please help.
(Just fyi...i thought it would be an intresting approach to "ask for help" im not actually asking for help) please rate/edit? thanks.