Right now it's 6:55 PM and I'm anxiously trying to write 250 words to get the saving grace grade of 40/40. This is actually me right now:
Instead of writing about a broad topic of social injustices as I planned on, I'm going to have you, the readers, be my therapist, as Spiegelman so desperately needed in Volume 2 of Maus. Spiegelman said, "instead of working on my book I just lie on my couch for hours and stare at a small grease spot on the upholestery," (Volume II, page 43). This mirrors my situation, but instead of book it's my blog, and instead of lying on the couch for hours I sit on the couch for hours and watch "Gotham".
Every weekend, I feel the impending doom of the blog post coming up. While I do enjoy the feeling of satisfaction as encouraging comments come in, I feel as though every post has to be better than the next. Every post has to reach more comments than the last. And when they don't...
That means I did something wrong this time |
I like this blog post. Rebellious but fun. Relatable, too. Very enjoyable to read!
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