Do you see any potential contained by this?
It's a little something I wrote, sort of a felt a little inspired to write something after I saw my The Catcher within the Rye book laying around. What do you think? Grammatically it isn't perfect, this I wrote stale the top of my head. Do you see any potential. Answer preferable from people who know what they are talking more or less.
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Life doesn’t make all that much sense to me anymore. It seems as if everyday near are more causalities than ever and when I say causalities I mean all those poor bastards who live time in and day out like useless drones going to and fro as long as they live their poor excuse of a go. I hate for that to happen to me, or to anybody I cared around. Still, it seems as if life just have it out for everybody. For example my friend Pete, Pete Willenberg, he was the best damn guitar player I knew. He had so much potential, and consequently he went on falling for some dumb blonde tramp named Sylvia Hester. What a *****, the way she walk all fine and proper, then the next minute doing some dirt pod in his filthy Buick or Mustang. The tramp got him all hindered with weed. He’d talk about how it be all fine and dandy and that it won’t do **** to him. Then that’s all he’d do. Smoke all daylight and make some more excuses about how he will apply himself later. He never did apply himself. The finishing time I got to talk to him we got into this argument nearly how the weed and Sylvia was ******* with his life, later came the pushing and shoving until were both too hotheaded to do anything but spew dirty words at each other, afterwards he just got up and left. Later that dark he and Sylvia got drunk. Then an officer came knocking at matured Mr. and Mrs.Willenberg’s house; apparently they thought it was a bright idea to go out driving while buzzed as hell. Pete’s out-of-date Buick was found all busted up over at Telegraph Avenue, the street near our antediluvian high school; he drove into the oak tree we used to wait in the neighbourhood for the bus back in our elementary school days. Pete died instantly, but that ***** survived. That douche be my best friend.
When it came time for Pete’s funeral, I found myself incapable of going. I just sat up on the roof of my house staring out into the gray-filled sky. The house belonged to my grandparents. They have raised me since birth; they found both of my parents unsuitable to raise a child, so they took me in as their own. One light of day I came home and found my grandfather on the floor, my grandmother nearby. When the ambulance came they told us that he probably have a heart attack and that he was no longer going to wake up. She broke into tears and I just stood within. I couldn’t go to his funeral either. I guess I just own a hell of a way of showing my feelings. My grandmother thought it was best to freshly leave town to go and live with my aunt. She said she didn’t want to be burden to me, despite my masses attempts to dissuade her. She packed her things and left the house to me. It’s been five years since consequently. I still haven’t heard from her. Every now and then I would progress to the old oak tree. Nothing has changed; the tree was still nearby, remarkably still standing. You could see the major dent in the tree from the impact.
Answers:
It's pretty good, keep hold of working on it. I can see the Catcher in the Rye inspiration, which I like. Edit it as tightly as you possibly can and be careful of run-on sentences. Some suggestions, basically from my point of view.
Life doesn’t make much sense to me anymore.
That takes out a few words that aren't required.
It seems as if everyday there are more causalities than ever. I'm talking nearly all those poor bastards who live every day like useless drones going to and fro as long as they live their poor excuse of a life span.
I cut that into two sentences which took out the word casualties the second time. You don't want to repeat a word twice in a sentence. You could also just say Pete Williamsberg, lacking repeating Pete.
Here's another run-on sentence shortened and split up.
The last time I talked to him we got into this argument in the order of how the weed and Sylvia was ******* with his life. It turned into pushing and shoving until be both too hotheaded to do anything but spew dirty words at each other. Then he just left.
It's not desperate grammatically, I just wanted to offer suggestions for tightening it. I really similar to it, good luck!
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Page Number for these Quotes from The Alchemist?
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Life doesn’t make all that much sense to me anymore. It seems as if everyday near are more causalities than ever and when I say causalities I mean all those poor bastards who live time in and day out like useless drones going to and fro as long as they live their poor excuse of a go. I hate for that to happen to me, or to anybody I cared around. Still, it seems as if life just have it out for everybody. For example my friend Pete, Pete Willenberg, he was the best damn guitar player I knew. He had so much potential, and consequently he went on falling for some dumb blonde tramp named Sylvia Hester. What a *****, the way she walk all fine and proper, then the next minute doing some dirt pod in his filthy Buick or Mustang. The tramp got him all hindered with weed. He’d talk about how it be all fine and dandy and that it won’t do **** to him. Then that’s all he’d do. Smoke all daylight and make some more excuses about how he will apply himself later. He never did apply himself. The finishing time I got to talk to him we got into this argument nearly how the weed and Sylvia was ******* with his life, later came the pushing and shoving until were both too hotheaded to do anything but spew dirty words at each other, afterwards he just got up and left. Later that dark he and Sylvia got drunk. Then an officer came knocking at matured Mr. and Mrs.Willenberg’s house; apparently they thought it was a bright idea to go out driving while buzzed as hell. Pete’s out-of-date Buick was found all busted up over at Telegraph Avenue, the street near our antediluvian high school; he drove into the oak tree we used to wait in the neighbourhood for the bus back in our elementary school days. Pete died instantly, but that ***** survived. That douche be my best friend.
When it came time for Pete’s funeral, I found myself incapable of going. I just sat up on the roof of my house staring out into the gray-filled sky. The house belonged to my grandparents. They have raised me since birth; they found both of my parents unsuitable to raise a child, so they took me in as their own. One light of day I came home and found my grandfather on the floor, my grandmother nearby. When the ambulance came they told us that he probably have a heart attack and that he was no longer going to wake up. She broke into tears and I just stood within. I couldn’t go to his funeral either. I guess I just own a hell of a way of showing my feelings. My grandmother thought it was best to freshly leave town to go and live with my aunt. She said she didn’t want to be burden to me, despite my masses attempts to dissuade her. She packed her things and left the house to me. It’s been five years since consequently. I still haven’t heard from her. Every now and then I would progress to the old oak tree. Nothing has changed; the tree was still nearby, remarkably still standing. You could see the major dent in the tree from the impact.
Answers:
It's pretty good, keep hold of working on it. I can see the Catcher in the Rye inspiration, which I like. Edit it as tightly as you possibly can and be careful of run-on sentences. Some suggestions, basically from my point of view.
Life doesn’t make much sense to me anymore.
That takes out a few words that aren't required.
It seems as if everyday there are more causalities than ever. I'm talking nearly all those poor bastards who live every day like useless drones going to and fro as long as they live their poor excuse of a life span.
I cut that into two sentences which took out the word casualties the second time. You don't want to repeat a word twice in a sentence. You could also just say Pete Williamsberg, lacking repeating Pete.
Here's another run-on sentence shortened and split up.
The last time I talked to him we got into this argument in the order of how the weed and Sylvia was ******* with his life. It turned into pushing and shoving until be both too hotheaded to do anything but spew dirty words at each other. Then he just left.
It's not desperate grammatically, I just wanted to offer suggestions for tightening it. I really similar to it, good luck!
Related Questions:
Page Number for these Quotes from The Alchemist?
A. ¡°There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to carry out: the fear of failure.¡±B. ¡°And, when you want something, all the universe conspires surrounded by helping you to achieve it.¡±C. ¡°Every search begins next to beginners luck and ends with the victor¡¯s being severely tested.¡±D. ¡°To realize one¡¯s destiny is a...
Is it impressive to spend a few hours reading at Barnes & Noble?
Last night, I went to Barnes & Noble (my favorite store in the world) on my downtime to do some adjectives reading. Towards the time I got ready to leave, I asked the guy surrounded by the music section about an album that was playing. He said he...