pregunta

Ok so I'm about done with my MIT application stuff. There's one optional essay, though, one of those "if there's anything esle about you you think we should know let us know" prompts, and though there's no word limit, it's like 800 words. SO I was wondering if you guys could just give, you know, editing goodness and whatnot. I'd appreciate it.

To whom it may concern:

It has come to my attention that communication is highly overrated. This coming from a lifelong mumbler, I know a few things about the strengths and weaknesses of the spoken and written word.
The first problem is languages. As there are easily hundreds of modern, antiquated, regional and personal tongues, a lack of knowledge can cause a great hindrance in production. Oh sure, Italian and Spanish are similar with their Latin roots and such, but they’re still different and an incoherent blurb is produced during attempted communication. What we need to do is develop a universal language, one that everyone can learn while maintaining the historical merits of older dialects. Whether this is English or binary or Japanese, I have no idea, but language can create serious issues.
But even if we all knew the same language, there would still be obstacles to tackle. Personal experience comes into play here. I’ve been a mumbler all my life, and I’m not ashamed to say it. My mother and teachers and friends would say it’s because I only open my mouth a little so the words come out all jumbled and inaudible. In a strange way, though, that is what makes me unique. Ever since who-knows-when I’ve been the quiet kid, the one who would raise his hand and wait to be called on by teacher, the kid who waited quietly in the line until everyone else shut up so we could go outside and play, the one who followed the rules to the letter, even in drama class. But now I see words as just a single, solitary method to portray oneself. Screw the BS essay I was talking about earlier, because it in no way really emphasizes who I am.
Although, I must admit, haze has its strong points.
Earlier this year I wrote a résumé for my counselor (It was mandatory- everyone was supposed to do it) and it concluded with me saying that if the colleges I apply to don’t give a crap about the people behind the matriculated numbers, then I couldn’t devote the self they don’t know to its full potential. Right now, for me, college is just a cold, drafty set of buildings. In order for it to have warmth, it needs a face, something familiar. As a futile attempt, I shall offer up my face to you in hopes to receive the same. They say to do unto others as you would have them do unto you, but no one says “unto” anymore.
You know my name is Mitch Wilson, so I don’t have to start with that. I am at odds with myself, facing this epic quest to determine my interpretation of mankind. I want to believe that people are essentially good, but everywhere I turn it seems lay the antitheses. The other night I think a young woman tried to rob us, but I guess she did a crappy job.
And we all know my test scores are satisfactory and whatnot, but there are the things no test can measure. My friends think I have a dirty mind. At 18, I cannot drive. Every time I go to a public restroom I am deathly worried about accidentally wetting myself. I’m probably the best DDR dancer in my school for my weight division. My class voted me Homecoming Duke sophomore year, and for a prize I received one of those glow sticks you put around your neck. It was a very pretty shade of green, but it started to leak when I got home and the carpet looked like an investigative crime scene…
But there is only so much paper can say. This is me. I’m gullible and like garlic, but pull out the onions in my onion rings. I hate salads and can only eat my cheeseburgers with cheese on top. The best mozzarella sticks I’ve found are at Arby’s. There is an Arby’s up there, right? I sure hope so. But as long as I can look up at night and see the stars, I think I’d be all right.
I’m a blogger, a hopeless romantic, and apparently don’t know how to spell since my word processor has tried to correct me some forty times by now. And I fear I’m going to come off as sarcastic and not intellectual enough, and to that I say, “Fine. It’s your loss.”
The interview process gave me a great opportunity to meet an MIT alum, but even there I feel I might’ve given off the wrong impression, but I don’t know where I’m going with this. I li country mrsic an stuff li tha. But what’s mos imprtan to me is the fac that I can speak my min an potenshly shammy word with othus.

Thank you for your time and effort,

Mitch Wilson

How is it? I need constructive criticism here.

Oh and Laramie was so awesome. Annie was so good that she deserved two Chia pets! I am so glad I went to see it. Except, frankly this is the part that surprised me most, I didn't cry. I think I was just trying to block out the sad stuff, like when Danny was playing Matt's dad and he was talking about all the friends he had out there with him- the sky and the city lights and stuff- I was trying to think of how chhesy it sounded on a superficial level so as not to get to attached to it.

But I loved the mirror stuff. Whose idea was that? After all, this is art imitating life, and we tend to forget to relate the art we perceive back to real life. Damn, this is exactly my thesis for our English final. I did H.o.D. What did you do?