In college, I majored in Creative Writing, mainly because I thought that eating was for the weak. In my fiction-writing courses, however, I found myself confused and upset to discover that the majority of my classmates neither read nor had the ability to write a coherent story if it would save their life. Most days I spent working with these people were filled with frustration. And idiots, for which I have a low tolerance.
I often felt as though my instructer were the only other person in the room as full of disappointment and sorrow as I was.
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