Status: This is my first ever attempt at creative writing outside of school so all critiques are welcomed!
So On and So Forth
Dreams
Dreams
One thing I've learned so far is that dreams change. What's that? You didn't expect me to get all heavy on you so fast? Well time is money, and I don't have the funds to play around. There is really only one person who taught me this lesson, and it is my dear friend Hanna.
Hanna, myself, and most of the people I will mention in this book are all students at the Claire Lewis Academy of Substantial Skills, or at least they were when I wrote this. The Claire Lewis Academy of Substantial Skills, or CLASS, is a public school alternative, in which you learn a certain skill like hairdressing, automotive, or wearing clothes that look like they are the uniform, but are really just skimpy black, white, or blue polos. In this program, you spend half of your time in your shop, and half of your time taking academic classes like math.... English... I think there's science... Anyways, Hanna and I were in Culinary Arts along with 90% of our friends.
Freshman year, Hanna had a clear goal of becoming a pastry chef and opening some kind of bakery. Sophomore year, she decided that cooking just wasn't for her and that she really wanted to be a surgeon. Well that changed after someone came to our school to demonstrate how to correctly butcher a deer. If I remember correctly, she left the presentation after about 3 minutes. Junior year she had an epiphany and decided that maybe she should take her love of musical theater (just one of our many similarities) and make a career out of it. Well, talent is a definite job requirement which, sadly, the both of us lack. As of yet, Hanna has applied to about 11 schools and is eagerly awaiting their replies. There is a lesson in here, I promise.
I don't know if she knows, but Hanna is honestly one of the most incredible people I know. If my dreams and goals had been altered that many times, I would probably have a nice white jacket and a nice room made of Snuggies. But not her. She can probably tell you better than everyone that dreams, just like stars, die, and that it may be sad, but there are still millions of them left. And that is why Hanna is on my short and honorable list of heroes. (That's another chapter, don't worry.)
One thing I've learned so far is that dreams change. What's that? You didn't expect me to get all heavy on you so fast? Well time is money, and I don't have the funds to play around. There is really only one person who taught me this lesson, and it is my dear friend Hanna.
Hanna, myself, and most of the people I will mention in this book are all students at the Claire Lewis Academy of Substantial Skills, or at least they were when I wrote this. The Claire Lewis Academy of Substantial Skills, or CLASS, is a public school alternative, in which you learn a certain skill like hairdressing, automotive, or wearing clothes that look like they are the uniform, but are really just skimpy black, white, or blue polos. In this program, you spend half of your time in your shop, and half of your time taking academic classes like math.... English... I think there's science... Anyways, Hanna and I were in Culinary Arts along with 90% of our friends.
Freshman year, Hanna had a clear goal of becoming a pastry chef and opening some kind of bakery. Sophomore year, she decided that cooking just wasn't for her and that she really wanted to be a surgeon. Well that changed after someone came to our school to demonstrate how to correctly butcher a deer. If I remember correctly, she left the presentation after about 3 minutes. Junior year she had an epiphany and decided that maybe she should take her love of musical theater (just one of our many similarities) and make a career out of it. Well, talent is a definite job requirement which, sadly, the both of us lack. As of yet, Hanna has applied to about 11 schools and is eagerly awaiting their replies. There is a lesson in here, I promise.
I don't know if she knows, but Hanna is honestly one of the most incredible people I know. If my dreams and goals had been altered that many times, I would probably have a nice white jacket and a nice room made of Snuggies. But not her. She can probably tell you better than everyone that dreams, just like stars, die, and that it may be sad, but there are still millions of them left. And that is why Hanna is on my short and honorable list of heroes. (That's another chapter, don't worry.)
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