So recently I was assigned to write a 750-1000 word essay about myself for my English class, talking about my family, beliefs, thoughts on school (tehe thoughts on school), career plans, hobbies, etc. and it got me thinking. I talk about myself all the time. All teenagers do it. All people do it. Does that make us selfish? While I sat there, typing a paper for three hours on the night before because I enjoy procrastination (the word is tattooed on my forehead. Just kidding), I thought to myself, does listing random facts really give my life a definition? Am I really doing myself justice? Does anyone really give a flipinflap? While I did say that I am a Christian, who my family was, that I like to write, and other stuff, I was really thinking about the people and stories that got me to where I was. They weren't listed. Mostly because I had to keep this thing between 750-1000 words (it ended up at 1493), but still. I gave it a cheesy and bombastic title and turned it in dissati...
Abby. Film nerd trying to figure out what movies actually mean.