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finalvocabpaper - of his nostalgic lectures. He always...

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Sean Litchfield Dr. Janet Gillespie ENG101 December 6, 2007 I woke with a fairly neutral mood this morning. The clouds began to precipitate and the rain fell gently to my roof. I was cognizant of my ominous feeling of what today would be like. However, I wanted to eradicate my awareness. My project was due for my extremely fastidious photo teacher. I had a prolific assortment of images to turn in but I wasn’t complacent with my self that I would pass. After all, he had the authoritarian power to fail me. My status quo was at an all time low. He was the boss and his students were just a rabble with no skill. He did have very unorthodox ways of teaching. His nihilistic belief system was indicative of his teaching styles. He didn’t believe that we could accomplish anything with out his help. Oh, the rancor I felt towards him. Not once was I engrossed in his lectures. I simply waited for the recapitulation
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Unformatted text preview: of his nostalgic lectures. He always seemed to get off topic and talk about how he was growing up with only a small pinhole camera and how great he was in school. I got to class late despite the expedient MBTA. The luminous flagrant sun shined through the windows nearly blinding me. I perused the syllabus and noticed that I had to do a photo series on how the Apocalypse is near. This was crap! I knew if I offered some sort of bribe I could cajole him to postpone the due date. I was no derelict. I always did my work. But he quickly said No! and I sat down, definitely not brazenly. I was ashamed that I thought I could bribe a teacher. I just wanted to jump off a precipice and smash into the rocky mountain side. I quickly made a run for the door. But he was in juxtaposition to the door. So I threw a smoke bomb and disappeared....
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This essay was uploaded on 04/19/2008 for the course ENG 101 taught by Professor Blah during the Spring '08 term at Art Institute.

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