>tfw 200 word essay on what I did over Thanksgiving Break due next month
JUST
>>24393597
Just make something up. It is not that hard.
>>24393597
>20 word essay due on memes
its due tomorrow and i can't think of any dank ones ;_;
>original post due in 2 seconds
>2 letter essay about the faggotry of OP due two weeks from now
>how do?
>2500 word essay comparing Hobbes and Locke's concepts of the ideal state due in monday
>0 words written
>don't even have a thesis
Dude university lmao
>>24393597
Hello, anon. Writer here. These are some solid options. I would choose more than one of them, or even combine them all if I were in your shoes.
-mention your family members coming to your house and visiting you
-make up personalities for family members, describe them
-talk about all the imaginary food you ate and describe it to the best of your ability based on past experience
-write about going on a small trip somewhere with friends to a theatre, theme park, etc.
It isn't difficult, OP. On my highschool's writing/reading exam I scored best out of 155 students - better than any other student who took the test, and in the writing portion I typed up a story that was purely fictional.
TLDR: bullshit your way through it.
I spent all of Thanksgiving break inside my parents' house, doing nothing but eating, sleeping, getting drunk, and posting on an online forum for depressed and isolated young men. This is who I am, I do not know what else to do,
holiday or not. Monotonous. Uneventful. Though I did experience anxiety over the notion that soon there will be pressure placed on me yet again to be something I am not, that I will not be left alone, for the entire week before
Thanksgiving. I drank a bit more than usual on those days.
When Thanksgiving day came around, my mom knocked on the locked door to my room and invited me to the dining room to eat with the rest of my family. I felt a sharp peak of panic and let out a muffled "no thank you". She seemed
disappointed, gave me a weak "are you sure?", as if she were pleading, for just this one day, for her undead son to resurrect himself and be the happy man she always wanted him to be. Hell, at this point she probably doesn't even
care if I go that far, she just wants me to give her a chance, no matter how awkward I may behave. She wants some sign that there's anything left in my heart other than emptiness, that there's at least a dull flicker of light in
there somewhere. She paused at the door for what seemed like minutes, then, upon realizing that her hopes would not be fulfilled, said "there will be leftovers in the fridge for you", and walked away. I sobbed quietly in the
dark. Thanksgiving. What do I have to be thankful for? Being a piece of shit who can't even make his mother, who devoted her life to me, feel happy or proud for even a single day? What does she have to feel thankful for? The
useless nothing that takes up space in her house, like a motionless parasite that has given up its mind, only living to inflict misery upon itself and those from which it feeds?
(1/2)
>>24394098
(2/2)
I think this day, for my family and I, is a crude mockery of what life could have been. That it actively attempts to point out our flaws, as if it possessed sentience itself. Yes, that's it. It's life intentionally making fun of us. I heard, quietly, through the walls, a resigned "he's not coming down, I don't think he's feeling well". Self-resentment. Anger. An urge to slam my head against the wall welled within me. I quieted my mind with more booze, distracted myself with music that feels like nothing to me and empty words on the imageboard I frequent.
Eventually, at what must be past midnight by then, I heard the noise being produced by my often boisterous family downstairs simmer to a halt, followed by the shuffle of footsteps as they found their way to the rooms where they would retire for the night. It is then that I creaked my door open ever so slowly, scanned the hallway to ensure it was empty, and skulked downstairs to the refrigerator. There was a tupperware container full of food. It had a sticky note on it. My name was written on that note, along with a little smiley face. Written by my mother, of course. I tried to fight back tears. Her kindness is too much for pathetic vermin like myself. I opened up the container and ate what was in it without heating it. I don't deserve hot food. Then, I went back upstairs and went to sleep.
>>24393597
>200 hundred words
what a fucking whiner
are you in grade 7 or something?
>>24394098
Nice anon i like this
>2015
>people still falling for the 200 word essay bait
On a serious note, mine is 250 words and it is killing me.
>>24393961
How much shit, does a bull make?
>>24394323
Enough to write a 200 word essay.
>>24394452
I don't know if that math sounds right
>>24393848
sounds interesting tbqh
