Commonwealth Essay Reflection WJ USING CHEEKYAP'S ACCOUNT
I learned nothing about myself from this essay, with the exception of mayhap the actuality that I am insufficiently prepared for the purpose of rendering a perfectly acceptably formal essay that may suit the standards of my teacher to an extent that will ensure a grade that is distinctly capable of creating the possibility of myself appearing to have received any merit whatsoever.
Honestly, sincerely, genuinely, faithfully, it is with my most heartfelt sorrow that I contemplate the repercussions of not considering with great care every prospect of including an additionally formal phrase, not forgetting my neglecting the necessity of removing inconsequential attempts to infuse the slightest hint of wit.
My amateur endeavor to articulate my uncreative narrative has been met with a reaction, not unexpectedly, of disbelief with my seemingly impossible deficiency in empathy and ethics for not making allowance for the insignificantly infinitesimal chance that the educator will be less inclined to admire the mindless and indiscriminate desecration of the five-paragraph essay through the usage of a form of voodoo magic, the indulgence in the excessive lack of formality in order to please oneself and garner a minute amount of pity from the mistress.
Without the prior familiarity of the party involved, my now-remorseful self was left clueless as to the authentic outcome of such a disgraceful act. Needless to say, I would like to apologize for my transgression of underestimating the wrath of nature – none of the masters and mistresses being analogous in any form – I am guilty of proffering my approach to literary production for inspection without advance information on the attitude of the mistress when confronted with an essay.
What then? Am I to ponder the nature of my master or mistress prior to the first encounter in reality? I am afraid so, life is fair to all of course, excluding the pariahs and the students. I should be grateful that my paper has not been banished forever from the face of this earth without delay for the harsh strokes of blasphemy upon the soft apparition of whiteness that was laid before the mistress.
Request for authorization of the conviction that my lowly self can attain the veritable symbol of merit by a stroke of luck: B
The beautiful B, the goal of all under the mistress, for none can be perfect, even if one is flawless. It will take a giant impulse of beneficence from the One to suffer herself and offer the near-inconceivable B+. The Ronald Chan inevitably will commit frivolous mistakes while performing fantastic calculations that Einstein himself would have died to even observe. But less than full marks? What folly! It is unambiguously plainly apparent that genius is not recognized. Strange then that in a world turned upside down the intellectually-challenged, such as myself, who are lackluster in their struggles to present a piece of work are not given an A++.
