400 Words

I hate the idea of this project. I just really don’t think it’s possible to write about myself, to write about my entire life, to get something that can really show who I am out in only 400 words. I think it’s unrealistic, and doesn’t make any sense. I took AP English last year. Trust me, I know this stuff.
You know what I also know? I also know that Playstation is an extremely inferior system to Nintendo. I have my reasons, and not just because of the fact that I am a complete and total Nintendork at heart and to the rest of the world. I know so many people who have multiple Playstations because they frequently break. A friend of mine got the PS3 when it first came out, and it broke within a week, and he couldn’t even get it fixed. See, when the Wii had its issues with the strap of the Wiimote breaking and flying at their TVs and breaking them, they fixed the problem by sending everyone a newly remodeled, completely fixed strap, and including reminders to put the strap on so that the stupid people who are playing Bowling on Wii Sports don’t accidentally let go of their entire Wiimote when they let go of the B button to play the game.
Plus Nintendo just has better games in general.
I know how to bowl. I know my marks. I know that to get a strike I have to stand on the 24th board, and aim two boards right of the second arrow to make sure that I hit two boards left of it. I know that my throw needs to be nice and easy, simply a pendulum with little force at all. I know I’m not supposed to twist my wrist at all, that the ball will curve on its own.
I hate it when people know that I know all of this, because then they expect me to actually be able to do it.

Full rough draft

Ok, focus. Focus. Focuuuuus—
“One!” Go!
Hahaha, I kicked it faster than anyone else. I’ve totally got this. This secret competition that nobody else knows about but really they all know about it. They do.
“Two!” Kick!
Hahaha, still the fastest. I peek around, smirking at the two other black belts who failed to kick that target as fast as me. No one can beat me! I react to sound! I am lightning fast! Watch my reflexes! Hahah—
“Three!” Aaaand Roundhouse!
Ok…They caught on. Gotta go faster this time. Gotta be faster, the fastest. Gotta be faster…

Competition. It’s a beautiful thing. It creates a drive, that little push that you need to get things done. To get things done well. It’s amazing what a little competition can do. Even if it’s a complete secret to everybody else.
I’ve always been a good friend to the secret competition, the competition that you know about and therefore assume that everybody else does too. Like when you’re taking a test and you just have to finish it faster than the person next to you (and hope you get a decent grade on it too), and you imagine that they’re thinking the same thing even if they’re not.
That’s the best kind there is.

I stare up at my ceiling, then squint my eyes hard and wipe them. There has been silence on the phone for a long time now. I know I’m pretty much done for, but I really don’t wanna accept it.
“Jenny?”
“Yeah?” Voice control activated.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” Lying is a wonderful invention.
“I’m sorry…”
“Yeah.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Of course not. I couldn’t be mad at you.” For once I’m telling the truth. Sometimes it’s easier to do that. My voice strengthens because I’m not as angry that I have to lie, so I can stop crying for now.
“Jenny, you’re amazing.”
“No I’m not. You’ll be happier with her.” Another lie. Damn.
“But… But now I’m not so sure. You’re being so nice to me.”
“I just wanna see you happy. If you’ll be happier with her, then stay with her.” How much does it kill me to say that? But then again, that last line… What did he say?
“But she was so mean to me. She was being so awful and you’ve always been so nice to me.”
“I just wanna see you happy.” Why am I sabotaging myself? Am I?
“Jenny… I think, I think I made the wrong choice.” Choices again…
“No, you should stay with her. I know you love her.” Ugh. Why do I do that?!
“Yeah, but… But I think I made the wrong choice. I don’t wanna see you upset.”
“I’ll be happy if you’re happy.”
Silence.
“Jenny?”
“Yeah?” I clear my throat.
“I need to sleep on this, but I’m pretty sure that I made the wrong choice. I think I need to fix this.”
“Ok. Do what you have to though. I just wanna see you happy.”
I know I’ve won for now.
I have so many times revisited this incident in my mind. Why on earth did I let myself say those things? I knew I hated that girl, and I knew she wasn’t right for him, but I said all of that anyway.
Secret competitions work better, I think.

“Go faster! Come on, roll, roll!” My foot bounces in anticipation. I want it to be my turn already.
A roll of the dice and—
Aww crap. They landed on Baltic. They landed on Baltic! I needed that! If I at least had Baltic then they wouldn’t get the monopoly on the purple spaces.
“I’ll buy it!” They put the 60 Monopoly dollars in the bank, and I, the property manager, fork over my favorite property.

Sometimes I wonder if any of my friends would ever actually buy Baltic and Mediterranean if they didn’t know that they were my favorites. See, my friends and I love Monopoly. And all of us are just super competitive. We follow the rules here. Nobody steals from the bank like everyone else does when they just casually play the game. This is the real deal. We all have our favorite properties, and so, of course, we all feel the need to try and buy those properties before the person who loves it can get it.
This is a real competition. Everybody knows it, and everybody plays it.
It’s a cut throat world when you play Monopoly.

Collage pg.1

Ok, focus. Focus. Focuuuuus—
“One!” Go!
Hahaha, I kicked it faster than anyone else. I’ve totally got this. This secret competition that nobody else knows about but really they all know about it. They do.
“Two!” Kick!
Hahaha, still the fastest. I peek around, smirking at the two other black belts who failed to kick that target as fast as me. No one can beat me! I react to sound! I am lightning fast! Watch my reflexes! Hahah—
“Three!” Aaaand Roundhouse!
Ok…They caught on. Gotta go faster this time. Gotta be faster, the fastest. Gotta be faster…

Competition. It’s a beautiful thing. It creates a drive, that little push that you need to get things done. To get things done well. It’s amazing what a little competition can do. Even if it’s a complete secret to everybody else.
I’ve always been a good friend to the secret competition, the competition that you know about and therefore assume that everybody else does too. Like when you’re taking a test and you just have to finish it faster than the person next to you (and hope you get a decent grade on it too), and you imagine that they’re thinking the same thing even if they’re not.
That’s the best kind there is.