Toffey

Hiya, this is my first post of some work. I was in kind of a depressed mood when I wrote this piece last night. It was really late and I was really tired. I read it this morning and kind of liked it. I've never done this before, and I'm anxious to have people critique.


John Toffey
My best friend

It was passed down through the family. It is genetic, probably. It most likely comes from the father’s side of the family. I don’t well enough know what his grandfather was like, but I do know his father and brother have the same trait, that abnormal intense-emotional malady. It isn’t quite as prominent in the brother, but this disorder causes him and his father to be overly intense in cases relating to feelings and sentiment. They get tied up in trying to make sure everyone is happy, which causes problems when this excessive behavior upsets people. What a horrible burden they carry. He and his father only want to bring joy, but all they receive is emotional anguish and pain as people refuse it and avoid it and in the process, end up disliking these two wonderfully nice people for their own selfish reasons and lack of understanding. I don’t know what others are like, but these two appear to be special. This affliction, which makes life so difficult for them, does not seem to exist in anyone else. I don’t know, to the same extent, the emotional turmoil in the father, which I know in him. I know him very well. He is in agony. He is internally conflicted about so many things. His soul is tired of suffering from this endless torment. In his body exists a thick dark fog of woe and confusion. He wants to escape, he longs to be normal, and he wants to feel the weight lifted off his chest so that he might fly away. Everyday he wishes to know what it would be like to be completely mindless and absolutely content. Even in the most relaxing of times, his mind is always churning and aching, contemplating and suffering. Why? Why is he like this? It would seem that he is ill fated and destined to live alone and lost, lost in his own interior painted with sorrow. And nobody can understand him. He can try to explain to someone, but people hate drama, people hate intensity, people hate understanding, and people are too close minded and unable to take a minute of their meaningless lives to grasp this unusual, lost creature. He must travel this world, utterly alone, reaching out like child, looking for reason. He can’t find it though, so he sits. Maybe it’s not genetic. Maybe he is solitary, unique, and different than his brother and father. I don’t know for sure.

Rico

Well, first off, it was a little difficult for my tired eyes to read this, as it was all lumped into one huge paragraph. You may want to split it up somehow. Aside from that, though, it was a good read. It is clear that you care for your best friend and it hurts you to see him hurting. You are a good friend. I found no grammar mistakes, but then again, English is not my first language, so look to others for that.

In conclusion, good job and keep up the good work.


Rico

Toffey

Well the reason it's all clumped is because it's the style I wanted. I didn't want to make it with paragraphs. It's a different kind of work. You see, my best friend is me. It's like an artistic third person self-reflection. But if it's hard to read, I guess you could paste it in Word and make it double-spaced.

And I know there are punctuation issues, and if you care to point them out, please do.
I like long sentences.
And I know there is a sentence or two that needs to be worked on so they flow better.

Thanks for the crits!

Rico

Well, rereading it with the view that it is you that you are describing, it takes on a slightly different meaning.

There's nothing wrong with being sensitive.

MetalDog

I popped in for a look and didn't read it because it was just one big clump of words.
I'd suggest finding a more readable 'style'.

__________________
~MetalDog
"So, I figured that if I was going to react, I may as well overreact..."
Alan Moore

Toffey

lol t doesn't matter if it's all clumped. It's clumped because it's more of a journal entry. There is no way to organize it, really.