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the following is an excerpt
from an e-mail i received from ilona missakian, my ap english teacher during
my senior year of high school. i asked her the question, "what does it
mean to love writing?" this is her response :
I can't believe I've taken so long to get back to you. I never intended to
ignore your last e-mail. You questioned "what does it mean to love writing?"
and I can maybe only offer the answer that it means not being satisfied with
what you wrote yesterday. It means you're always going to step away from
where you are toward where you'd like to be. In that way it has a quality
similar to eternity that you will ever be devoted to... perhaps it is a
parody of faith that has its moments of exhilaration and struggle that won't
leave you. What happens to the enjoyment? It hibernates once in a
while and sometimes wakes up at 3:00 in the morning... sometimes 3:00 in the
morning 3 months later. Maybe longer. It won't abandon you,
though; other stuff may seem to smother the flames but the smoldering,
the heat, the potential, the passion you mention IS there. The right
fuel will ignite it. As liberating as college may be, sometimes it has
the same stifling ability that high school could have. Don't worry,
Eugene. To use more metaphors, you have the drive and let it drive you
and inspire you, but sometimes being a passenger allows you to let go of the
controls or avoid wearing down your "wheels." You're still riding
along but let the guards down and enjoy the view. It can be
revitalizing, too.
...
All the best, Eugene,
Ilona Missakian
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