<p>This is my essay in response to a prompt: Tell us/your future roommate something about yourself. </p>
<p>I know it needs MAJOR revisions, but this was from an assignment I dug up sophomore year. The limit is 250 words; currently, it stands at 419 words.</p>
<p>My Favorite Thing </p>
<pre><code> I do not have a favorite thing. If I did have a favorite thing, then it would be too hard for me to remember what my favorite thing was, because I do not waste effort to remember such trivial things. Laziness is what defines me as a person. Being a truly lazy person, however, I guess that I do have a favorite object: my pillow, the rectangular-shaped, cotton candy-like head cushion that lies on my bed. Without it, my head would have nowhere to lie, and then I would have to use a tissue box as a poor substitute, in which case I would initially become extremely frustrated and then fall into poor-quality sleep, waking up every ten minutes during the REM sleep stage, which could be a good or bad thing, depending on the type of dream that I would be experiencing that very moment. Such a situation would then lead to a very bad school day, and I am glad to declare that thus far in my life, nobody has ever tried to steal my pillow from me.
I rarely take my pillow for granted; except myself, I dont think that anyone appreciates the value of a good pillow anymore. That isnt to say that I worship this mundane cotton rectangle, but I certainly do respect it. Certain people use these indispensable daily life tools in pillow fights, or jumping contests, and I would like to stop thinking about the horrors that these tough pillows have to endure, but I must acknowledge the fact that while most people sleep with a good rectangle piece of cotton, some pillows do not rest with a satisfactory user. Pillows, however, being the enduring, abiotic pioneers of sleep, take everything in stride, like Cinderella, Snow White, or any other poor, pathetic princess that was lucky enough to have their own pillow to rest on.
Pillows are my life-saviors. They are the angels that permit me to sleep to 10 am on weekends; they are my comforting skies that I put my head under in an attempt to escape from school, but most of all, pillows are what help me become the person I am today. Without a pillow, I would become an unbelievably irrational, grumpy person; everyone would treat me as if I was old scrooge from Charles Dickens Christmas Carol, except I would be a young Scrooge, all from the lack of rest my head was denied the previous night. Therefore, I declare with distinct reason and clarity, pillows rock.
</code></pre>
<p>I want to know - it is too dangerous? What I’m aiming for here is a memorable essay. One that will make the college admissions people go “OH, that’s the pillow boy!”</p>