This is a short class assignment I wrote a few months back. I was feeling pretty down about my writing today (and in particular about Teacup Rebel), so I was digging through old stuff I wrote and trying to see how I could improve. So, If you have any constructive criticism, don’t hesitate.
“I’m becoming a sheep and a stereotype of the mob mentality. Yesterday I gave up my name for a number, and my feet for hooves. In my herd, I am defined as the one with slightly bushier coat of wool and the portly belly. My distinctions have upset my fellow stock, so I’m cutting down on my grass consumption and getting a trim; I would hate to stick out. From now on, indefinite articles go perfectly before my name.
My newfound identity makes me proud. As one of the group, the wise elders have let me on the secret of a tried and tested tactic of survival. They called it “Do what everyone does, because thinkers makes others uncomfortable”. I admire that way of life and dedication, for even the great bisons do it. Just last week I saw an entire herd follow each other off a cliff with such grace in compliance.
Sometimes I miss who I used to be. I was an Iberian Lynx, one of the four hundred in existence. My fur was one-off with brown, beige, black, and many other shades. And my face served as an inspiration for writers and fashion designers. Still, everyone used to look at me and point with their hooves, and it made me wish I could belong. I always felt like a PS3 in a box of legos. I might have been something spectacular; but it could never fit in. It is easier now.
In a few minutes, the elders will chant, “Embrace the mundane” and I will baa right after them in a rite of passage. I will live like the rest never using “I” before “think”. I will bury whatever originality I have left, and never be exceptional again. When my kids are born, they are going to bleat with the rest and get herded by a dog. I believe this is the best and only choice for them. It is, right?”