Being
Words, Sentences, Nouns, Pronouns, Adjectives, Adverbs, constantly swarming the condescending tone of my own remarks of understanding this type of tutoring, while all the time compiling themselves into a cluttered mess of rules that consumes my mind and what next? After the feast of my brain do I, as my own being, claim to know the rules. The repertoire of a mind once lost to grammar lingers in the assumptions of what has become the self, the being that subsumes the knowledge around and flourishes it. Or is it the being that has starved its own anticipation for the knowledge that once was?
While the grand exploration of the mind or what was and has become, may cease to exist. The contemplation of what was must begin. Silently creeping, and lurking in the back of my conscious lies the idea of what was: Grammar Rules. Condensed over the years by philosophical knowledge and buried in the back of the skull, with only one etching: Comma Happy, solemn remembrances of what once were the teachings of my English mentor. Justification for a life cultivated of other knowledge, while remembering the laws that govern existence.
How then do I resurrect the memories of my grammar classes to not miss the mark and consume the session with useless knowledge, that neither the tutee nor I should even embark to explore.
The enlightenment that I felt knowing that I was not alone on this journey warmed my soul. Thankfully, my being was far from alone on the battlefield for understanding. With a helping hand, Adrian, regained the session. Without having covered a lot of grammar rules in a yvery long time, the books were opened and all three people dove into them looking for an explanation.
But just as there are explanations for our own assumptions about the English language, there is an ideology that follows the words and clauses and subjects and verbs and grammatical errors that boggle a person’s existence, so there must be rules to follow. The rocks of ideals of what becomes the language are nothing more than a fear to embark on this journey with another person. What may come of my existence, I know not. But the assumption of my knowledge of our language shall be a voyage I will take, but never truly conquer.
While the grand exploration of the mind or what was and has become, may cease to exist. The contemplation of what was must begin. Silently creeping, and lurking in the back of my conscious lies the idea of what was: Grammar Rules. Condensed over the years by philosophical knowledge and buried in the back of the skull, with only one etching: Comma Happy, solemn remembrances of what once were the teachings of my English mentor. Justification for a life cultivated of other knowledge, while remembering the laws that govern existence.
How then do I resurrect the memories of my grammar classes to not miss the mark and consume the session with useless knowledge, that neither the tutee nor I should even embark to explore.
The enlightenment that I felt knowing that I was not alone on this journey warmed my soul. Thankfully, my being was far from alone on the battlefield for understanding. With a helping hand, Adrian, regained the session. Without having covered a lot of grammar rules in a yvery long time, the books were opened and all three people dove into them looking for an explanation.
But just as there are explanations for our own assumptions about the English language, there is an ideology that follows the words and clauses and subjects and verbs and grammatical errors that boggle a person’s existence, so there must be rules to follow. The rocks of ideals of what becomes the language are nothing more than a fear to embark on this journey with another person. What may come of my existence, I know not. But the assumption of my knowledge of our language shall be a voyage I will take, but never truly conquer.
posted by Emma at 7:51 PM
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