These are words from the Manhatten GRE flash cards that I am not so familiar with. Please correct any mistakes in usage if possible, thanx.
Some people seem to be under the impression that great
writing is evidenced by the sentences being disjointed. The incoherent
and disconnected phrases are deemed to be a mark of elegance. Since my disposition
is to be kind and helpful, I find that the ideal method to relay information is
to present it clearly and lucidly. However, one of my many faults is that I have
a lack of expediency and dispatch regarding things relate to writing. I
lack the speed and promptness needed to be able to write on the fly. When I attempt
to do so, the writing seems to be dispassionate, as I tend to be able to
convey my feelings and emotions better when I labor over the structure and
wording.
As a result of this analysis, I balked at first at
the offer to pursue a career as a journalist. My refusal stemmed from this inability,
plus a myriad other reason. I know, I know, the writing here belies this
story. The pathetic prose presented here evidence that I am misrepresenting the
facts; I simply do not have capability or capacity to write a sensible article
for any self respecting publication. Perhaps this may seem true. But if anyone is
aware of the burgeoning market for elementary blogs and commentaries
then they would understand that due to this growth of a market there is room
for addition. I just wish for the day in which I can write eloquently about the
bygone days of my youth! How nostalgic I become as a remind myself of my
benign neighbor, so kind that he would gently put me to bed when my
parents where away partying. He would protect me from my parents' capricious
ways; their erratic behavior at times prone to placing me and my siblings in
danger. They would come home at times and hurl caustic remarks at us, criticizing
and being very critical of our mere existence. Morning would come and, in a conciliatory
manner, they would attempt to reconcile the past nights events by appeasing us
with treats. They failed to understand that in no way is the pain suffered commensurate
to the joy goodies. The wounds of abuse are still left gaping while the momentary
pleasures of life are just passing by. My father's actions where revealed by my
neighbor to the city council (of which my father partook) and he was simply censured
with no further action taken (aside from this trivial official reprimand). How
they could condone these evils, how they could tolerate and overlook the
terror that was in their midst is something that still boggles the mind. Moreover,
the lack of action can be construed as a tolerance for these antics, as
there seems to be no other way to interpret the events. One can argue that I must
contextualize more, that I must place in context and give more
background to the culture and society I lived in. I, however, argue conversely,
the opposite way, to the contrary. There are objective moral standards that every
parent must be held accountable to. I know this may be a contentious
postulation for some, but there is no need to cause controversy, not need to
involve in petty arguments. It is simply true, bad things are bad, evil parents
are evil; there are no two ways about it. You don't have to be conversant
it metaphysical philosophy to understand this point. This is basic to any one
that had any sensibility and mind.
Dear me, it appears as though I have written with a copious
vocabulary, the plenty of words are getting to my head. Studying is hard.
Interesting Job, looking forward to seeing more
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