thecurerocks182
09/13/06, 10:32 PM
Well, i just finished my rough draft and i am feeling pretty tired so excuse the grammatical errors for it is almost impossible to read the screen at the present moment. I was hoping users could help me edit/strengthen my essay. It is a cause and effect essay so anyone with extensive knowledge of it would be gladly appreciated by me if they could tell me about any errors or incoherencies throught this piece. Thanks.
Enfolded by uniform white, young Atropos Mar, of the tender age of sixteen, lays asleep as he has inertly for the past five days. His face is taut with self-loathing and his complexion is fair enough to match the walls and assets that enclosed him; his sheets left only subtle hints that a body rested beneath them. Atropos's father was also there, in a chair, by the only window, staring so far as into the distance as if to find reason outside the confines of the room while, veiled under the sheets that contained his son, protruded cords out to a machine which regulated the boys heartbeat and scrutinized his health. Around the bed post in this sombre room read the child’s diagnosis as being an extreme case of anorexia, and as a result, Atropos’s organs were beginning to fail due to malnutrition; his current health was to be strictly pejorative. The father just waited catatonically, for his boy, who his affinity for was immeasurable, to prove their predictions were a conjecture, but in his mind he knew and contemplated only of the poignancy of burying his only child.
Why would this boy so young, so timid, so full of life, damage himself to the point where he reached his impending death? Was he unpopular at school? Was he a manic depressive? Was he once overweight and during those periods of time, had he been derided? Maybe, writhing with hatred? These questions will never get answered for the simple fact that Atropos Mar had been conjured from the depths of my mind, but can we disregard his plight because he remains only to be a fictitious character? The reality is that young Atropos is as real as any other individual suffering from an eating disorder; the body cannot sustain itself forever under such circumstances.
Conformity plagues us like an epidemic. It is unconquerable in its prime; it is merciless, and intangible. It will coexist inside of us reluctantly throughout adolescence and sometimes throughout our adulthood until we realize that all of our possessions remain material and cannot define us. We wish to subdue, to eradicate, but most of us are oblivious of its presence nevertheless its impact. We all want, in some form, to wear the skin of a magazine baby; oh, to be blessed with perfect complexion and thighs, to be envied or to hold the attention of, but most of us are oblivious to how strenuous it can be on our bodies.
Today’s youth are so oppressed by the media that they strive to emulate their role models. They believe that a certain appearance transcends the identity of the person, and in achieving this image they are presentable for the public; or at least acceptable. Some of us live in fear of who we are because we fit into plus sized jeans. It is only in our nature to consume, yet we are being derided when we do not meet a corporate agenda so, in turn, we are creating our own penance for something that is uncontrollable. Children of the mere age of fourteen are subjecting their bodies through any means of emetic procedures to transform their bodies into emaciated figures. Remember, every action has a reaction, our bodies cannot withstand these atrocious treatments forever, and only time can tell when the ramifications will decide to show their ugly faces.
Enfolded by uniform white, young Atropos Mar, of the tender age of sixteen, lays asleep as he has inertly for the past five days. His face is taut with self-loathing and his complexion is fair enough to match the walls and assets that enclosed him; his sheets left only subtle hints that a body rested beneath them. Atropos's father was also there, in a chair, by the only window, staring so far as into the distance as if to find reason outside the confines of the room while, veiled under the sheets that contained his son, protruded cords out to a machine which regulated the boys heartbeat and scrutinized his health. Around the bed post in this sombre room read the child’s diagnosis as being an extreme case of anorexia, and as a result, Atropos’s organs were beginning to fail due to malnutrition; his current health was to be strictly pejorative. The father just waited catatonically, for his boy, who his affinity for was immeasurable, to prove their predictions were a conjecture, but in his mind he knew and contemplated only of the poignancy of burying his only child.
Why would this boy so young, so timid, so full of life, damage himself to the point where he reached his impending death? Was he unpopular at school? Was he a manic depressive? Was he once overweight and during those periods of time, had he been derided? Maybe, writhing with hatred? These questions will never get answered for the simple fact that Atropos Mar had been conjured from the depths of my mind, but can we disregard his plight because he remains only to be a fictitious character? The reality is that young Atropos is as real as any other individual suffering from an eating disorder; the body cannot sustain itself forever under such circumstances.
Conformity plagues us like an epidemic. It is unconquerable in its prime; it is merciless, and intangible. It will coexist inside of us reluctantly throughout adolescence and sometimes throughout our adulthood until we realize that all of our possessions remain material and cannot define us. We wish to subdue, to eradicate, but most of us are oblivious of its presence nevertheless its impact. We all want, in some form, to wear the skin of a magazine baby; oh, to be blessed with perfect complexion and thighs, to be envied or to hold the attention of, but most of us are oblivious to how strenuous it can be on our bodies.
Today’s youth are so oppressed by the media that they strive to emulate their role models. They believe that a certain appearance transcends the identity of the person, and in achieving this image they are presentable for the public; or at least acceptable. Some of us live in fear of who we are because we fit into plus sized jeans. It is only in our nature to consume, yet we are being derided when we do not meet a corporate agenda so, in turn, we are creating our own penance for something that is uncontrollable. Children of the mere age of fourteen are subjecting their bodies through any means of emetic procedures to transform their bodies into emaciated figures. Remember, every action has a reaction, our bodies cannot withstand these atrocious treatments forever, and only time can tell when the ramifications will decide to show their ugly faces.