remember this lol. it has some names of nincompoops from the grade but they're so foolish that I hardly care, and its only first names anyway
This letter will be hopelessly and tiresomely lengthy, but I do hope you find the reason and sense to read through it all. And in spite of all the miseries and grammatical errors committed by our so called “compatriots,” we should persist in our search to find a coruscating light in this emotionally and psychologically Cimmerian and imperceptibly dismal wall of darkness.
As we’re inching closer and closer to the dénouement of this ghastly, long school year, the firm parts of this web of life are slowly, but noticeably, untangling and falling apart. The dégringolade of stability is upsetting yet not pondered upon by most in this ALP, from the humorous approach that we are damaging to the bones to the apocalyptic premonition of the obliteration of the universe.
The relationship between the twelve of us seems to be substantial enough, if slightly gossamer between the two genders. We don’t quite devilishly lambaste each other (most of the time), but we generally do not conversate and sometimes bicker. This synergy of course is not a problem.
A few other aspects are personally driving me into non compos mentis, and much of this is the subliminal realization that many things could go chaotic and all twelve of our lives’ could be potentially launched into unsettling pandemonium. Although this sounds like a dramatization, I’m nothing but somber. I’m quite worried that an un-thought-of solution could drive us anywhere from alexithymia to psychological upset.
And I’m intensely, not to say pusillanimous, but I am deeply worried that the adscititious piques of everyone’s life will cause them to completely neglect these problems due to their promiscuous and jittery manners (promiscuous used in one, but not both of its senses. The other one that I’m not applying is quite dirty.) All of our classmates are in such a rococo state doing goodness knows what that they aren’t thinking about the Pantagruelian picture.
Even I am off doing some international research project. But, with this massive consternation out of the way.
As we all know, there is a re-sort (no, not a holiday resort) at the end of sixth grade to decide who will be in seventh and eighth grade ALP. It is entirely possible that we all may end up with each other, but the unpredictability and the qualms of it all make it onerous to compute. Some of us have grown less erudite and esoteric since our fourth grade days, some to the point of incompetence, so who knows what may happen?!
So, you, my trustful fidus Achates, I desiderate assist from you. I do not want to mope around my last days eating servings of salmagundi. There must be some way to uphold this tragedy!
You probably see this letter as a microcosm of the pains of floccinaucinihilipilification. Are you just might be a hopeless gobemouche to every word that I’m writing. Oh, alas. I might never know.
On with the abysmally vulgar seminar and tête-à-tête, shall we? It seems inevitable that one of us will be disaffiliated from the Terrific Twelve, and what happens when that occurs? If such a Kafkaesque situation were to happen, there’s multitudinous ways in which the end result might shatter us to the core! If you were eliminated, or I was, we would be lonefully separated for the rest of eternity. Or what if everyone except me were dispelled, and I had to be trapped in a gruesome room with nincompoops like Bryan or lummoxes like Abhinav or even ignoramuses such as any one of the fools who viciously vociferate at us in vexation?! I’d leave the school very well.
And there are still katzenjammers if all twelve of us remain in the prestigious group of the Amazing Logical People. We could be quipped upon even more, and if our reputation was ever on a crescendo, we all shattered it with a few poses or misspoken words to the point where a totalitarian of lies has been agglomerated in a savage blitzkrieg in which its only purpose was to bombard on twelve humble children.
There are a thousand, a million, a billion, a trillion, a centillion, a millinillion, an infinite number of more perturbations. But we can’t discuss it all on paper. And even if the majority choose to atrabiliously circumvallate upon the shell of who was, or is, or will be in ALP, there are still a few decent people left. We will always be impuissant to anyone who critiques us. but the few decent people overpower all of the, at core incompetent people, and even they have some good in them, no matter how bad-tempered, rude, harsh, unsound, and fatuous they appear. When we appear in the most lachrymose conditions, the lenity of a few will lighten the aura around us, if only momentarily, for us to be thrown back into an existential and dolorous mindest. The cycle repeats.
And even when the plumbless questions of life and the universe are thrown in our way, and when the perfidious philippics of bland personages are evident… even when we are ‘zyzzyva’ in everyone’s priorities…
after being patient for quite some time, and if worst comes to worst, we will temariously and unforgivingly beat them down to bits and our braggadocio proves how ultimately superior we are.
Sincerely,
My name that I retconned
P.S. GrapeFace will rise up...
Nov 27, 2020
by
AureliusReyes
