Nonfiction Writing - Luke You

I’ve been surrounded by cursing for as long as I can remember. During elementary school, most of it came from my brother, a little came from my parents, and a tiny amount came from my friends. And yet, I didn’t curse at all during that time. I was an innocent kid and knew that those words were bad and that there were certain things that only adults could do. We were unallowed to say them at school, after all. Plus, my parents told my brother off every time he cursed in front of me so that I wouldn’t pick it up from him. And I guess it worked. Although to be fair, I don’t think many elementary school kids cursed anyways, so it’s not like I was unique in this regard. However, when I got into middle school, I started seeing a lot more of it. I made new friends that cursed, I saw my brother curse more, I saw my parents curse sometimes, and I saw my favorite YouTubers curse. At that point, I had been surrounded by enough cursing that I just let it out. And plus, I thought I would be c...

No, I don’t think so. I might look at the phone of a friend beside me to mess with them (whilst making it very obvious), but I don’t eavesdrop on conversations. In fact, I rarely listen to conversations that I don’t need to be a part of. I always just space out or think of other things. Speaking of which, as I’m clickety clacking away on my keyboard to write this, I suddenly notice that my tablemates are talking (I’m serious). Sounds like they’re even arguing. It would be funny to hear what they’re talking about, but I can’t tell because I’m too busy thinking about what to write next. Oh, I just heard the words “lottery ticket.” Anyways, back to writing this essay. I’m not sure where this habit of thinking to myself comes from. I’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember. Could it just have been a tactic formed to fight my constant boredom? Maybe. Am I just helplessly narcissistic and love listening to myself talk at all hours of the day? Maybe, but hopefully not. Althoug...