My 7th grade year, my class literature teacher looked my priority. She praised me as a literary genius ?! That my article very insightful, much less of the seniors 12. Actually, what I am not talented. I have consulted a number of documents of 12 to write essay. Because then my sister is in grade 12. I had fun though and always proud of myself for that. My texts she read to the class form. She also retained to document read form for students in the later courses.
I entered grade 8 with a little pride in the heart while learning academic subjects. Unfortunately for me was my literature teacher in grade 8 hates me. Because she hated the poor child was orphaned child as my father. Plus I once parodied her dialect when I was in Grade 7. She is very strict with the essay I wrote. Everything I write, she always pick holes to ridicule me for rippin'em class. No longer the love of my literature teacher before. I gradually lost the passion for literature. Main old literature teacher I was astonished because the bad comments literature teacher my new to me. Cong I was already too tired bored in school and literacy teacher anymore.
Then the old literature teacher my back to teaching my class citizens. Her eyes are always watching me very affectionately. Half as consolation, half as encouragement. Once she gently told me to hang on. Because she did not help me. Since she is technically subordinate of new literature teacher of mine. I also thank her and could only try. Whenever a new teacher weighed documents for home work. I always try to write the truth very well. Language really is sleek, flashy. I castigate each stroke in the post. Whatever the outcome of the literacy summarized my year was not high. But I've tried my best. Only thing, it seems I've lost her since then in efforts to please the new literature teacher. Now that I think back, I feel sorry and sad for me all these years. But okay, because now I'm lighting dreams of becoming a writer himself. I tried to make literature, journalism and poetry to make money. Thinking back to the too strict new literature teacher to me like a chill on my self-esteem. But also because of that, I always try, dig deep and relentless effort to every article of me or more. ... I'm glad that now I am myself ....
Author: P. T. H
I entered grade 8 with a little pride in the heart while learning academic subjects. Unfortunately for me was my literature teacher in grade 8 hates me. Because she hated the poor child was orphaned child as my father. Plus I once parodied her dialect when I was in Grade 7. She is very strict with the essay I wrote. Everything I write, she always pick holes to ridicule me for rippin'em class. No longer the love of my literature teacher before. I gradually lost the passion for literature. Main old literature teacher I was astonished because the bad comments literature teacher my new to me. Cong I was already too tired bored in school and literacy teacher anymore.
Then the old literature teacher my back to teaching my class citizens. Her eyes are always watching me very affectionately. Half as consolation, half as encouragement. Once she gently told me to hang on. Because she did not help me. Since she is technically subordinate of new literature teacher of mine. I also thank her and could only try. Whenever a new teacher weighed documents for home work. I always try to write the truth very well. Language really is sleek, flashy. I castigate each stroke in the post. Whatever the outcome of the literacy summarized my year was not high. But I've tried my best. Only thing, it seems I've lost her since then in efforts to please the new literature teacher. Now that I think back, I feel sorry and sad for me all these years. But okay, because now I'm lighting dreams of becoming a writer himself. I tried to make literature, journalism and poetry to make money. Thinking back to the too strict new literature teacher to me like a chill on my self-esteem. But also because of that, I always try, dig deep and relentless effort to every article of me or more. ... I'm glad that now I am myself ....
Author: P. T. H
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