I'm in the middle of a fiery teenage debacle. You see, I'm reading The Picture of Dorian Gray for AP Brit Lit and, as Sam said, it's pretty much "blah blah blah blah YOUTH blah blah The Establishment sucks blah blah blah intellect doesn't matter blah Sibyl Vane is perfect."I guess I wonder sometimes whether or not Oscar Wilde was right - if intellect is more important than material objects, tangible and purchaseable toys and goods and food, than why are there books? Why does the internet exist? Why does every human trait seem to be attached to the way people dress, comb their hair, wear their jeans, from where they buy their shoes?I was sitting in German thinking about how I would much rather be Basil, a simpleton who can paint and draw and envision beyond any of the other characters in the novel. I would much rather have a paramount level of intellect filling up every corner of my body than a whole bunch of money and clothes to cover up the purity of Earth.English isn't a good subject. My thoughts are on a rampage to prove someone wrong, and I can't seem to do anything but ask questions.I guess it builds up my knowledge. Who knows. I sure don't feel as smart as I am told.
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