Rhetorical Devices In English Class

Well, it’s ninth grade and I’m sitting in English Class, a little bored and a little puzzled by the constant emission of rhetorical interpretations, each slightly different in their own way, but all the same nonetheless. At this point, my teacher is calling on the students who haven’t raised their hands to offer their two cents on…something we had been reading. Frankly, they’re just phoning it in. I look to the clock and, wow, we still have another forty-two minutes left. So naturally, I zone out, lost in a trance, achingly trying to stay awake. English is not really my favorite subject, so I don’t really participate in our discussions that much. “Ben?” the teacher asks. “Could you tell us your thoughts on the chosen passage?” What the hell?

But man, it’s a long passage. Skimming over it won’t help. Looks like I’m going to have to phone it in as well. “I especially admire the way the author uses the metaphor of the caged animal to convey the theme of freedom and confinement.” I said. “Excellent, Ben. We are actually going to discuss that theme later on.” I can’t believe she bought that. Well, I knew caged animals were in the passage, so I called them up. I don’t normally admire those who wear masks, and I especially don’t like wearing one myself, but sometimes, it’s the only option, as you’ve already seen. So I drift off into another trance to picture a place where nobody wears a mask. It’s becoming frustratingly hard to do so. People keep asking me about my friends, whether I have any, whether I made any new ones, and even whether I am romantically involved with any of them. Honestly, they should not worry about it because it’s not their business. Unfortunately, it seems they too are concealed, looking for acceptance in the miserable anxiety of others. I have friends. Some friends. They’re in my head. Yes, they are not real. They are these perfect apparitions, made out of the best pieces from the people I