This semester has helped me realize how much I truly love English and literature.
I love that any given poem, merely a few words put together into stanzas, can have significant meaning that is entirely different for countless amounts of people.
I love that each book or poem or essay is a little peice of the writer.
I love that novels and poems and stories from all over the world can have similar themes and archetypes. It sort of connects us all as humans, I think.
I love that I can absolutely hate a book or poem, but still see its value as literature, and appreciate the writing. It creates these strange relationships with words.
And I love the complexity and diversity and possibilites... as much as people say there is no more originality left, each thing we write is original in some respect. I love it.