<p>The Beast, age-worn and cynical, spread forth its hideous tentacles and composed an enticing note. Applicant 314's toe-kissing seemed to have paid off; the creature's eyes, constituted by a committee of tinier eyes, were finally looking at him. Words spewed forth forming questions: “What do you mean by that?”, “And what about this? You didn't do this?”, “You what? Did what?”. 314 answered each glowingly, every sentence punctuated with a courteous phrase, and even composed replies to unasked queries. But with each statement the creature recoiled, its faculties turning to the others, leaving the young applicant in a state of muted dejection. </p>
<p>His toes felt sweaty and his body emanated an unusual odor. 314's bed had absorbed all his filth and sorrows, rendering it unoccupiable. The night would be a long one. He envisioned the Beast's abode, its bucolic duck pond and long greenish pastures. Five O'clock. Now he thought about the conversations he'd have with the other students – top students – and the trips he'd take. Nine O'clock, the sun had risen. He'd pave a new life for his family. Twelve, midday. Rejected. </p>
I found the above “musings” more coherent this time around than I did last December, when they were originally posted. However, I suspect that’s because the intervening application period has rendered my own thought processes somewhat less coherent . . .
Once it’s understood that the Beast is the College, the “musings” make sense. A potential problem with the style is that it’s difficult to tell on a first reading whether it’s good, or really bad. If this reflects the application essay’s style, the applicant would ideally have shown elsewhere that they can write more conventionally.
What I’d like to know is whether the musings are “true.” That is, did the OP really feel like a beast’s plaything?