

Now there was only Silence.He stared across his empty classroom. Sharp rays of light falling powerfully amoung the rows of desks. Soon the room would be filled with bundles of inconsistent noise. Mindless chatter, unnecessary screams and endless clashing of books, quills and equipment.Now there was only Silence.
But now there was only silence. His mug half drained, the rest of his tea stale and cold. He pondered his influence. Was it really worth it? He supposed it was. Although it didnt matter much. Teaching was all he had.
The school bell rang from a distance, and the busy hustle of feet soon crowded the aged doorway.


Creativity.Why do we try to express such tender feelings with words that will never relate? To capture a moment that we may never emulate. To relive the moments that we felt the happiest. Or most depressed.Creativity.
One writes with such passion that they may never feel, though another writes with monotonous links, and passion they may never reveal.
Understanding is not a part of creativity. Beauty was only created through mortal eyes. Everything was created enticingly engaging
though our mind punishes us with judgement. Common sense ruins what freedom we may have had.
Ps 1ST muhahaha
--
Choking you gently,
Gaining control,
Hand you the shovel,
To dig your own hole.
<3ing *crikey
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