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FollowYou need to follow your dreams.
That's what he says to us.
How with the arts, there is no right and wrong.
Why some people fail. Who they are. What they did incorrect.
He compares writing with math.
There is no similarity in my mind.
I feel the substitute's unforgiving gaze lock upon me.
And the slightly swaying pencil nestling in the palm of my hand.
I can see him staring at it.
Why is he still looking?
He looks hungry.
A starved wolf eyeing its prey.
He commands the release of my sword of graphite.
He demands the absence of my canvas of recycled paper.
And for me to stop wasting everyone's precious time.
I ask him why he uses our precious time to tell me I am wasting everyone's precious time.
I am given a cold look. A last warning.
The less than pleasing title of a 'failure' is slapped on my face.
Apparently I am not paying attention to his words of so-called wisdom.
Apparently lack of eye contact instantly translates to dreaming off in space.
Dreaming and managing our time.
PatiencePatience: playing patty-cake with an annoying girl five grades below you who reeks of garlic and has sweaty hands whose high-pitched voice grinds into your skull to induce a major headache that can't be calmed down until the end of the day for the whole fifty minute bus ride for all one hundred eighty days of school.
Or is it called being too polite to say 'buzz off, kid'?
Awesome sauce plus cool beans...
Awesome cool bean sauce.
I would so dip my chip in that.
Free Beer...?There's a charity tonight! Please attend!
...It's for a good cause!
It's a fundraiser for poor starving African children!
I'M THERE BRO!!!
I mean, hm, yeah, I can go...I guess.
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