The Day I Met My Bestfriend
Turning my face to a nearby window, I began to watch the dance performed by the raindrops. I took a momentary distraction from this image by picking back up my 4B charcoal pencil and skilfully tracing over a faint pattern. I put my pencil aside and spotted the weather outside. I was sorry for the people outdoor who were not allowed inside, regarding , once, I was stuck external, too. I had only very recently found comfort in this classroom ; in this comforting place I call my refuge.
Thanks to my obstinacy and determination, I had deserved my place in an art class, after all. I had achieved my asylum by many fights; I had lost many battles, but I won the war. I no longer regret my decision on moving school, as I did for a too long time. Leaving my old school for this place has once been like flying without wings; like drowning with no air. But somehow, I gained wings before I crashed and I managed not to suffocate!
When today I look back through my life, it is almost impossible for me to remember anything that happened before I was reborn. That may be because before I fell in love with art, nothing mattered: life used to be dark and dim - a never ending twilight- and this darkness terrified me. Nothing in my life had meaning and I lived my life purposelessly: day-by-day. But just then, when I slowly began to fear that there would never be any light meant for me , this flaming meteor flew across my sky, setting everything on fire. Suddenly, along with the light, came the meaning and purpose, followed by the passion of a lifetime. This meteor was art. It had been a priority in my life for many years now and was not replaced by anything. I was perfectly happy with my life as it was, but during the last months of me being a second year, many things had changed.
I moved house to a distant town called Hamilton. To be able to attend my old school from there, would cause me a big deal of trouble everyday, but I refused to move school for the 8th or 9th time in my life,
Thanks to my obstinacy and determination, I had deserved my place in an art class, after all. I had achieved my asylum by many fights; I had lost many battles, but I won the war. I no longer regret my decision on moving school, as I did for a too long time. Leaving my old school for this place has once been like flying without wings; like drowning with no air. But somehow, I gained wings before I crashed and I managed not to suffocate!
When today I look back through my life, it is almost impossible for me to remember anything that happened before I was reborn. That may be because before I fell in love with art, nothing mattered: life used to be dark and dim - a never ending twilight- and this darkness terrified me. Nothing in my life had meaning and I lived my life purposelessly: day-by-day. But just then, when I slowly began to fear that there would never be any light meant for me , this flaming meteor flew across my sky, setting everything on fire. Suddenly, along with the light, came the meaning and purpose, followed by the passion of a lifetime. This meteor was art. It had been a priority in my life for many years now and was not replaced by anything. I was perfectly happy with my life as it was, but during the last months of me being a second year, many things had changed.
I moved house to a distant town called Hamilton. To be able to attend my old school from there, would cause me a big deal of trouble everyday, but I refused to move school for the 8th or 9th time in my life,