Where Problems Do Not Exist

My dormant body wakes to the sound of the music that blares through my alarm clock. Another dream has come and gone. Another day is made anew. I remove the covers from over my body and rise from the comfort of my warm bed. As I trudge to the bathroom I reminisce on how wonderful it would be to climb back in bed and fall into a deep sleep. To dream without an end. As the rain comes down outside my window, I step into the comforting warmth of the running shower which arouses my body. Why must I leave the comforting warmth that envelops me in my shower and bed. The sleep, which surrounds me in the nights, helps me to forget about the troubles which one must face when awoken. When you sleep, you do not have to think, decide, or work. The peace that is brought with sleep is one that I do not want to leave when my alarm clock goes off. How can one find reassurance in anything else? The rain outside does not help because its problems of the world. Under the covers, the warmth is soothing and problems cannot reach you. You begin to forget about the rest of the world and dream od other places, in which problems do not exist.

Simple to Complex

White is the color of the board. Fake leaves are located at the top of the board. It is lined in metal.

The board which lies in front of the classroom is portrayed as white, but there is a tint of blue where the stains of the blue ink have been erased. The board is accented with orange, yellow, and red flake leaves which twist along the top.

Through the board’s gleaming cream surface, stains of the blue ink have left traces of hard work and knowledge from classes which have come before our class. The vibrant fake leaves which are found on the top of the board signify the fall weather which has taken hold of us. Its expression is blank as we look upon is with longing eyes hungry for knowledge. The board holds many signatures of students who have placed their knowledge upon the board or taken knowledge from it. Yet, it is not the board who gives the knowledge, but the knowledge that is given on the board.

The musty board which lies in front of the students depicts the story of the classes that have come before us. The board was once held knowledge which was written along its creamy surface. The stains of knowledge have been left within the tiny particles of blue ink left in crevices of the board. This board once held imagination and creativity, but now it has grown blank with the help of the eraser which is stooped on its cold, metal rack. As a class, we stare at the board, as the board stares back at us with an empty expression. Light gleams upon its surface and is reflected unto the students who yearn to learn from the writings which were once placed on the board. The knowledge-hungry students’ desire for the board to tell them more, but it stares back blankly.