ramblings in class
This is my life, I stare at a blank screen in notepad, and notice the blinking cursor. It taunts me. "Write me" it says. Beging for the page to be filled. I begin to write my minds words, slowly it comes out of the white noise of inconsiquential thoughts, and automatic processes that make up my blank mind.
I stare at the screen, so pristine, clear, pure. To clutter it with words almost seems a sin, but yet, the blinking cursor beckons me, commands me to type.
I follow its orders, its plea.
Why is it, when I hear someone mention God speaking to them, it frustrates me. I think "why do you need to advertise it? It doesn't need to be said. Be thankful, thank him, and heed his words. Hush and follow what he commanded."
I don't give a shit. This class is a waste of my time
I stare at the screen, so pristine, clear, pure. To clutter it with words almost seems a sin, but yet, the blinking cursor beckons me, commands me to type.
I follow its orders, its plea.
Why is it, when I hear someone mention God speaking to them, it frustrates me. I think "why do you need to advertise it? It doesn't need to be said. Be thankful, thank him, and heed his words. Hush and follow what he commanded."
I don't give a shit. This class is a waste of my time