Oh how I envy people who develop close bonds with their teachers (especially Paul and his highschool art teacher). I can never seem to make that connection except for my instructors who're relatively my same age... I can see the bonds beginning to form (finally) at the end of my freshman year. Ms. T, my VisualDesign teacher, is a lot of fun to be with, and she gives a lot of constructive criticism (not to mention she wants to steal my sis and I away from our parents). The "Three Musketeers" who're my english, careers, and another english teacher (don't have her) are really close (a la Boston Public) and I, more than once, get caught up in their schemes.
Oh boy... Music is invading every pore of my body, seeping into my mind as I can feel it chilling my spine as it travels down to where my feet touch carpet. I can hardly breathe; it's so beautiful. Completely undescribable, even for a quasi-poet like I. I'm scared. I feel as if someone dowsed me with chilled water and set the fan on high. I can feel my soul trying to free itself again from this cage of flesh...
... I'm sorry, I get this way sometimes. I love music, can't you tell?
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