Going to School
I wake up in the morning, the start of another miraculous day. The glorious rays sun shines through my windows, light up my room and enlivens me. I brush my teeth until they are dazzling white. I unhurriedly pick out my outfits. What shall it be? Casual, dressy, normal tees, or crop tees? Cardigan, shrugs, blazer, or hoodie? The immeasurable and everlasting choices. Oh, when can I ever finish deciding? After I've finally come to decision, oh my, it's already 6:30! I gracefully waltz down the stairs, and devoured my breakfast in 1 minute, then dashed to my lavatory. I hastily smoothed out my hair, adding a headband or some fancy clips, and flew down to steps to take the school bus. The bus was on time, eagerly waiting for me to board. I carefully sat down on the seat, for I did not want to ruffle my precious and holy hair. After a while of sitting upright, I gave in and leaned on the soft and snug headrest. I fell asleep dreaming of nothing in particular, for it was the start of another wondrous day, so I have no need to dream since the day will be perfect and extraordinary anyways. Regrettably, I did not care to think about the horrid and unbelievably cruel amount of homework my teachers are going to give me, just like this arduous and troublesome journal. How, just how, can we write so elegantly, when we speak in such common ways in our everyday conversations?
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