Lack of Inspiration {Tiffy}
Jun 24, 2008 21:27:17 GMT -5
Post by Drake Connelly on Jun 24, 2008 21:27:17 GMT -5
Drake walked along the corridors of the school as he hummed lightly to himself, glancing around and waving at people he came across now and then. He wasn’t necessarily friends with every single person in this school, but he liked to think that he at least knew most of them as acquaintances. He was really a people person, and the more he hung out with, the happier he was. Of course, there were some people he enjoyed hanging out with a bit more, but that was the same for everybody. Right now, however, he was not headed to really talk with anybody just yet. He’d woken up that morning with a need to write, and for that to happen, he’d need to be in a quiet environment. Outside was a no-go seeing as it was really warm and sunny today, and so most students had decided to take a walk around the school grounds, or even around the city. He figured that, seeing how many people were out, staying inside might be a good idea for once, though he usually got more inspired outside, and well, what better place to write in than the rooms reserved for creative writing?
GPA’s rooms were truly some work of art in Drake’s eyes. Well, not really masterpieces of course, they were just rooms, but still, the way they were arranged so that it’d fit everyone’s liking seemed really great in his mind. Most of the classes were given in the most normal out of all of them, the one that merely had a few desks and chairs around the room, and that was indeed a lot more comfortable most of the time to write in. But it sometimes got a bit annoying too to always be in the same environment, and Drake found that he liked having several options to choose from, because well, change was a good thing. Most of the time, anyway. Sighing a bit, he walked inside one of his favorite rooms, happy to find that, for once, it was empty. That one was by far the most comfortable of all the rooms he’d come across with several fluffy couches spread across the place, and even a few bean bags on the ground. Though he knew that most people didn’t actually sit on those to write – he’d entered the room often to find a few students who’d gathered all the bags in the middle of the place just to hang out and talk together.
Walking up to the couch that was nearest to the large window, he sat down on it and placed his bag on the ground, taking out a pad along with a few pencils and his cellphone. Leaning back, he placed the pad on his knees and simply started writing, words appearing out of nowhere onto the paper, smiling lightly as he stopped now and then to re-read what he’d written. However, feeling a need to write didn’t always necessarily come with inspiration, and sadly, it seemed to be the case today. After about half an hour, Drake found that he couldn’t even write one more sentence and he sighed, placing the pad down on the couch with a light frown. He didn’t want to head back to his dorm, or even leave the room – if he got some more inspiration later on, he’d already be here. But he knew that if he stayed here and didn’t do anything, he’d get bored quickly. After a few seconds of thinking, he smiled and grabbed his phone, figuring he might try to text someone, and knowing exactly who. His fingers swiftly moved along the cellphone and soon, he send a text to Tiffy, telling her to come to the creative writing room with the couches to meet with him.
GPA’s rooms were truly some work of art in Drake’s eyes. Well, not really masterpieces of course, they were just rooms, but still, the way they were arranged so that it’d fit everyone’s liking seemed really great in his mind. Most of the classes were given in the most normal out of all of them, the one that merely had a few desks and chairs around the room, and that was indeed a lot more comfortable most of the time to write in. But it sometimes got a bit annoying too to always be in the same environment, and Drake found that he liked having several options to choose from, because well, change was a good thing. Most of the time, anyway. Sighing a bit, he walked inside one of his favorite rooms, happy to find that, for once, it was empty. That one was by far the most comfortable of all the rooms he’d come across with several fluffy couches spread across the place, and even a few bean bags on the ground. Though he knew that most people didn’t actually sit on those to write – he’d entered the room often to find a few students who’d gathered all the bags in the middle of the place just to hang out and talk together.
Walking up to the couch that was nearest to the large window, he sat down on it and placed his bag on the ground, taking out a pad along with a few pencils and his cellphone. Leaning back, he placed the pad on his knees and simply started writing, words appearing out of nowhere onto the paper, smiling lightly as he stopped now and then to re-read what he’d written. However, feeling a need to write didn’t always necessarily come with inspiration, and sadly, it seemed to be the case today. After about half an hour, Drake found that he couldn’t even write one more sentence and he sighed, placing the pad down on the couch with a light frown. He didn’t want to head back to his dorm, or even leave the room – if he got some more inspiration later on, he’d already be here. But he knew that if he stayed here and didn’t do anything, he’d get bored quickly. After a few seconds of thinking, he smiled and grabbed his phone, figuring he might try to text someone, and knowing exactly who. His fingers swiftly moved along the cellphone and soon, he send a text to Tiffy, telling her to come to the creative writing room with the couches to meet with him.