My Love Of Writing

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I did not always share a love or appreciation of writing, however for as far back as I can remember I have always had a love for art. I can remember intensely eyeing the clock in school waiting for the little hand to strike on the hour signaling the time for a change of classes, with each strike on the hour bringing me closer to my cherished Art class. However, every day one dreaded class stood between me and my passion for art, my writing class. I swear the clock never ran slower than it did during English, I truly couldn’t have cared less for reading or writing. It was 7th grade a new year, new teachers, staring at my class schedule I quickly realized nothing has changed, scheduled right before sixth period art class was my nemesis English and Writing class.
The time came for the first English class of the year, I took my seat in the back of the class slumped way down in the seat in hopes I would not be noticed as I scribbled doodles on the cover of my writing notebook. Mrs. Roberts walked in the room with her brownish grey hair rolled up in a in a tight bun, glasses that rested at the tip of her nose, and a stern look on her face, she reminded me of a strict librarian. The feeling of angst quickly washed over me and I remember thinking that this would surely be my most odious writing class thus far. I could feel my anxiety levels shoot up to record levels as sweat beads started to form on my forehead. As Mrs. Roberts pulled out her chalk, I quickly placed my fingers in
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