Crawl into me and write on my whiteboard. Tell me what it is on the blankness ahead – stark and glistening. Visceral mark making overtakes you. It’s fluid the way it just spills out of you. Watch as the words disappear and new ones appear. A whole sentence crafted into the shape of a silhouette, a shadow, and a sideshow. What you wrote was an exchange of desires and of long-lingering glances at what you’ve abandon throughout this time…
on the whiteboard it describes a life that is unforgetable, earaseable but also limitless. Be the one that is memorable before it is rubbed out. It is the chase of life that excites everyone.
She swept the marker across the whiteboard, her students giggling from behind. she turned around to face them, she gestured to what she drew and said “This is a cat.” The class of youngsters then giggled some more.
My eyes drift back and forth from the whiteboard to my paper. Mrs. Lexington was writing down things for our test, she had never taught us before. I raised my hand when I had finally had enough, and asked to go to the bathroom. I grabbed the pass and made my way down the long hallway. I pushed the bathroom door open, the three people in there were juuling, and me opening the door let all their smoke leave the room. I ignored their stares and just stood in front of the mirror for a few seconds. “Need a hit, James?” “I’m good, thanks bro.”
My eyes drift back and forth from the whiteboard to my paper. Mrs. Lexington was writing down things for our test, she had never taught us before. I raised my hand when I had finally had enough, and asked to go to the bathroom. I grabbed the pass and made my way down the long hallway. I pushed the bathroom door open, the three people in there were juuling, and me opening the door let all their smoke leave the room. I ignored their stares and just stood in front of the mirror for a few seconds. “Need a hit, James?” “I’m good, thanks bro.”
Whiteboards are nostalgic. They remind me of school. Though, I hate school. School is awful. I enjoy drawing on whiteboards. It can be fun. They com in different sizes.
Squeaky clean. You’re never squeaky clean. There’s always a smear that will never go away, like a red wine stain. I whine. I would like some cheese and crackers to go with that whine. I don’t drink wine. I never liked it. Too bitter for my taste, but I’m bitter about a never clean whiteboard!
the whiteboard always reminds me about how bad my handwriting is. It always makes me feel embarrassed – one because of my height, i would always not be able to reach the top of the whiteboard in the office meetings & the other my bad hand writing. But its fun – when you try to reach the top & your height laughs at you
The words were written in plain English on the whiteboard, yet Jake still struggled to understand it. “Why was this happening?” his mind wondered, frantically. “Why today?” The sweat had began to gather on his forehead already as he took his seat. The pressure was mounting, but he took a minute to steel himself. He stole one more gaze up at the whiteboard, his teacher’s formal clean cut writing seeming to jump off the page and kick him where the sun don’t shine. Just three words…
I wasn’t sure what to do with my spare time in that classroom all by myself, so I decided to draw something on the whiteboard. It started as a square, but it ultimately transformed into a beaten down treasure chest, guarded by a crooked-necked dragon with green scales and three wings (who knew what the third wing was responsible for). When I was done with my masterpiece, my social studies teacher finally showed up, and his face was a perfect combination of both bewilderment and pleasant surprise.
a whiteboard is a boring kind of board. you have to put colors in it. i like blackboards,they’re better. what do you think? i like using chalk to write.
The squeak of the marker against the white board calmed her as her pencil moved across the page. Math class. Math at least made sense to her. She let the numbers continue their gentle rhythm, waves of logic and reasoning moving into focus as she let the rest of the world drift away.
Crawl into me and write on my whiteboard. Tell me what it is on the blankness ahead – stark and glistening. Visceral mark making overtakes you. It’s fluid the way it just spills out of you. Watch as the words disappear and new ones appear. A whole sentence crafted into the shape of a silhouette, a shadow, and a sideshow. What you wrote was an exchange of desires and of long-lingering glances at what you’ve abandon throughout this time…
its white and we use it to teach our class students in kuala lumpur malaysia
you drew on me like I was a whiteboard
like I wasn’t already filled with vivid colors
the whiteboard that was your personality
left little to nothing for insanity
on the whiteboard it describes a life that is unforgetable, earaseable but also limitless. Be the one that is memorable before it is rubbed out. It is the chase of life that excites everyone.
She swept the marker across the whiteboard, her students giggling from behind. she turned around to face them, she gestured to what she drew and said “This is a cat.” The class of youngsters then giggled some more.
My eyes drift back and forth from the whiteboard to my paper. Mrs. Lexington was writing down things for our test, she had never taught us before. I raised my hand when I had finally had enough, and asked to go to the bathroom. I grabbed the pass and made my way down the long hallway. I pushed the bathroom door open, the three people in there were juuling, and me opening the door let all their smoke leave the room. I ignored their stares and just stood in front of the mirror for a few seconds. “Need a hit, James?” “I’m good, thanks bro.”
My eyes drift back and forth from the whiteboard to my paper. Mrs. Lexington was writing down things for our test, she had never taught us before. I raised my hand when I had finally had enough, and asked to go to the bathroom. I grabbed the pass and made my way down the long hallway. I pushed the bathroom door open, the three people in there were juuling, and me opening the door let all their smoke leave the room. I ignored their stares and just stood in front of the mirror for a few seconds. “Need a hit, James?” “I’m good, thanks bro.”
clean, new, beginning, start over, re try, growth, possibility, creativity, ideas, mapping, planning,
tight cord, blightlord, might explore, fat thor, highlord, ripcord, pullcord, old nord, nice ford.
Whiteboards are nostalgic. They remind me of school. Though, I hate school. School is awful. I enjoy drawing on whiteboards. It can be fun. They com in different sizes.
Love can never be avoided, can never be overlooked – just feel it and move ahead.
whiteboards are fun. they are also sometimes very dangerous. They ae coo, too. they are very ex
‘this is what you’re going to do, and this is how you’re going to do it,’ her presence said.
Squeaky clean. You’re never squeaky clean. There’s always a smear that will never go away, like a red wine stain. I whine. I would like some cheese and crackers to go with that whine. I don’t drink wine. I never liked it. Too bitter for my taste, but I’m bitter about a never clean whiteboard!
the whiteboard always reminds me about how bad my handwriting is. It always makes me feel embarrassed – one because of my height, i would always not be able to reach the top of the whiteboard in the office meetings & the other my bad hand writing. But its fun – when you try to reach the top & your height laughs at you
bored
ford
cord
lord
The words were written in plain English on the whiteboard, yet Jake still struggled to understand it. “Why was this happening?” his mind wondered, frantically. “Why today?” The sweat had began to gather on his forehead already as he took his seat. The pressure was mounting, but he took a minute to steel himself. He stole one more gaze up at the whiteboard, his teacher’s formal clean cut writing seeming to jump off the page and kick him where the sun don’t shine. Just three words…
“POP QUIZ TODAY!”
I wasn’t sure what to do with my spare time in that classroom all by myself, so I decided to draw something on the whiteboard. It started as a square, but it ultimately transformed into a beaten down treasure chest, guarded by a crooked-necked dragon with green scales and three wings (who knew what the third wing was responsible for). When I was done with my masterpiece, my social studies teacher finally showed up, and his face was a perfect combination of both bewilderment and pleasant surprise.
a whiteboard is a boring kind of board. you have to put colors in it. i like blackboards,they’re better. what do you think? i like using chalk to write.
I wrote your name a plethora of times of a whiteboard,
Yet, our love is like nails on the chalkboard.
The squeak of the marker against the white board calmed her as her pencil moved across the page. Math class. Math at least made sense to her. She let the numbers continue their gentle rhythm, waves of logic and reasoning moving into focus as she let the rest of the world drift away.
whiteboards are very cool. my friens has one. he falls a lot on it. he told me to buy one one time and I said no. He got