" A teacher affects eternity ; he can never tell where his influence stops" -Henry Adams
In life I had many teachers who each left a mark on my mind and soul. One of them stood out from the rest, he claimed my mind and my soul in a cold and swift breeze. He grabbed my attention and played with my thoughts as he saw fit. He is the one who made me say things like "back when I was.." or "before I used to.." , this professor seemed to look at all things from a simpler point of view, still giving everything the same equal right of respect. He taught me so many things, not all of which i liked but still...he taught me more than anyone else could teach me from a book or a picture or even a work of art. For that he is my favourite professor; My favourite professor is Death.
He is often hated by people cause he seems to make many things turn black. But isn't that how things should end? Life is a beautiful thing, but such a thing needs to have an ending , one that is appropriate and respectful of that beauty. That is what my professor taught me. That was my professor's first lesson. Tho i didn't like his way or method of showing it to me. His first class started when I was 11 and my uncle passed away at the age of 48. My professor came to me and gave me a list of questions, and told me to look over them, and he said that understanding life begins with asking these questions.
What is death?...What is loss?...Are you ever ready for death?
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My Favourite Professor (1)
General Fictiona little something, more like a foot through an old door.
