Neologisms

Neologisms are a sign of schizophrenia, said my Psych textbook.
It worries me.

On Monday, I stayed at the computer lab until 5 to finish my English, and as I wrote, it rained and rained and rained and rained, and the world melted in the rain, and even after I was done, it was raining torrentially, so I stepped outside under the portico, and the anti-island indentationaty-places of the plaza all became pools, and the soaked boys played and jumped and threw water at one another and the soaked birds flew, and I was just so happy I felt like laughing silently for an eternity,
and I walked under the portico until I reached the main office.

The tired granite floors there had little black footprints all over where they absorbed water, like shingles. It was still a forever-distance to the dorm from the main office, so I traced water all over the floor as I contemplated whether or not I should return to the dorm.
When the rain didn't stop, I wrote "LOVE" on the floor and ran for the dorms with my cellphone tucked into a plastic folder.

On the way, I met a bunch of soaked dragonflies dancing in the rain. I apologized for crashing into them so suddenly, and I must have looked hilarious with a flimsy folder held over my head. I really wanted to laugh for an eternity.

Love is when you're not sure where your feelings have gone, but then you realize you would gladly give up anything in your life if it made them happier,
and my English papers want to know if you can claim artistic license for English class.