The Fun Of Education

What am I thinking about???? The lecture goes on & like a vicious cycle it refuses to end. I'm wondering how they call it the Class of communication when everyone is SO purposely mute! With droopy eyes and a failing concentration, I 'work' diligently to grasp onto anything remotely interesting. Left row, second bench, 1st seat, it feels I am chained TO the Class. The noisy fans and the quiet professor( Had someone cut off the oxygen supply?) conjure a fading effect. Grinding my teeth to the voice of the man, I look at the girls and think that how in the world can they even pretend to be interested? All I can see is the misplaced buckle of my professor's belt, which itself is finding it hard to make his trouser hold on to his potruding belly. The untucked shirt too catches my attention, but I'm sure that he gives a damn about it. An innocent assasin or a listless murderer, unpurposely, I hope, he puts daggers to the heart of the excitement, that the subject had once been! They say he's one of the most knowledgable people around. So what should I attribute my lack of interest, in him, in the class and in the surroundings? Why is my grip on the pen so damn tight? The bushy plaque of the girl sitting in front of me brooms the dust off my table. Irritated that I already was, now I'm going nuts. But the view outside brings a rosy distraction, the people look so happy and chirpy. Thinking of an escape route, I imagine myself disappearing, POOF!!!..am gone... No no no, I can become invisible...Make the clock strike 12...no maybe 2...it can be lunchtime..I can go anywhere..or just sit here chatting with friends. But no...you know what can be better than anything...If all the proffesors called the day off, or I could just stand up, shake the man by his shoulders, place his buckle right and tell him to end his series of 'not-so-interesting' jokes, at which we have to forcefully laugh on. They say he notes your every movement. Well frankly, I give a sh#@. Am not gonna stay here for long. Let me jump out of the window, sit in the cafeteria, munch on a sandwitch and enjoy a hot cappachino and mock the educated dingbags sitting inside. The cafeteria can be my open castle and I can be the unknown King...Yup the title would suit me just fine. Finally I recieve a tug on my shirt.Come out of it she said...the class is over...But the next one begins...