Boredom.....

Good grief.

I feel like charlie brown.

Colorless, or the tasteless bland of grey.

Lost in thoughts and rhymes and rhythms.

Nowhere near where my thoughts are supposed to be.

How can they be.

His thoughts, his words, his lessons

Are french to me.

And I took spanish.

And this is chemistry.

So I'm all fucked up. Lol

I take that back, my thoughts are where there supposed to be.

Its this desk, this book, this class that is out of place.

This is a art school.

I'm suppose to think about the sounds

The feel of the words as they flow through me

The energy of the music as it bangs out of headphones

The stage.

The mic.

Home.

Not compounds.

Not elements, at least not in chemical sense.

A artist scribbles pictures next to me.

Stills for a comic book or something.

She hasn't stopped since we got here.

She's dope.

I think her name is muse...Or I just heard it like that.

Maybe this crap is his art,

Not ours.

Not mine.

He says newton, I think biggie.

He says equation. I think verses.

She mumbles under her breath,"Why did I take this class"

I think "cause I need it to pass"

I wonder what he thinks we think

Does he know we're only passing through here.

Only spending moments in his world waiting to catch the train to ours.

This room has no windows.

And I can't see the clock.

Wack.

Extra wack.

Maybe I should be paying attention

Pretend to be interested

Or something.

Good grief....

I feel like charlie brown.