Corrs song. Darker than what I actually feel. This was written in a much lighter vein for a change and was basically brought about by a long-winded soliloquy by a professor. Never thought I'd be doing this kind of shit in MBA.
Bewilderment is a familiar state of mind now. I'm getting increasingly lost in the glorified groves of acadame and want out as soon as possible. There are only so many monotonous soliloquies that a guy can take. Given a choice between this and the army I'd probably opt for the classroom only, but not before a grim inner struggle. I'm a firm believer in creature comforts and long wavy hair, but at least the latter wouldn't turn the contents of my cranium into mush.
I anyway was a bad listener to start with. My mind will latch on to the flimsiest of excuses to wander atrociously off the track. There've been times when I've written haikus in maths classes. And that is a subject I actually like. Boring classes inspire me towards higher metaphysical musings and I end up writing reams upon reams of inane balderdash such as this. People call me creative but the fact is that I'd probably pop a vein if I didn't have this outlet for my excess energy.
I hate sitting still in one place for more than ten minutes, unless it's a plush cushioned armchair accompanied by a 70 mm screen and popcorn. I can't even stand still and start pacing hither and thither in random places like bus stops and hostel rooms. And the oligarchs that run this joint expect me to sit still through an entire ninety minute class? My feet haven't stopped tapping for the last twenty minutes. The only saving grace is the leg room.
I'm a free man. When would people realize that? Why does the cosmos conspire to fetter me with these useless notion of competition and public acceptance? I'm an ambitious guy. I know what I want in life and am going to do my darndest to achieve it. I don't need anyone to tell me that. Just because I look like the sky fell on my head doesn't mean it did. So move on. The show is over. Find someone else to be your pet monkey.
That's not to say that I hate profs. They are well-meaning eccentric little chaps who are doing a great deal towards furthering the interests of this nation. The fault lies with me. My auditory canal rusted shut a long time back. The poor dears try their best but it's just water down the drain now. I've accepted it now. I'm a bard not a scholar. Might as well start leveraging my competency, as they say in the industry. Guess I picked up something in class after all.
Bewilderment is a familiar state of mind now. I'm getting increasingly lost in the glorified groves of acadame and want out as soon as possible. There are only so many monotonous soliloquies that a guy can take. Given a choice between this and the army I'd probably opt for the classroom only, but not before a grim inner struggle. I'm a firm believer in creature comforts and long wavy hair, but at least the latter wouldn't turn the contents of my cranium into mush.
I anyway was a bad listener to start with. My mind will latch on to the flimsiest of excuses to wander atrociously off the track. There've been times when I've written haikus in maths classes. And that is a subject I actually like. Boring classes inspire me towards higher metaphysical musings and I end up writing reams upon reams of inane balderdash such as this. People call me creative but the fact is that I'd probably pop a vein if I didn't have this outlet for my excess energy.
I hate sitting still in one place for more than ten minutes, unless it's a plush cushioned armchair accompanied by a 70 mm screen and popcorn. I can't even stand still and start pacing hither and thither in random places like bus stops and hostel rooms. And the oligarchs that run this joint expect me to sit still through an entire ninety minute class? My feet haven't stopped tapping for the last twenty minutes. The only saving grace is the leg room.
I'm a free man. When would people realize that? Why does the cosmos conspire to fetter me with these useless notion of competition and public acceptance? I'm an ambitious guy. I know what I want in life and am going to do my darndest to achieve it. I don't need anyone to tell me that. Just because I look like the sky fell on my head doesn't mean it did. So move on. The show is over. Find someone else to be your pet monkey.
That's not to say that I hate profs. They are well-meaning eccentric little chaps who are doing a great deal towards furthering the interests of this nation. The fault lies with me. My auditory canal rusted shut a long time back. The poor dears try their best but it's just water down the drain now. I've accepted it now. I'm a bard not a scholar. Might as well start leveraging my competency, as they say in the industry. Guess I picked up something in class after all.
7 comments:
Yappy Burr-day!
Fuck... I missed it. But happy burrday... I owe you a present now, don't I? Go on m'boy... choose... name anything and it shal be yours... if it comes within £5.
Dead, are we.
Also, Betty, why is it that I get the budget of 2.something and he qualifies for a 5?
Hey... are you pulling a Christie on us?
Okay, brother, how much longer do you want to be left alone now?!
Too late this reply...hope expensive gifts sometime in the future might absolve me of my sins.
Thank you So much for this Important and Useful Information.
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