High School (full version)

High school: all the things you hate about your life spawned into reality. It's a bit like an acid trip, but only some of the people are on drugs. The noise can get deafening, time seems to freeze, and, of course all the equally annoying things you learn to ignore. They kind of become the melody of daily life; buzzing, slamming, people talking at, instead of to each other. That reminds me, have you noticed the temperature is never comfortable? It's like a real version of Goldilocks without the talking bears.
This education, deemed necessary, becomes a place to practice your survival tactics, in a manner of ways. You rush through it half-heartedly, oblivious at times, often intentionally.

It becomes a way to numb yourself through.

If you do stop for a moment, say, as a way to take as long as possible to get to your next class, you begin to notice the things you tune out. Graffiti, unidentifiable substances, and mysterious odors, suddenly spring out at you, as if waiting in the shadows for you to notice them. Then you spy the sickening glare of the fluorescent lights on the tile. You question why they bothered to use tile in the first place. Cost effective, or as a way to enhance the dungeon-esqe feel?
You suddenly snap out of your reverie because some oaf with an over-active pituitary gland slams into you and, without hesitation, continues on his way.

The joys of daily life.

So you advance to class, with your newly bruised shoulder. You couldn't care any less about this class, but you care about school so you attend it. So you sit slouched and listen to a man as old as the history you're learning about, talk about something you don't need to know. Shifting a bit, the seat won't give. Oh, right! No freedom to move in those horrid desk-chair offspring. Something guaranteed to drive you mad.

Or has it already happened?

pt.2

Cynical. That’s how I’d describe myself in three words or less. I observe though. I sit and I watch. Or I crack jokes that get the nerdy kids to break a smile.
I don’t look forward to anything, and no, I’m not suicidal, abused, or anything else for that matter. I’m sorry I don’t fit your teenage stereotype. I’m just who I decide to be that morning. Keeps things fresh. I shock, I amaze, I just plain freak the hell out of people at times. It gives me my kicks.
Yes, I’m still stuck under the fluorescent lights that could make Heidi Klum seem ugly. Or whomever you want, you get my point.
That oaf who crashed into me the other day, I saw him again, near knocked over one of the freshman. Poor kid. And of course he kept on going, like nothing happened. I hope karma bites him in the ass.
Yea, I sound harsh, whatever. I can’t be bothered to spend all my time self reflecting. There are too many tests for that to happen. Ha! Standardized tests are to blame for society’s inability to give a shit. Sorry. I’m in a weird mood. A weirder mood than usual that is, not that you can tell.
I gotta admit, I’m jealous of the people who complain they are normal and boring. Ain’t nothing like my friends. The art freaks. I have a love-hate relationship with this bunch. Lately, they have just made me queasy. It’s nice being able to have an innuendo free conversation. Then again, art and insanity seem to go hand in hand. I wonder if it’s possible to be creative and not cut your ear off. Okay, so maybe not that drastic, but all the famous artists were either blind or insane. And most of them got famous after they died. How bleary.
So I guess my plan is to act like a nut, paint melting clocks with my mustache, if I can grow one being a girl, then die poor. Or something like that. That’s what I’ve got to work with so far. Yeck!
You’re wondering why I talk this way about art? Well I already told you I’m cynical. And there are only so many times you can watch people stroke jars of applesauce or have knife fights in the middle of the art room. Sounds fun to you doesn’t it? Madness is amusing.
Gahh! I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I’m getting pressure from every source because I don’t know where to go to college. And then there are the ACTs and the SATs. I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast.
You’re not listening are you?