(no subject)
I no longer fear anything that may come to me in my life for I have spent two fucking hours sitting in line in the advisement office at OCC. Because that was Hell. I damn near tapped an indentation into the ground while waiting, numbly watching the woman who was sitting next to me reach menopause. The real kicker of it all, the thing that made me want to face the endless traffic jams of the Pennsylvanian highway system just to grab some illegal fireworks to celebrate the whole mutilated occasion is that I didn't even have to go there. Nope. Not one second of my time should have been spent there because when I told the person whom I met at student central that I wanted to wallow away my time by being a writer and that I should be under Humanities he just stared at me, pointed for me to go down the hall and ask an adviser. "Just to make sure." Sure enough, I should be under Humanities. Well I'm just sure he should have been a blow job.
All of the classes that I will be taking are all the ones that I failed in the past. This time, God willing, I may actually pass some of them. I should. I won't be neither drunk nor high when I come to class *right now I'm having a horrible flashback of one of the times I came to school drunk and flashed the table behind me my bum*
I got all of my grades from the three semesters that I went. I'm surprised by some of them. Especially the grade I got for my Intro into Journalism class. Myself, and this kid named Dan were the only two people there who answered any of the teacher's questions. I was so jealous of him. We were in competition as it seemed. If he knew the name of the President of Zimbabwe then that night I would learn the name of the President of Nambla. If he knew the population of a certain country I would go out and try to populate a country. And so on. It ended abruptly when I learned that his mother had crossed a line at the School of the Americas wheras the only line my mother has ever crossed is that of the one at the opening of a new Dunk 'n Donuts.
All of the classes that I will be taking are all the ones that I failed in the past. This time, God willing, I may actually pass some of them. I should. I won't be neither drunk nor high when I come to class *right now I'm having a horrible flashback of one of the times I came to school drunk and flashed the table behind me my bum*
I got all of my grades from the three semesters that I went. I'm surprised by some of them. Especially the grade I got for my Intro into Journalism class. Myself, and this kid named Dan were the only two people there who answered any of the teacher's questions. I was so jealous of him. We were in competition as it seemed. If he knew the name of the President of Zimbabwe then that night I would learn the name of the President of Nambla. If he knew the population of a certain country I would go out and try to populate a country. And so on. It ended abruptly when I learned that his mother had crossed a line at the School of the Americas wheras the only line my mother has ever crossed is that of the one at the opening of a new Dunk 'n Donuts.