Is it wrong that I find myself quotable? Arrogant, non?
I'm starting to think that I'm emotionally dead in some areas. How beautifully morbid and poetic that sounds. Please don't get the wrong idea: it's not inspiring. I just want to be left alone today. I'm not sure if I miss things or just want them to disappear completely. It feels as though there's been some sort of shift in the metaphysical atmosphere.
Yesterday we were set the first (and easiest) essay on Macbeth. 'Who is responsible for Duncan's death?'. I already know my answer and reasons for it but I'm going to have to trudge through details and theories before stating my conclusion. 'Hold on, isn't that the point of an essay?'...
English lessons for me are like my own little circus. There's the thirty-something cat-fanatic who thinks she's Joanna Trollope, the young bleach-blonde mother who has that infuriating habit of replacing 'g's with 'k's on the end of words like nothing and something (who was the first person to do that? And how is it even possible to make that unforgivable mistake by accident?) and thinks she's above Shakespeare while asking our teacher if she 'could 'ave that in English plaise?', the bulky young black man who is so shy he barely speaks above ant-volume (yes that is an official volume, didn't you learn about it in school? Fucking thickos) and assumed it'd be fine to write his NON-fiction essay in the genre of 'pornography' and personal favourite: Annabelle - my little entrepreneur. She sits next to me and is somehow both vivacious and deliberate at the same time. She is quite often late for a lesson but only because she's been busy buying stock for her online business or balancing books!
I'm mother-flippin' exhausted. I wish it was 7pm so I could justify going to sleep. 'Must be M.E!'
Toodley-poo!
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