As a student, my job is to walk reluctantly,

hesitantly, through the irrevocably, uncannily

annoying sea of gossip and slang and just about everything

that isn't academically,

educationally sound.

It's profound, how very loud

their chit chatter can be as they huddle and move

freely, yet erratically

like an ocean wave of ignorance and stupidity,

like one big swarm of bumblebees

that only really bumble on about nonsense and irrelevant facts and figures,

like saints patronizing sinners,

which...to be honest, is kind of how I feel. 

Now, this isn't to say that I think myself superior

to the crowds of sluggish, one-minded fools

who tend to have some sort of ulterior motives to their

lagging behind in the hallways of my school,

but this also isn't to say that I think myself inferior

to the...crowds of sluggish, one-minded fools

who tend to have some sort of ulterior motives to their

lagging behind in the...

hallways of my school, which I have always hated. Always.

You know what would make commuting in this school a whole lot easier?
A boat. Or a golf cart. Or a segue way. Or a scooter.

Though, if I had any one of those,

I would probably just leave the school building.

I would be leaving on a boat, or a golf cart, or a segue way,

or I would be leaving on a scooter,

or I would be leaving on a jet plane...

except I can't really do that.

Because I have classes that require my attention,

but the chances that I will arrive there on time and am allowed submission

into the class with no consequences

is fairly slim, and if this crowd ahead of me doesn't start

walking faster

than that small percentage of hope that was left in my brain before

will be slain by the sword of their idiocy and insanity,

and all my teacher will be getting from me for the first ten minutes of class will be,

"Sorry I was late, but those dumb bi...ckering kids wouldn't walk very fast

and the way that their pants were sagging near their a...cedia-riddled behinds

was making it rather difficult for me to get around them."
Granted, my teacher has probably heard all of this before,

but it's worth a shot, isn't it?

to try to find some sympathy or empathy

for the fact that I was at least trying

to be punctual for his class,

even if those stupid a...pathetic kids in the hallways

weren't trying to do the same

and even if their relativistic mass in relation to me

is about two hundred billion...something,

because I don't really know that much about science,

but I do know that if a huge group of annoying children

is just standing there in the middle of the hallway,

then I'm probably going to be late for my next class.

Sorry, teachers of the world,

but your students tend to bunch up in huge herds

that roam and graze freely in the tiled streets 

that are supposed to take me to your room,

but instead they take me on a mystical journey

through foolishness and lunacy.

But hey, I mean, at least now I know that

Kylie's sister's boyfriend's mom is out of prison

and that said boyfriend's mom's ex-husband is now in prison

and at least now I know who sells what

and where to find them

and when and what to tell them to get exactly what I want...

not that I would. But I guess it's nice to know that

because, I mean, that's useful information, right?

That'll make me pass all my classes...right?

Sadly, I don't think an appropriate answer to

"Why did Gulliver help the Lilliputians?"

is 

"Because...because Lacey's sister is dating someone new?"