Chicken soup – The Lovely Scribe
June 21, 2012 by pmaquino
I sit there staring at my binder while I write down as my professor scribble on the whiteboard which seemed nonsense all the while. I bet I looked like some moron with my head bobbing up and down due to drowsiness. At the back of my mind I think of where else I should be.
Earlier, beads start to form on my forehead while I try to perfect my punches and blocks, look straight ahead, and feel my heartbeat rushing as my thoughts wander to him. I sit in class, completely ignoring whatever else was going on in the world.
In some crazy sense I was a ghost, walking through the halls when I had no idea where I was going. At some point in my life, with all the things that I should notice, pay attention to, become senseless tasks that I was supposed to do even without my heart in it.
pRandom Writingsthoughtswritings
Chicken soup – The Lovely Scribe
June 21, 2012 by pmaquino
I sit there staring at my binder while I write down as my professor scribble on the whiteboard which seemed nonsense all the while. I bet I looked like some moron with my head bobbing up and down due to drowsiness. At the back of my mind I think of where else I should be.
Earlier, beads start to form on my forehead while I try to perfect my punches and blocks, look straight a
head, and feel my heartbeat rushing as my thoughts wander to him. I sit in class, completely ignoring whatever else was going on in the world.
In some crazy sense I was a ghost, walking through the halls when I had no idea where I was going. At some point in my life, with all the things that I should notice, pay attention to, become senseless tasks that I was supposed to do even without my heart in it.
pRandom Writingsthoughtswritings