one morning.

01:22

I'm sitting here, in this 9am lecture, still hazed and blurry from an evening's habberdash, and the lecturer i find speaks in such a manner that makes it easy for my eyes to wander. There are 3 things in this room, for which i find a suitable distraction, one is the glossy finish of the fresh new ipod, displaying a simple concept of a game that we can only find so addictive. What simple minds, to lack interest in something so in depth as science, yet find such wondrance in the simplest things, like the pattern of leaves, the reflection of things in the gloss finish, such distractions have an exponential effect on my ability to procrastinate. The other is the dream i repeatedly gaze into, sticking there in my minds eye, that feeling of falling through the bed into a worlds unknown, idiolising your perfect self, imaging the perfect woman. There she is. The third participle in my affair of ineducation. She sits there, seemingly oblivious to the 10,000 thoughts running through my head. Funny really, if only we could know what goes on behind those blank stares of those sitting with us, what parallel thought processes and thoughts we may also have. She shimmers in the hazy morning glow of the flourescent tube, the black hair caressing her face, supporting it, complimenting her constantly. A hand of hers changes position,  reaches to her face and rubs her temple as she lowers her glasses onto her nose and stares onto the blank notebook. She is in the same mindset as I, only wishing she was somewhere else, maybe she wants to be swept off her feet, her legs tapping constantly implying she needs something, or someone. Damn, i wish i was that someone. I could be that someone. Damnit, dream on, hazey eyes.