Sitting in a dreamy daze,trying to discard myself from the sound of my peers happily being content,studying at school.Adam Kelly,a specled,snobbish simpleton,presumed intellegent because of his glasses,oh how stereotypes can be false,is as usual being an arrogant fool."Hippies are so fucking stupid,they should all get lifes".Although ironically Adam actually listen to bamds considered 'Hippyish', he also hasint ventured outside to friends in years,yielding a 'Fuck off' sign to anyone who attempts to be pally with him.He also has a dislike for 'scangers' meaning that unless your completley mediocre,and have no style,he shall hate you."A wonderful way to live life" I say,chuckling to myself.Hippy funnily comes from the word 'hip',used by hippies in the 60's as cool,thus making those who hate hippys hip,a somewhat confusing concept.To be a hippy in these terrible times is to say you like Dance music when its actually called "commercial trance",wearing tracksuits in which I personally find as appealing as sticking my penis in the mouth of a pitbull yet,unlike Adam Kelly,I allow people to choose their own style,although I may attempt to influence it.

The chair I occupy is warm.Shes late, hopefully absent.Whoever that is should shut the fuck up.Oh right,I hate that dick.He never stated what the acronyms stood for,presumably "alienated jester" or somesuch.She arrives,her fists clenched,aging face apperaring like it has botox in order to give her fellow workers a false impression.I step inside the hell,Lucifers second form stands at the front,her fellow devil two doors down.Adams lame strut contrasting marvellously to his specled face and white wisp along his otherwise perfect teeth.Although my comments towards him radiate utter pessimism,I have always had a soft spot for him,considering him my friend,me,Dave and Billys whipping boy perhaps,knowing his mask of words is a way of battling insecurity,or perhaps his parents have diplayed negative views towards individuality.

I sit down,rotating between slouching and swinging on my chair.I dont listen as she tends not to listen to me,rendering my comments unworthy of a response,instead collecting journals and punishing us proving more important than answering the questions of a befuddled student.I dismiss her enquiry about my homework with a mere shrug thus having my suitcases packed for me.I venture to the toilets,avoiding the 3 major figures of authority.Nearly there,im stopped by a gnarling rat.Its ugly hair,sickining moans,lack of humour and droning groaning grunt make it a horrible sight,I humour it,have it scrape my note and enter the area in which the spawns lie,sit in my chair,indulging in a conversation with Daniel,my best friend,my portrait in looks but not luck.A plump figure,dangling curls,teeth to match his personality and a bronze complexion,being a half of half Italian.Yet his grotesque premolars halt him not in the pursue of the ladies.Confidence,like my other reckless companion,radiates off him like light from heavens eye.

Finally it ends,I walk from the class for the break.Time is an anarchist,It does not what you tell it,when you want it slow,it sprints.Fast?It moves like an injured insect.I sit next torture with David,a friend of mine with more depth than a first chat would show.

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