Morning Thoughts.

This was mainly a journal of thoughts I had during my first period this morning. It's similar to my "5th Period" entry I did a while back.

I detest my first period. English bores me. Not moreso than my instructor, though. His appearance is simply bland. Tall, pale man with greying hair. To make his lack of visual interest worse, he has an even less amusing, monotonous tone. His attitude is severely critical and his manner, condescending. I would kill to be able to sleep in this class. Unfortunately, I think he senses my heavy dislike for him, and as a merely pathetic attempt to get back at me, he constantly calls upon me for answers. The novel we're reading is positively boring, and I find literary analysis is just pointless. I mean, how do WE know that's the message the author hopes to convey? Maybe they just wrote for the hell of it. That's one thing I dislike about humans, always trying to find a motive behind everything. For once, why can't people just accept things at face value?

I grab my phone from my bag and flash it to the clock, screaming 8:09 AM at me. Nineteen minutes. I didn't eat this morning and my stomach twists and makes horrible noises. Guess I'm not the only one hungry. My friend turns around and whispers something about the boy two seats up with food in his bag.

I refocus on class as my teacher asks what the author wants us to feel. Again, I wonder if I was intended to feel anything. Maybe it was just a good story? Anything can affect human emotinos. Maybe it's not the author, maybe it's just us. Besides, who determines "great literature" anyways?

My teacher is beginning his 'Hovering Rounds,' so I'm closing now to do my assignment.