He sat there waiting with angry anticipation. His stomach felt light. All that needed to be said had passed an hour ago. This was just longwinded validation and mundane formalities in which all had already been implied. Some people really love the sound of their own voice, he thought to himself. He had noticed long ago that the more education they had received the more they felt they needed to talk. It was endless. They were a mass of indoctrinated puppets that sat there spewing other peoples ideas, except they had butchered the meaning for their own validation. It was wordy fluff and it never stopped. How many ways can you say the same goddamn thing? Apparently there was an infinite amount. He couldnt believe it was taking this long. Okay, we all fucking get it! he screamed in his head. His face was warm. He looked around the room; blank stares formed a wall of boredom. He wondered why they all didnt just leave. It was obvious they all were tired of the routine barking of the instructor. I should just walk out, he knew he couldnt. His conditioning was already too great. So he sat quietly. His face was now on fire. He stared to the front of the room. Hurry the fuck up! Hurry the fuck up! Hurry the fuck up! he began chanting in his head. He was disgusted by this display of self-gratification. He must be getting off on this, he was sure of it. The sound of papers rustling began creeping in. A volley of zippers opening and closing followed it. The monotony of the speakers voice suddenly changed. A sense of urgency had been installed and rush of speed came over the words. Yes, finally! a flash of relief came over his body. So for next time please complete it was no use, no one was listening anymore. They were all free. He packed up his papers, put on his headphones, and began to walk out the room. See you next week! were the last blurbs of sound he caught before the noise was drowned by the electric drums and spoken vocals, which flowed from the headphones. It was an oddly cold spring night and he made his trek home. Next week I should stay home, he thought but he knew he couldnt.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
1.What is your favorite place to visit?
2.What is your favorite place to eat?
3.What is your favorite place to just be?
1. it is tough but i would have to say london. it is fun!
2. my mom's kitchen. she is a great cook and taught me almost everything i know. plus, no dishes!
3. in bed. preferably with my lady.