Schoolophrenic

By
My name is Jocelyn and I love School. I am such an early bird. I hate sleeping late because I think it’s a waste of a beautiful day. My favorite activity is, of course, school. During the summer, all I can think about is that wonderful day in September when we walk back into school and I see the freshly painted walls, buffed floor tiles, and the invigorating smell of a new school year. School even with all of its work and reports and long hours makes me feel so incredibly energized like I just drank twenty Red Bulls.

When people see me in the hall in the morning they think, “Wow why is she so tired”. Little do they know that deep down I am definitely not tired in any way shape or form. I am the greatest deceiver in the world. This is because I know that every day I come to school super psyched for a wonderfully fact-filled day of interesting learning in my favorite educational institution.
My favorite subject, and the one I most look forward to when I get up at precisely 6 am, is my writer’s workshop class. I love to come up with brilliant pieces of work for the world to lay their eyes upon. Such as my wonderful mind-boggling poetry that is constantly published, and I am commended for. Besides writer’s workshop, I can’t stop thinking about the moment I get to walk into earth science: the time when I get to learn about all the wonderful things that like the rocks, trees, bugs, rodents, grass, and seas. I bet that one day I will be on Jeperdy and the daily double will be, “How many toes does a three-toed sloth have.” I will be the only one to answer because I paid attention in earth science.
I just can’t wait until I finally get to walk through those halls for another 180 days of the most amazing, thought provoking, school year ever.

My name is Jocelyn and I hate school. I hate waking up early. I love sleeping late because I’m really lazy all the time, and I don’t care about anything in the morning. My most hated activity of all activities is of course the dreaded, hated, despised, institution we call school. During the summer, all I can think about is that most fateful and terrifying day in September when the “Man” puts his foot down upon us all subjecting us to those halls of doom, floors of ferocity, and the deathly smell of the school itself. School, due to its insensitivity and long, boring, and painful hours, makes me feel like jumping off something very tall.

When people see me in the hall in the morning they think, “Wow, she is really tired…I know how she feels”. To their complete and utter surprise that is how I really feel! Little do the know that deep down I am so incredibly tired that I would rather cut off my leg and sleep than to spend eight hours in this place they call “a coolio schoolio.” I laugh at their naiveté. I know I am ready to die during another horribly fact-filled day of boring literature and speeches in my most certainly unnecessary educational institution in the entire solar system.
My most hate of all subjects is the most boring class ever, writer’s workshop which finds a necessity to start at the crack of dawn time of 7:25 am. I must sit in front of a computer and be watched while I type out a very long and very boring piece of work all about my teen angst’s like this one. It’s as if the world has nothing better to do than read my work and discuss the idiosyncrasies of my style, which I call, yo no careo y estoy muy tiredo. Another one of my oh-so-very-lovely classes which I could never dare to miss is earth science. I am just oh so happy and on the edge of my seat to learn about rocks, bugs, rodents, grass, and can you believe it, TREES! I mean I’m sure that some day terrorists will kill me unless I can tell them an endangered genus of trees or how many toes a three toed sloth has.
I just can’t wait until I get to walk out of the halls after another 180 torturous days of the most painful and excruciating school year ever. I better get going to find something tall.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback