Why some people shouldn't be teachers...

Another day's over, and it's time for the usual slightly anxiety-ridden reflections. Why didn't I do this? Why didn't I do that? Why did I do THAT? Should I do that? Should I try to talk with him? Stupid questions spinning around in my head.

Woke up late, as usual. For some reason I never wake up when the alarm goes off between 6.30 and 9 in the morning. Never. If it's earlier or later, then sure, but never during that interval when I really do need to wake up. So I got late to school. The only time I'm not late for school is when I don't sleep.

There was an incident in art class today, which really got to me. I was not really in the best of moods, probably because I really don't like the assignment we're working on. We're supposed to draw a scene symbolising our every-day life, egyptian style. Why I don't like that I don't really know for sure, but I've got a few theories. It might be because we have to expose ourselves a little too much, we are only teenagers, we are vulnerable (but ofcourse we pretend we're not). And to draw a scene out of our life, we need to think about our lives. Think about what is important to us. And that's not something you want to do during class. It's not something we like doing at all. Atleast not some of us. I almost had a mental breakdown trying to figure out what to draw, trying to explain to the teacher why I was stuck. Because I have no interesting every-day life, not something I want to tell the world about.

There's this guy at my table, I never can remember his name (which annoys me, because I really should). He might not be the brightest kid in school, but he's nice. I like talking with him, and for some reason I see myself a couple of years ago in him. And I don't think he's feeling to good, I don't think he's got too much of a self confidence. And he's come to the point where you can't really hide it. Been there, done that. The teacher asked what he was drawing, and he didn't want to tell. Why not? the teacher asked. Because I don't want to tell you, you've got nothing to do with it. Why not? the teacher asked, again. Because I'm in hell right now. And then the stupid teacher starts talking about the river you travel on, and that if an art class is hell, hell isn't that bad really. I wanted to step in, to say that what hell really is, is very individual. It's not impossible at all that an art class is hell for one person. But the teacher couldn't see that, at all, and continued going on about that this isn't hell, yada yada yada. I was so mad, why couldn't he just drop the subject? Why couldn't he just move on. The guys voice changed, the way it does when someone is about to cry, willingly or not. I heard that change, and I'm suprised if the teacher didn't. If he didn't notice, he really shouldn't be a teacher. And if he did notice, and didn't care, he's a stupid bully. Either way I lost all of my respect for that teacher in that moment. Probably should add that this isn't the regular art teacher, but one we've got for this assignment only.

Question is what I should do. Should I talk with this guy, whose name I don't even know? Or should I just let go of it? Or hope that I'll be around the next time it happens and then say something? Big reflection of the night, that is I guess.

Otherwise today was a pretty good day, was kick-ass this evening, two-headed giant is funfunfun, and my deck is good for it. Atleast when your starting hand is Vein Drinker and Blood Cultist, and then mana only.

I realise now I have a math quiz tomorrow, so I probably should look into that. And physics. And that big Hamlet-assignment, maybe it's time to get started on that...?

Stupid thoughs, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!