second poem: college is a living hell

college is a living hell
oh, just look at how my confidence fell
from 100 to none
in one single study night
as I attempt to save myself from failing
a whole entire school year
just because of that
one pathetic algebra class
that cannot solve world hunger
nor can it cure cancer
but for some weird unspoken reason
my dear old beloved algebra teacher
won’t ever shut up about just how important it is
to know about matrices
and vectors
and the many possible ways we can solve a system
that is composed mainly of insignificant numbers
he only just randomly generated on his way to school
that very morning
but he would never say that, would he?

he lies,
not because of some greater authority that tells him to lie,
no,
he lies because he likes it
he talks about his knowledge
like it’s power
like it’s some sort of superior virtue
that would bring our torn world back together as one
when really to us students
he sounds just as unintelligible as a three year old toddler
learning to speak

I remember first day of college
I was all pumped and ready
to take life by storm
I take a look at my study syllabus
and my mouth falls open ro the floor
70 hours of boring algebra?
30 hours of abstract logic and graphs?
I mean, my god
are these people mad?
do they see maths as some sort of vitality,
that we cannot live without?
haven’t we done enough of that crap?
for twelve years we’ve been battling
the same old war
sitting through boring dull classes
absolute silent study halls
being bossed around by even more boring and dull
middle aged men and women
going through mid life crises
who think they know more about life than we do?

don’t you think it’s time for a change?

class starts at 8
and I gaze through the window to my right
lost in a daydream
unaware of my surroundings
pen held limply between my fingers
when all of a sudden
I come out of my hypnotized state
and as I look back inside
my eyes fall on the board
woah, I’m already fifty thousand chapters behind
and damn it
now I have to explain this to myself when I go home
my day is ruined and apparently now
so is my weekend
and the rest of my life, too.
as I condemn myself to boredom and misery,
and try to mould myself into a place,
that I doesn’t normally fit me
but society thinks it’s the best option
that’s destined for a student like me

and what would you do if you were me?
if giving up college was not even an option
that your parents would ever allow?
cuz I swear to god I cannot take
one more hour in lecture hall

being made to sit and not talk
about my ambitions and my dreams
unless it’s a question relevant enough to everybody
and clever enough for the teacher to pretentiously go on about
for another hour and a half
I swear to god I’ve had enough
of deadlines and restrictions, of teachers telling me:
“no, you may not use your imaginations
stay within the same group theme”

even though it’s some shit that everyone an their mother has already seen

I’m tired of you and your tired game

I’m giving up to wastefulness

joblessness

and pain

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “second poem: college is a living hell”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s