Im happiest on my bed.

Blank insights. Blech. School and its way of enervating all traces of energy. Early mornings in the hall + bloodshot eyes + lethargic expressions and cranky remarks whilst engaging in polite chats with beings in the class and struggling tenaciously( no not really ) to defy yawns and half closed eyes = A morning person i am not. Yoda'd be proud of me. The jedi-in-training. Ha di ha. Moving on , the infrequent-now-becoming-a-bloody-ritual brief flame-igniting encounter with oddly structured schnozzle foreigner who prevails in extricating any slight hint of fatigue as im too immersed in rage of plotting a callous sadistic death. All thoughts potrayed into actions by my voluntary conscious. Even by the mere gander of a nanosecond , i'd envisage the gruesome of all gruesomes. This is all done mentally. Honestly what is wrong with me? And summing up to the side-effects of Hajar , that fucking psychopathic bitch who i think mistook me as a test subject for her experiments of How-much-pain-can-a-human-endure by of course knocking the edges of her tightly gripped fist straight to my frail limbs slash twisting my palms abruptly in the midst of a teacher's explaination which leads me to yell by reflex followed by death glares from the teacher and i reciprocate with an expression that bawls out FRUSTRATION