Classical Observations of a Self-Absorbed

14:11: My (or am I supposed to be detached?) classics professor speaks of “niggling questions.” I had to look up what “niggling” means for the purpose of my observations.

2:12 pm: The professor lifts his two hands, and pushes my invisible spirit off of his podium with great force.

2:10 pm: A girl in front of me strokes her hair five times in succession. I hope this doesn’t become niggling.

2:10:45 pm: I am confused as to why the girl has to feel her chocolate strands in front of me five times in succession. Does she know that I’m secretly salivating?

2:06 pm: I arrive late to class.

14:00: The classics professor makes introductions to the class. My spirit observes his perspiring scalp and the sigh of relief his thankful Panama straw-hat makes upon feeling the chilled surface of the inorganic laminated desk next to the podium. 

2:21 pm: I catch the phrase “The House of Oedipus.”

2:22 pm: I receive a call from my mother. Luckily no one seems to oberve the irony of this, or the sound my cheeks make when they try to hide behind the crimson pool forming at the surface.

2:24:50 pm: The girl in front of me strokes her chocolate strands again.

2:25:05 pm: The girl in front of me strokes her chocolate streaks yet again. I’m starting to get annoyed, both at myself, and the girl who seems to love the feel of her hair more than I would. The girl sitting next to her doesn’t seem to notice or care.

2:27 pm: The girl with the obsessive need to taunt me with her Willy Wonka chocolate rivered hair combines the flow of the aqueous strands and pulls them into a concentrated sweet stream over her shoulder. I can’t help but think of a water hose.

2:28 pm: I’m pretty sure the girl knows that I am writing inner-monologues about her hair because she throws her head back, and with it the hair. Everything is in order; I hope for good.

2:31 pm: I become concerned that my audience will find my writing surreal.

2:32 pm: A student to my left is sleeping. I wonder what he is dreaming of. Does he too think of the girl in front of me, who again strokes her hair teasingly at 2:32 pm?

2:34: I start to daydream about meeting my poetry. I think I’m smirking at my own cleverness because there is a girl wearing a casual blazer (probably a business student, or pre-law) giving me an economically odd look that my eyes object to. Also, I think I caught the girl in front of me feel her hair again with my peripherals. Where does she think it’s going?

20 ‘til 3 pm: I consider using the lenses in my sunglasses to catch the reflection of the girl with the beautiful hair’s face. I’m almost sure that it is beautiful.

2:40 pm: I think about how I used “river” as an adjective.

2:41 pm: I think about how terrible I am at using correct grammar and Mass-Observation.

2:42 pm: I promise I’ll try harder at observing the masses.

2:43 pm: I think about George Orwell and the phrase “Opiate of the Masses.”

2:45 pm: I tell my poetry to stop peering over my shoulder in order to peek at my observations.

2:46: The girl with the scalpal waves of chocolaty clay remodels the tide on her head to look more becoming of Venus (or Juno, which ever one is prettier).

2:47: I think of Paris and the “apple of discord,” and then my thoughts turn to the three times I climbed the Eiffel Tower only to find that Paris is ugly on a cloudy day. I am determined to find the beauty in French and conquer Parisian clouds.

2:48: Oedipus’ wife/mother denounces the Gods and my plans to battle Paris.

2:49: The chorus listens to my Parisian aspirations and laughs to create an imagined V-I cadence.

2:52: The girl in front of me attempts to make the universe not so indifferent to her hair, that I’m sure is just exhausted at this point.

2:53 pm: I think about not writing about the girl in front me until she cuts off my thoughts with her compulsive need to illustrate hazel nut velvet.

3:00 pm: A student walks out of class before my professor gets to read Oedipus’ soliloquy.  I should have stopped him.

3:01 pm: The class understands that the girl in front of me is beautiful, as they acknowledge this in spoken silence.

3:02 pm: “Alas, alas” I start to wonder if I should have been more serious with this documentation.

I think that (15:04) I am the love child of Dionysius and Apollo. A student four rows down snorts in reply.

3:06 pm: Class is over. Everyone seems to wake up in unison. I think I may have failed as an observer. The Greek chorus acknowledges this failure with a melodramatic minor chord progression.