exam week is upon me.
I get out my number 2 pencil, and lodge it into my brain.
i think, i drag every little essence of the fragments of lessons i've learned for the past nine weeks out of my head and ship it to my right hand which transfers it to paper. I color in small bubbles in lead. I leave pieces of sawed off eraser sprawled across my desk. I get out of there as fast as I possibly can, just to do the same thing again the next day. There is no break in the trauma-rama after this week. Life doesn't give you breaks, especially when you need it the most.
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