Three weeks from the exams, our teacher had been replaced by a nervous bird-like man who chirpped and squawked mostly to himself and the blackboard. Like a pigeon with no where to go he tottered up and down trying to avoid any contact with a student. The class returned the favour and ignored him entirely. As I walked in the room well after the last bell, no-one even noticed. The class had segregated itself by blatant and unchangeable rules of social groupings.
Poor Leonnard, the teacher's pet, was drifting without purpose now that there was no-one to dote on him and no homework to bury his fears in. He wandered through the text book trying desperately to find some piece of knowledge to hold onto so he wouldn't get sucked into the vortex of uselessness that is puberty. The jocks stood over the cheerleaders who were poised to look non-chalant as they sat updating their facebook statuses. I suddenly had an image of instinct driven male primates dueling over a mate and laughed to myself; what could she possibly be writing? "Crotch in my face, what's new?" The gaming nerds sat in a clump at the back or the room. This group is easy to identify; they look greasy, red-eyed and like they haven't changed their cloths in a week, they are smelly, oily and uninterested in reality. The group heaved and jolted, reliving their great adventures as gnomes and trolls in grunts and snorts.
The only seat open was next to the high tech snobs group. These are the people who will one day design Schwartzeneggars "Terminator" robots that will take over the world. They are crisp and slick, always wearing black and never bothering with spoken word. Their eyes dart back and forth across a screen as their fingers nimbly take hold of the keys. Why speak when a machine can do it for you?
I sit in the open seat next to David, a Korean exchange student who openly laughs at our education system. His eyes flicker back and forth as his fingers dance on the touchscreen. I glanced at the brand new tech and flinched as the home page of his twitter account gleamed back at me. Can a person not escape this beast that consumes our devotion? I would just like to have a normal conversation for a change, is that even allowed these days?
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