Excerpt: Fleeting Creations of the Spotted Mind

It wouldn’t stop jiggling. Did he have to pee or something? Or was this just his way of dealing with stress? It wasn’t helping me at all, I can tell you that. I wanted to scream at him “STOP MOVING YOUR FUCKING LEG. CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT IT IS DISTRACTING?” but then I would have gotten kicked out and the whole point of a mid term was to stay in the class. Being easily distracted is not the greatest trait to have when in college, where nobody has bothered to tell the annoying people their flaws. Damn these shy, obnoxious geeks. Sometimes I wish that my insane knowledge of language didn’t exist, so I could go to a more sophisticated campus with less geeks. Why can they not go to the bathroom before class instead of holding it until your bladder feels like it’s going to rip out of your body and flop helplessly onto the floor and then explode into a million pieces of guts and urine. But right before the shower of intestines splats on your face, it magically morphs into rainbows and sparkles and unicorns and---
And this is what happens when I get distracted.
Oh good, only two more questions.
Capiens is a participle, sooooo…
Aha! It is B then.
And… oh wow, they put silva on here. It’s obviously D. any small child would know that.
Finally, I can get out of this classroom and away from the knee-bouncing nerd and into the open campus just in time for lunch. Oh god, I’m so fucking hungry. I should’ve eaten breakfast this morning. It’s the most important meal of the day, for good reason.
Jumping out of my seat, I scurried to Professor Rosenberg’s desk, handed him that god-awful test, and got the hell outta there. People must’ve thought I was the one who needed to piss.
The cool November wind caressed my face as I waltzed out the door, relieved to be free at last. Somehow this campus never ceased to astound me. The way it feels, every time I touch a building or a blade of grass, I get lost in the wonder of it all. Of how this came to be my life. How it all could have been different if it hadn’t been for one moment that changed my life. Could I sound any more dramatic? But it’s true. Look back on your life and if you hadn’t done something, where would you be now? Was it a person who changed you, or was it your own mind that modified your actions?
Sufficed to say that all of you have a life, and you’re not all fetuses. Honestly, that would creep me out. No lie. My imagination can sometimes be a curse rather than a gift. But who hasn’t had nightmares about little baby fetuses chasing them around town? Everyone who’s anyone has creepy nightmares as I do. It proves you have brains. And at the moment, mine are getting horribly off topic.