Sleep deprived, you walk on broadway, thinking to yourself, "Was it worth it all?". He says to you, "Roxanne, you don't have to sell your soul tonight." It isn't that easy after all, is it? Saying isn't believing, is it? You tread on beaten paths; losing your footprints among the millions, thinking, "It really doesn't make a difference, does it?". "To whom?", he asks, checking his Guide to English Grammar. This is stupid, isn't it? I'm sick of asking questions that you wouldn't ever answer. Red light, green light, yellow. I wish it just stops at yellow. People would just stop and look around. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the thought for the day.
"I'll force you to sit here and mark you absent!". And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the threat for the day.
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2 comments:
You know, I bet a lot of people came and read your blog, but didn't comment 'cos they couldn't understand the post at all...
Or am I the only dumb one out there? :p
Oh, you weren't supposed to understand this one. Hell, even I don't understand it. Probably just the song Roxanne playing in my mind, sitting bored nearly to death in class. And of course, some random intricacies that I happen to own might just have crept in. :)
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