This is what happens when I get bored in class. It was either this or fall asleep.
I have seen the face of evil. I know its name, and I know its number. It is 339. Ever since the dark days of yore when I, as a Freshman, ventured into the deep and abominable depths of Leon Johnson, this dark and undeniable truth has been etched into my brain.
The droning strains of the Professor's Germanic voice goes on. His dry humor elicits an equally dry chuckle at best and a vague stirring of the subconscious at worst. He has been given the laborious and in truth thankless task of educating a host of students in the finer points of cellular biology. My attention has already wandered to a distant place. He has lost this battle.
I can only hope that he does not lose the war.
Time passes in a strange manner here in this room. It moves forward in frenzied bursts, then at deathly slow pace, first forwards, then backwards. I was, am, and shall always be here. All of the noise has blended into a jagged blur and I am now caught in a eidolonic stasis.
Three students have Macs. All are using Facebook.
Two girls in front of me won't stop talking. Both are attractive. I cannot pay attention. My tenuous grasp on the Professor's monologue is gone.
Somewhere, some individual begins coughing. They do not stop. I imagine myself offering them a cough drop. Inexplicably the heinous hacking halts. I marvel at the verisimilitude of this moment.
Immediately three other individuals begin coughing.
Phosphates, amino acids, nucleotides, and electrons swirl in a vicissitudinal morass of which nothing makes sense. Madness is approaching.
I have seen it. It lurks in the far corner of my eye. Every time the Professor falls silent, the madness is clearly evident, a omnipresent suffocating presence. The Professor must feel it as well for he hurriedly speaks once more, desperate to fill the awful void the silence has spawned. But it is no good. Madness does not leave. It merely waits for the perfect moment to overthrow our tenuous and fragile grip upon reality and bring forth an warped deluge of chimerical horrors.
I try to put it from my mind. Oh woe, woe to me and those who cannot withstand the twisted machinations of this terrible room and its devilish dispensation of terrible knowledge. I cannot sit here any longer, so I leave.
