our battleground..the classroom..should be..
our tools..a tower of books and photocopies..and some neat black signpen..the signpen matters more..
our weapons are no less our cranky brains..
it’s a strife out there..a fight..a battle..
more than the academic test of pen and paper..it’s a test of sheer wits..a test of patience and endurance..a test of character..
bouts of insanity..should be normal..the irony..when you’ve loads and loads of pages to chase, you’d nonchalantly mistake blue from green..when you’ve grueling sessions to partake in, you’d easily find refuge in the silliest and corniest jokes on earth..
out there is a neat bunch of animals..some coin themselves as the bold, the brave and the beautiful..others cow behind the lofty principles of law and justice..however they sport themselves, they’re really just one neat pack of loudmouths and airheads..there’s really a very thin line between a loud airhead and a silent airhead so to say..
at any point, i bet each one resorts well to being a cutthroat himself or herself..to adopt to the scheming and playful environment maybe..or just to kick some trouble in..then cutting each other’s throats is a way to get by..
didn’t i say.. it’s the only place advocating justice where there’s a lot of injustice..
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