Oh magpie, may I mingle here?
Life on the ground is heavy;
My bones are filled with hardened fear
Yet I feel breakable,
Malleable to the pressure or others' contrary desire:
What I wouldn't do to be with you,
A free-flying bird on the wire.
It must have been Weed Biology. I remember spending too much time watching (and counting) magpies in that lecture.
I &heart; terrible poetry written in zone-out lectures.
...well, at least I know I was feeling these things a few months ago, too. :P It's 9.50. I'm almost finished unpacking. Then I've still got to sit down and stay up too late reading about the social construction of science so I don't sound like an idiot with my professor tomorrow. I'll just be tired instead.