I sit here
In a room full of souls
Each lost in their own
Personal
Thoughts.

Feigned enthusiasm
Redundant questions
Apathetic listening

It seems as though
Each one of these souls
Are engulfed
In a miasma
Of negative energy

And the sum total
Of the glum
and dark black
only serves
To provide
Fodder for my words.

And I am grateful.

Anything
Anything at all
That will remove me
From the funk that resides
Within the understanding of my own self
Is something to be desired.

I look up
From my keyboard
And feign interest
In the equations being written on the wall.

I nod.
I laugh
And snicker in unison
With the other pretenders in class.

Then go back to my keyboard.
And type these minutes away.