[-------------------------------------------------------------------------] -oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo- [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] ____ ____ ____ _I_R_ | || |\ \ M E | || |/____/ Oh No! People! P A | || |\ \ ir file number 071 U L |____||____| |____| released 11.21.00 L I | || |\| | by Bor S T |____||____| |____| we're just fucking with your mind. E Y even_god_reads_it [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] -oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo-oOo- [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] Time for english class. Time to make the death march to room 9103, Time to take the march to the worst place that you have to go all day. Time to take the march to english class. You enter the room and sit down, then you look on the board. Of course, just like every other day there is an assignment. Pointless busy work to just keep us working while the teacher sits there and does some meaningless thing while she looks at the clock; waiting for 1:50 to roll around. The assignment on the board is different. It is a writing assignment. No big deal, That's why you're here, right? English is for writing, but whats this? You read it: "Step 6: Present in front of the class." Your heart stops, your skin turns cold and wet. You stare at it as you think to yourself "oh no!" over and over again. You have to speak, and just like always, you have to choke. Tuesday rolls around. You goto your first 5 classes, everything works out fine, and you have forgotten. And then, the time comes. It is 12:45, you must goto English, then it appears to you, You have to present, you have to go up all by yourself, you have to speak. She calls up different people. He speaks, then she speaks, and then the he/she speaks. And finally the time has come. It is time for you. You must get up and speak. You know you can't, but you must. You have to get up and face the people. They have no problems with you, infact you're friends with most of them, yet you still have this feeling, an uncomfortable feeling, a feeling worse than death, but you must go on with it. You get up to the podeum, you sit down on the stool. You cannot standup, your legs are shaking, and everyone would notice. You take the seat, you're not shaking, but you must speak. You start to speak. "Well..um...I did my paper on uh.." You're doing horribly. Your face turns red as you try to stumble through your own writing. What kind of a moron can't read their own paper that they wrote? What kind of an idiot are you? You still have two pages left, and the best you can come up with is "Well...um...?" This can't be good. You ramble on and on through your paper. Your hands are sweating, infact everything is sweating. It doesn't matter what you do. You could pretend these people aren't there, they still are though. Watching you, waiting for you to screw up. Finally, you're on the home stretch, you ramble on and on through the second page. Three more...two more...Finally! closing paragraph, you stumble through the task of finishing, and getting up, looking at the people and sitting back down. You finish, but there is silence, and awkward silence. And once again you remember; "Oh no! People!" [-------------------------------------------------------------------------] Copyright (c) 2000 IMPULSE REALITY PRESS - http://phonelosers.net/ir [-------------------------------------------------------------------------]