Rabu, 03 Juni 2015

One of Those Classes


It was physics class, the Physics C. This week the lesson started to go deeper into the topic of light ― reflection, refraction and stuffs. My teacher is somewhat different, he teaches the lesson entirely by using hand outs. Good, since I don't have to spend a few extra thousands yen for another book. But bad, because no exercises aren't given.

Unlike previous weeks, this week's hand out was full of sentences filled with hand written kanjis. When the sentences started to show up, all I could think of was, "Okay, let's just leave this for later," "Let's do something else."

So I ended up wasting the rest of the lesson watching three people, and writing about them, and exaggerating what they did.

1
She wished that she had no need to hold a pencil and an empty piece of paper. All she wanted was to have enough reasons to keep her head up and eyes pointed toward the slide in front of the board. But it was not reciprocal. Her demand for reasons was paid with incoherent sentences from a man with graying hair, walking here and there by the slide.

Thus, she chose to stop. With head bending down, ears closed, she took the pencil and the paper, then began to write.

2
He was focused. He was, in all manner, different from the girl, except for one thing ― the pencil and paper, although that similarity was strictly limited to the fact that they both hold the same kind of thing, while the purpose was completely different. The girl held hers as a sign of lost. He held his because he had not gone down, he was in sync with the walking man.

3
He removed himself. He was there only because the schedule told him to do so. He sat there, behind the girl, holding a pencil and a bunch of papers, jotting down some other assignments.

He had papers and pencil, just like the other two, but one aspect made him unique. Unlike the other two, he had nothing to do with the man by the slide. He cared not a bit about the slide, or whether the man was giving him what he needed or not. None of these things mattered to him, he just carried on doing what he had started from before ― doing some other assignments.


*I should be studying calculus, not doing this.