PEOPLES.
I.
AM.
UPSET.
...but at the same time...also, somewhat happy.
So, the other day...in my English class, the teacher was handing out Macbeth books...because we were starting Macbeth.
Now, you see how I've stated the obvious? Let me do it some more. I have a point to this, okay? Be patient...
- I like reading
- I like books
- I like new books
- I like smelling books
- I am shy
- I am super shy
Now that I've pointed out more obvious stuff...let's begin.
Or...continue.
Right. So. Many English classes ago, my English teacher was telling us about how he has brand new copies of Macbeth for his enriched class to use. He opened his secret cabinet in the wall and showed us. Sitting on the shelf, was a stack of brand new, never-opened-before copies of Macbeth. It was such a lovely sight.
To the left and right of that, were the old copies of Macbeth. The ones that the school has been using for years, the ones that have been circulating the hands of students for the past few decades. The ones that have been torn, ripped, dropped, written and drawn in, and just utterly destroyed.
So, after months and months of teasing the class (mostly me), we finally started Macbeth the other day! Yay! Kinda....
So...here's the heart-wrenchingly horrifying part.
As the teacher went to his secret cabinet and took out the small stack of new Macbeth books, I stared with longing. With...greed. With...lust.
I...want...those...books.
But of course, my shyness overtook my need to grab a copy of the book, so I stayed put.
After countless seconds of the teacher explaining about...stuff, there was a pause. Then he said...
So, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do this. Do I just leave the room so that I won't have to witness the bloodbath and carnage that's sure to occur? The carcases that are sure to be found? Or do I let the people who took initiative and entered poems into the poetry anthology (I ENTERED A POEM INTO THE ANTHOLOGY, THIS HAPPY MAKE ME!) go first? Hmm. Nah, I'll just step to the side of the room. *pause* Well? What are you guys waiting for? An invitation?
And just like that, students flocked like marshmallow to a watermelon*! Actually, not that many people flocked to the books. Maybe 4 or 5? I wasn't too worried....until I saw the guy sitting in front of me go up and grab 10 books.
*don't question it
Like, why?!
So there I was, silently crying tears of utter sadness.
There was a moment when this idiotically selfish guy came in my direction...and I had hoped....
But, NO. People flocked to HIM, and he gave out the books, and I'm sure he felt like the most popular guy in the world. The most wanted guy, too.
Then the other people who came up, ALSO grabbed a few copies for their friends. Is it wrong of me to have hoped that one of them would have bothered to get ME a copy? Is it too much to ask? I mean, I thought they were my friends...but now I know I was just giving myself false hope.
I probably was. See? THIS is why I tell myself I have no friends.
*sigh*
Why my teacher didn't buy a class set of books, I'll never understand, but, gah! Why would he do this to us?! To me?! I love books! And I...I.........
*sigh*
Well...the books were gone. So, I dejectedly walked up to the front of the class...and DEJECTEDLY picked up the first torn looking copy of Macbeth from the stack of decidedly OLD copies from the last century, then walked back to my desk, head hung in shame.
Ah wells.
I said to myself...it's okay. It's not that bad. So what if you have an old book from the last century...while more than half the class has brand new copies?! In fact, you should be glad that all the others got new copies that have never been opened before. With this fabulously old copy, you can drop it, draw in it, spill water on it, and no one would be the wiser! Who cares if the new books are clean, and smell wonderful? Who cares if I can't delicately flip the pages, and stroke the magnificently flawless pages? Who cares if I won't be able to see the gloriously white and sparkling paper that make the black words pop off the pages! The pages are too blindingly bright anyway! With new books, I'd have to be careful...I can't drop them, spill water on them, or write in them (not that I would) I'd have to open the pages with such loving, and adoring care..I'd whisper compliments and sing praises to it every night...but what am I saying? Pah!
So...after that miserable talk with myself...I couldn't help but bring the tattered book up to my nose...and...sniff.
Now, now...don't look at me like that.
And you know what I smelled? I smelled something startling familiar. And...my guess is, only one of you lucky readers know what I'm referring to...maybe two. And then I closed my eyes and imagined................*happy sigh*
Anyhoo!
Okay, so maybe getting a torn copy wasn't that bad...don't get me wrong...it still sucked...just not as much. AND THEN. And then I proceeded to flip through the pages of the book...and what do I see when I get to the last page? HAHAHAHAHA!
I silently laughed to myself...it was just the image I needed to soften the blow. Kinda...sexual, but, heh! Worth it.
Right. Anyways...so, a few days later, the guy sitting in front of me took out his NEW Macbeth book, and what to I behold but a crumpled, wrinkled....BOOK! How could he?!
If he can't treat a book right, might as well get an old copy that has already been ripped beyond recognition. I could have had that book! I could have...could have....
*sigh*
What's the point?
It's not like I can do anything about it anymore...the books have all been given out...and asking to exchange with someone else is out of the question.
*sigh*
Well, at least I can still tell myself...that I may not have a lovely new copy of a book...a book I so desperately wanted...a book I've been salivating over...for months...a book that I've been...oh, whoops.
Ahem. At least I can tell myself that I have a copy of history! All the students who have gone through this book have left their mark in some way, shape, or form. And while I flip through the decidedly flawed pages of the book, not only can I see amusingly snide comments and remarks from the students that went before me, but I also see the students themselves...each drop of liquid, be it coffee, water, or juice. Every smudge, dirt, food, or...other questionable smudges. It is there. In all its glory.
I have the book that contains history!
Ha! Beat that! You may have a flawless book with no marks...but I have THIS. What's that? You want to exchange? You want to see the hilarious drawing on the back of my book?
HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAA! Not a chance! You had your choice. You picked yours. And this is mine. ALL MINE!
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Or...continue.
Right. So. Many English classes ago, my English teacher was telling us about how he has brand new copies of Macbeth for his enriched class to use. He opened his secret cabinet in the wall and showed us. Sitting on the shelf, was a stack of brand new, never-opened-before copies of Macbeth. It was such a lovely sight.
To the left and right of that, were the old copies of Macbeth. The ones that the school has been using for years, the ones that have been circulating the hands of students for the past few decades. The ones that have been torn, ripped, dropped, written and drawn in, and just utterly destroyed.
So, after months and months of teasing the class (mostly me), we finally started Macbeth the other day! Yay! Kinda....
So...here's the heart-wrenchingly horrifying part.
As the teacher went to his secret cabinet and took out the small stack of new Macbeth books, I stared with longing. With...greed. With...lust.
I...want...those...books.
But of course, my shyness overtook my need to grab a copy of the book, so I stayed put.
After countless seconds of the teacher explaining about...stuff, there was a pause. Then he said...
So, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do this. Do I just leave the room so that I won't have to witness the bloodbath and carnage that's sure to occur? The carcases that are sure to be found? Or do I let the people who took initiative and entered poems into the poetry anthology (I ENTERED A POEM INTO THE ANTHOLOGY, THIS HAPPY MAKE ME!) go first? Hmm. Nah, I'll just step to the side of the room. *pause* Well? What are you guys waiting for? An invitation?
And just like that, students flocked like marshmallow to a watermelon*! Actually, not that many people flocked to the books. Maybe 4 or 5? I wasn't too worried....until I saw the guy sitting in front of me go up and grab 10 books.
*don't question it
Like, why?!
So there I was, silently crying tears of utter sadness.
There was a moment when this idiotically selfish guy came in my direction...and I had hoped....
But, NO. People flocked to HIM, and he gave out the books, and I'm sure he felt like the most popular guy in the world. The most wanted guy, too.
Then the other people who came up, ALSO grabbed a few copies for their friends. Is it wrong of me to have hoped that one of them would have bothered to get ME a copy? Is it too much to ask? I mean, I thought they were my friends...but now I know I was just giving myself false hope.
I probably was. See? THIS is why I tell myself I have no friends.
*sigh*
Why my teacher didn't buy a class set of books, I'll never understand, but, gah! Why would he do this to us?! To me?! I love books! And I...I.........
*sigh*
Well...the books were gone. So, I dejectedly walked up to the front of the class...and DEJECTEDLY picked up the first torn looking copy of Macbeth from the stack of decidedly OLD copies from the last century, then walked back to my desk, head hung in shame.
Ah wells.
I said to myself...it's okay. It's not that bad. So what if you have an old book from the last century...while more than half the class has brand new copies?! In fact, you should be glad that all the others got new copies that have never been opened before. With this fabulously old copy, you can drop it, draw in it, spill water on it, and no one would be the wiser! Who cares if the new books are clean, and smell wonderful? Who cares if I can't delicately flip the pages, and stroke the magnificently flawless pages? Who cares if I won't be able to see the gloriously white and sparkling paper that make the black words pop off the pages! The pages are too blindingly bright anyway! With new books, I'd have to be careful...I can't drop them, spill water on them, or write in them (not that I would) I'd have to open the pages with such loving, and adoring care..I'd whisper compliments and sing praises to it every night...but what am I saying? Pah!
So...after that miserable talk with myself...I couldn't help but bring the tattered book up to my nose...and...sniff.
Now, now...don't look at me like that.
And you know what I smelled? I smelled something startling familiar. And...my guess is, only one of you lucky readers know what I'm referring to...maybe two. And then I closed my eyes and imagined................*happy sigh*
Anyhoo!
Okay, so maybe getting a torn copy wasn't that bad...don't get me wrong...it still sucked...just not as much. AND THEN. And then I proceeded to flip through the pages of the book...and what do I see when I get to the last page? HAHAHAHAHA!
I silently laughed to myself...it was just the image I needed to soften the blow. Kinda...sexual, but, heh! Worth it.
Right. Anyways...so, a few days later, the guy sitting in front of me took out his NEW Macbeth book, and what to I behold but a crumpled, wrinkled....BOOK! How could he?!
If he can't treat a book right, might as well get an old copy that has already been ripped beyond recognition. I could have had that book! I could have...could have....
*sigh*
What's the point?
It's not like I can do anything about it anymore...the books have all been given out...and asking to exchange with someone else is out of the question.
*sigh*
Well, at least I can still tell myself...that I may not have a lovely new copy of a book...a book I so desperately wanted...a book I've been salivating over...for months...a book that I've been...oh, whoops.
Ahem. At least I can tell myself that I have a copy of history! All the students who have gone through this book have left their mark in some way, shape, or form. And while I flip through the decidedly flawed pages of the book, not only can I see amusingly snide comments and remarks from the students that went before me, but I also see the students themselves...each drop of liquid, be it coffee, water, or juice. Every smudge, dirt, food, or...other questionable smudges. It is there. In all its glory.
I have the book that contains history!
Ha! Beat that! You may have a flawless book with no marks...but I have THIS. What's that? You want to exchange? You want to see the hilarious drawing on the back of my book?
HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAA! Not a chance! You had your choice. You picked yours. And this is mine. ALL MINE!
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Have you ever wanted to do something?
But was too shy to do so?
Did you end up writing an entire blog post to try and convince yourself that it wasn't worth it anyway?
fammm u want my new Macbeth book? LOLOLS I'll give it to u if u still wanna ��
ReplyDeleteNo, no...it's fine...mostly. I've accepted the fact the MY book CAN be and WILL be better than some new book that smells like...the most..beautiful things...uh...I mean. I'm good, thanks. My book smells like...someone I...love dearly....shh!
Delete*it's weird, I know...