Yes, I am a heartless man.

Excuse me sky, could you please rain now, and let the promise of your dark grey misery rain down upon us, so that we might share with you your pain?

I have burdens. I once decided that burdens in most circumstances are good. The burden of life, the burden that prevents the just from sleeping that mythical sleep. A coat is a burden. It is heavy, yet it keeps me warm. So perhaps, to be without burdens is to be cold and empty, devoid of pourpose. And the sleep of the just is fitful and restless, and remains so until that icy cold blanket of blame, that burden of having no burden at all, is removed. It is much like stepping out of the fires of hell onto an icy tundra. It feels nice at first but you will be dying of hypothermia sooner or later.

My economics teacher teaches remedial economics, at least when I am in the room. I do not enjoy the class. It is a cold burden. I do not feel as if I am learning anything of substance. It is not a difficult subject. Espically when the qualifier remedial is placed upon the subject. I asked her today if we would be doing anything in her class. She asked if I ment today, I said I ment like this year. She was hurt. She was hurt to the degree that another teacher later told me she was hurt and that she had apparently talked to him, another teacher about how very hurt she was. Perhaps I should apologise. I would be more apt to apologise if she had not given me a lecture about how necessary it is for me to take her class. It is de facto necessary. That is to say, it is necessary for me to take that class because I am in a cog in the sequencing machine of the public school system. In reality, in terms of actual benifit, it is really not necessary for me to take that class. But I understand the injury which she may sustain from such a statement, and I imagine that I will apologise.

Excuse me sky, could you please rain now, and then the pool of tears will not just be my own.

That is to say, Yes, I understand my economics teacher. Although I do not know her well enough to speak in fact, I can speak in the general and apply it to her, knowing that my statement will probably be true. She wants to become a teacher. That is not to say she wishes to become a teacher, but that she wishes to teach. I imagine she wishes to be the sort of teacher you read about in stories or see in movies, not necessarily the kind you think of when one thinks of an old childs novella when the first person narrator complains about how silly, misguided or crazy his or her teachers are, but the kind of teacher who is not really a teacher, the kind of teacher who teaches, and in doing so teaches something important and betters the person who is taught. The grandfather to his grandson, the old cop to the young cop.

Then one becomes a teacher in fact, and being young I can imagine her as an idealist. How lucky to have not been stripped of idealism at such an old age for a young woman. Still paying student loans with no end in her sight. Unsure of what worth one actually has, a worry that one is wasting themselves, a feeling I can empathise with. Depressing but uplifting, and for that alone I should apologise and have respect.

I am constantly worried that I am in fact alienating those who I should make my allies, and worried that I am alienating those who are allies in fact. You'll live, he said, as I showed some frustration with the fact that I would not be able to present my presentation. My dedicated advanced placement united states history teacher constantly oscillates between seeming to like me and seeming to be frustrated with my attitude.

Excuse me sky, could you please rain, and let the tension fade away?

He wrote, "one of the finest papers I have ever read", on one of mine. Although he deducted 4 points since I am unable to spell, and 3 points because I did not know how he wanted a bibliography. I am always worried that I am angering him, because as much as I am capable of liking a teacher, I do like him. But sometimes I let the worst of me get the best of myself. I get frustrated when someone tells me that I am incorrect in saying "I let the worst of me get the best of me" because the second me should be in the reflexive case, or something to that effect. But since I have until recently been classified as an idiot, I have never been taught proper grammar, and now that I am no longer classified as an idiot, at my age I never shall.

Excuse me sky, could you please darken to keep my eyes from the blinding truth of failure?

He was frustrated with chemistry, or rather, he was frustrated with chemistry but ceased to be. And not a silly remedial chemistry either. AP Chemistry, a class I have neither the opportunity nor real desire to take. He showed me the dreaded "Chapter 11", and within approximately two minutes I understood what it was he was talking about, or so he thought, saying simply, "Dammit, thats not fair, you understand this!" Which simultaneously made my day and made me worry about the possibilities possible within a life wasted.

People often say to me, "Perhaps you should take the GED.", even my principal and my scheduler. My mother does not want me to take the GED because she feels it is the sign of a life wasted. I do not agree, but arguing with ones mother is like arguing with a brick wall. On the track I am on, I will graduate when I am twenty years old. This is not because I cannot take the classes, but rather because I am not allowed to take the classes which I need. I had to recieve special approval to even take the economics class which is one of those cold burdens. I suppose the machine is not sure about me. Is he an idiot or is he a genuis, it asks itself.

Sky, for me? Thank you.