Monotonic
You will have a good feeling about it in the morning of a new semester, but when you take the stairs to Room 202 in Academic Block 2 and see the tiles and paint that reminds you of hospitals and the like, you can't help but get melancholic about stifled unfinished dreams. Start. You enter your class, not a bustling classroom like they show in the movies but a classroom with high ceiling fans and low energy quotient. The teacher shall not break the monotone, not because the syllabus is much, or the classes are less, but simply because monotone is unanimously accepted, both by the geeks and those who reek of alcohol and smoke. You shall go choose the last bench, not because you don't want to study or you're allergic to chalk dust on the first benches, but because you can scribble away on the last page of your notebook on the last bench. No one comes peeking, no one gives a damn, and you can observe the large un-fiddling sleepy crowd. You shall get bored when the prett