"The orientation deadline is set. Your books are scattered across campus. Good luck." This is what my professor yelled when trying to push his students' to their limits. I have never understand this cynical soulless man. He takes what he wants, our happiness, our sorrow, our grades, and shows no pity. The only reason I did not receive an 'A' on our final quiz was because I was thirty seconds late. He always says that it's never too early to be late. However, being late is my specialty.
I wear v-necks, skinny jeans and roll up my one jean leg. I insist to never conform to the norm and ride my bike wherever I go (with hazard lights of course). Whenever I see a drum circle, I participate without a second thought. If there is a local band playing, you will find me. Do I drink at Starbucks? No, I prefer the local shops and get the most expensive thing on their menu containing soy. What am I? Well, I'm a hipster. My professor hates hipsters.
I decided to finish this prose poem today. I'm not in the best of moods, but I hope this can cheer someone up. Since I'm very behind in my poetry, I'm going to try and update as much as I can today.
I hope you enjoy!