My fingers ache from not moving and the nerve-wrecking aura of this setting, puts me in a state of melancholy. Having my right hand in a fist, holding my head up, my elbow pressed on my desk, I turn my body to face the cloudy sky, through the adjacent window. I slightly slouched in my seat, my eyes half-lidded and burning, I yawned, on the brink of sleeping; on the verge of reality. In my position, I felt like there was nothing I could've taken advantage of in this lecturing background. It's stormy, and all I can do is watch the rain run, skip and hop down from this glassed barrier. Not only did I sense this, but the heat planted over my head. Every time, it never fails to engulf me. For the lights were nothing new, yet, the heat radiated through my body and I produced sweat without doing anything at all. Directly right under the lights of the room, I ever so slowly melt. Everyone in the room opens their mouths for a class discussion and it feels as if the room rose 100 degrees more. In fact, between these lights and this boredom, I don’t know which is more perpetual, more agonizing, and more time consuming. Or, which I'd die from first.