I used to have a specific method to my madness. My subjects yet to be worked on heaped up on my left. Finished books piled up on my right. I was happy that way. Kind of lost in my own little world amidst heaps of books, projects and school subjects.
Then I graduated and went to college, and my method plummeted into oblivion. At least I felt as if it plummeted. I had nothing to hold onto anymore–my books were now jammed into a backpack, and instead of pink carpet, I sat on one of those hard wooden things someone had the nerve to invent. I think they are called chairs with desks. Distasteful hideous things. Sitting Indian style on them is painful to say the least, and they are almost like little jail cells. There is no way to escape them without the teacher turning his dark gray eyes upon me and wondering when will I learn to sit still.
I don’t think I ever shall. I prefer my madness thank you very much. Even now during spring break, I still sit cross-legged, books heaped up around me, the ones to do precariously balanced on the table ledge off to the right and the finished ones flopped on the floor. Perhaps the order is slightly off, but to me it still makes sense. I have my water bottle. I have my pens. I have my lap top, and my shoes are forgotten on the floor. It is my madness, and I like it.