When I heard I had the opportunity, Nay, the privilege to observe another class I was forced into empathogenic ecstasy. Then a shock of terror coursed my spine as I realized how open ended the assignment was. Who was to guide me on my quest, be there when I fell, wipe away all my tears? I came unto a realization of self worth, a kind of super imposed intrinsic value of life and all things. I was to guide myself down this ever lonelier path of creative originality. I began to level with my situation and counteract its attempts cast me into insanity. I formulated a plan, a plan to plan on planning plans. Then I planned to observe a class to fulfill this assignment. I chose art appreciation.

Upon arriving to the scene around 10:59:24 in the morn on November the 6th during the year known to the hominids of earth as 2009, I discovered I was in the wrong parking spot and quickly drove to the new building. I side flipped over some ninjas and save the princess before opening the front door for an elderly women with piercing eyes. The floor shone brilliant shades of emerald and aquamarine, or was that just the acid - vinegar mix a crooked embezzling custodian used. I stepped over this thought and onto a mini rug who clung so flatly to my imaginative scenario regarding professional cleaning. I rounded the corner and was dominated by the almighty light emanating from Christ ophers ipod, so I donned my neon-yellow-bug-eyed-lens to hide from its glory. I scampered into the art room like Smegal after losing his ring. The class hadn’t started yet. Students were filing in at an alarming rate. From my fear I let escaped a strangled cry “Theres too many of them,” this evoked concerned stares from many of my classmates. Then I bit into a living fish, cracking its spine and ending its pitiful existence to sustain my somehow superior body. Mrs Aultman walked in looking slightly disheveled, her papers frequently askew. She did her thing of organizing and roll call while I watched more colors explode into impossible patterns reviewing my art from days passed. Most students bore a demeanor of cattle inline for slaughter. Admittedly they had been threatened with a quiz last class and had prepared notes in advance. I laughed inhumanly at the thought of study for such a trivial questionnaire.

Soon enough the questions were administered to us. My previous confidence fleeted upon reading the first line. I would describe this test through but, it would be wrong for me to do so. Well It turns out I passed the exam with flying colors, a 100 percent. The class ended and I left. Nothing more happened, I was instantly transformed into a person writing this assignment and trying to submit it a few minutes before deadline. Perhaps one could betray an honest hours worth of effort with a line like that. Who knows?