Left You Hanging

As I helped him with the simple math problems, I felt my status lowering. I knew she would see it, and wouldn't ignore the situation, and I'm not so naive as to think that popularity is proportional to intelligence. Soon enough she would talk to me, and it wouldn't be to invite me to a party, or out for coffee. It would be for help. Not that I mind helping; I love to help people, especially if they smell good. I didn't notice if she smelled good though, probably a bad sign.

But yes, my status was lowering. In their eyes I was becoming smarter and smarter. (If I dive further into this metaphor, God must be the ultimately unpopular kid, which is probably why so few young people go to church.) Soon their words would be laced with poison as they complain about their inability to understand things. They will resent me. They will feel like I am smug and snobbish, even if that's not the case.

Still I want to see them do well, and I want to do well, so I do the best that I can do.

I raised 2 to the -2 power. 0.25. The teacher says "Perfect!" in her all too excited voice. Too many simple feats are deemed Perfect by her, and it makes it seem like everything here is trivial. If she is so excited about this simple math, how much more excited could she get when it comes to the really interesting core of the course? This should be blasé, as it is for me.

I should be in a different group. Or I should be in this one. She wants me in this one, she sorted us by GPA. Some crazy psychoanalytical experiment she is performing on us while we are forced to perform menial tasks which aren't so menial to so many others.

I have been trying to get to a point, to some logical conclusion with a moral and a hint of understanding, but I can't find it.