I am trash.

(This blog post is following the theme of scientific and psychological connotations in every day life. I'll get back to pokemon soon.)

I seem to have but the most odd luck when being seated in my classes. I am either in the front and formost location, or in the dark seedy underbelly of the classroom. Both locations have pros and cons, but I usually tend to prefer the dark seedy underbelly of the classroom as I can observe others while often not being observed myself. There is a great deal of comfort to be found in witnessing the humanity of others, and no greater class to do so than in advanced pre-calculus. Witnessing those who make their emotions very readable finally understand a difficult concept, or seeing as friends gossip under their breath during class, is a task that only someone of grand social isolation can understand. This isolation can be brought upon by simple mentality, or in my case, the worst, seediest, darkest, and underbelliest of all the seats in the room.

I have found myself assigned to the very corner seat, furthest from the chalkboard and closest to the door, and by extension, uncomfortably close to the trash can. As each and every day passes I slowly find myself beginning to grow an emotional attachment to my next door neighbor, the trash can, as any students near me are either several desks away or never see my face as I only can see their backs. With this void in social interaction I have no choice but to fill it with an over-personified trash can. My darling rubbish-receptacle seems to grow closer and closer to me as the days progress. I can only wonder if it is my desk growing closer to him, or him venturing closer to me. Our emotional bondage has grown so much the proximity seems to be a mutual endeavor. I wonder if one day, perhaps my friend will simply be sitting in my desk, or he and I will become one forever in a fusion of both space and identity. It is about time he achieved sentient existence, even if co-dependent. 

I imagine what life as a trash can would be like, and I can only look forward to the day in which me and my darling beloved fuse together in the holy ritual of too-close-for-comfort. I will become one with all of trash-kind and forever be able to realize that I am over-evaluating this situation in an extremely existential manner. But as most things are, there really wasn't a way to avoid it.