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Useless Observations
Jan. 31st, 2022 01:02 pmOn Thursday I was let out of one my classes early. Left with three hours between my classes and very little to do besides write, I went up to the F-Wing and sat in an empty classroom by myself.
Stockton's facilities look new and chic, but when given the chance to examine them closely, it seems that isn't really the case. In the room I was in, a few of the college-style desks had their matte finished peeled off to reveal a layer of wood underneath, in which various inscriptions from students over the years were compiled. I looked over these desks carefully, and I guess there is a sort of intimacy to thinking deeply about thoughtless scribbles. In it you can find love confessions, deep-seated hatreds, stick figures in various states, and antiquated jokes dating all the way back to the ancient mid-2000's. I don't know what about defacing a desk feels so charmingly human, but it does.
After staring at desks for a long while, I took a seat near the high-rise windows and watched the people below. The sunlight comes through only on that last line of desks, and although I normally sit in a different row in that room I didn't want to budge. The blinds are always left up, and the metal chains hang down and sway slightly from the air of the very slightly rusted steel radiators. I flicked the bottom of a chain in front of me and watched a ripple of energy climb up and then return to the bottom with a writhing movement. If you play with the intensity just right, you can keep the oscillation going for a good while, a useless observation but an observation nonetheless. For the remainder of my time, I sat in the light and sang quietly to myself until the tranquility was broken by the boisterous arrival of my classmates. That period of about an hour seemed to go by in an instant.
Stockton's facilities look new and chic, but when given the chance to examine them closely, it seems that isn't really the case. In the room I was in, a few of the college-style desks had their matte finished peeled off to reveal a layer of wood underneath, in which various inscriptions from students over the years were compiled. I looked over these desks carefully, and I guess there is a sort of intimacy to thinking deeply about thoughtless scribbles. In it you can find love confessions, deep-seated hatreds, stick figures in various states, and antiquated jokes dating all the way back to the ancient mid-2000's. I don't know what about defacing a desk feels so charmingly human, but it does.
After staring at desks for a long while, I took a seat near the high-rise windows and watched the people below. The sunlight comes through only on that last line of desks, and although I normally sit in a different row in that room I didn't want to budge. The blinds are always left up, and the metal chains hang down and sway slightly from the air of the very slightly rusted steel radiators. I flicked the bottom of a chain in front of me and watched a ripple of energy climb up and then return to the bottom with a writhing movement. If you play with the intensity just right, you can keep the oscillation going for a good while, a useless observation but an observation nonetheless. For the remainder of my time, I sat in the light and sang quietly to myself until the tranquility was broken by the boisterous arrival of my classmates. That period of about an hour seemed to go by in an instant.
