No Exit


“You can use any of the following for your term papers — absurdism, romantic idealism, dadaism, existentialism….”

He then scans the classroom and finally our eyes meet. I poise my pen above the notebook I conveniently left lying open on top of my desk as a prop for when I pretend I am taking notes, when in fact I am as usual engrossed in another novel. He starts to wag a finger at me.

“Existentialism! You!” He continues, feigning anger. “Not Existentialism! You did enough of that already!”






Okay, I don’t know what to do with my life anymore. :D

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