Nine o'clock in the evening.
Those moments when you realize how truly futile it is to try and make an effort to do the best of your ability...when you lose your sense of direction, and the motivation that assists you on your journey there. 
I'm sitting here, alone, in a classroom at nine o'clock in the evening. Or maybe I'm not alone - maybe there are ghosts.
Or spirits.
Things that I cannot touch, see, smell, taste, hear...
However, I can hear the clock ticking...rather, I feel it, as it's synchronized with my heartbeat...tick, thump, tick. 
For some reason, I want to cry. I want to shout, at the top of my lungs, in my bare f