The life as a Juror...

My duty as a MA citizen.
Grimace.

Trial by a jury is considered to be sacred, it is incorporated into our society so we all can serve (happily of course). Trial without prejudice from an impartial group of people apparently equals justice for all.

The One day/one trial system consists of the notion that every three years citizens are asked to serve for only one day. Unless the case is more complex and therefore it goes on longer. Massachusetts is the first state to adopt this system.

How long do I have to be here? Just one day...unless you are the unlucky son of a bitch who gets OJ's brother on trial.

New word I learned today...Impanelment- the procedure of picking jury. Why does this word sound and look so much like imprisonment? Creepy no?

The silence of this 15ft x 30ft pastel pink room is astounding. How is it 35 strangers can sit in a room next to each other and not even utter a word to each other. Is it the social norm to be distant and uniformly passive? Just as it is customary to stare ahead at the shiny elevator door and not at the person standing next to you. What a societal oddity... Sorry I meant norm.

Utterly mind numbing activities....
The 20-something girl next to me can't stop tapping her foot. She has an innocent smile but her jitters imply she is mentally confused about why she has to be here. Poor creature of God...she has done 20 laps thus far in this small room. I think I smell smoke from the friction building up between her feet and the carpet.

The elderly man on my left who can't even open his eyes, either due to sleep or other hereditary genetic reasons, is mumbling to himself. Should I be concerned? I can only move away in mere inches when I think he's blinking. But I can't tell! Ahhh.

I think the woman's hair in front of me is coming undone. Think she would mind if I took out my handy dandy stapler from my purse and stapled that persistent strand to her forehead? I can stop the bleeding if she'd worried about that. Cowards.

I guess I would be the perfect addition to this tea party of normalcy. I look like the leader of the Trenchcoat Mafia dressed all in black, smiling to myself as I write frantically on my iPhone. I'm glad I lugged my laptop without the power cord, and got Ctrl + Atl + fucked over.

What a day so far...My morning has been plagued with torrential downpours, and a cab driver who took me for a $27.00 spin around MA.

Let's see if this servitude goes any deeper into the realms of hell.

Ciao...

Why did I ever let you hold me?

For those of you that don't know, I teach 9th/10th grade Science.

Well, one day one of my students came up to me and asked me to proofread a poem he had been working on. I couldn't resist.

After I finished reading his work... I was in awe. He wrote quite well for his age. Sparked by the innovative curiosity his work had ignited in myself I sat and penned my very first poem.

"Why Did I Ever Let You Hold Me?"

At the time it didn't mean a thing...
When did my tears start drowning me.
I didn't even realize I had strayed from love...
This time it was different though.

I had never allowed myself to get hurt.
I never leave myself open to love.
When did I end up the victim?
How did I get into this condition..

Dear God,
How did I end up here with you.
When did I let it get so personal.
I'm too proud to let anyone save me.

But I can't get rid of this condition.
I don't have experience being on the other side.
My mind is gone... numb in grief.
How did I get here with you?

~*[Khush]*~