I want to dance with my baby.

he tries to forget the rest of the world and just get shizz done. he  
tries to ignore the fact he can't breathe very well at all so that he  
can finish the pile of shit ahead of him and hope to have decent  
grades on his report card, interm thing. he's slightly terrified what  
his bio mark is, and his history he knows is pretty shitty. he needs  
to raise them both to hope to get on the super g or honor roll or  
something. he already knows his grades aren't going to be nearly  
enough for his mother, the schools he needs to apply to, himself. he  
puts a degree of pressure on to be at a level the people around him  
are at, although the people around him are in advanced classes. he is  
in the one advanced class too, but he's never been one for top grades.  
he puts in effort and love for the subject, but never seems to get the  
result that should follow with that much work. he gets so lost in the  
amount of things he's asked to do that have no appeal to him at all.  
there are few times he even gets it all done. the teachers seem to  
think he's slacking. they look at him with his crazy, loud, individual  
bits and assume that in order to be that he has to be a complete  
dumbass and they judge him on it, don't give him time to set things up  
so he can understand the ways of the normal student. he's ready for a  
nap every second of every day. 

<3 <3