There is a cold, stark, black and white television, that continuously plays behind the lens of their eyes. Containing a grey static fog, calculating, and recalculating words and equations that years ago, were non-existent. Even to glance at these pupils, causes one to become shackled in their gaze. Slowly pulled in like a fish on a hook, and even if one was able to muster enough strength, to tear themselves from that look, they would only be met with a stone cold expression. An expression, that could harden your soul, as if to Clutch your abdomen with it's golden fist.
Saturated in probaganda, they have become slow dormant figures that stalk through the halls. Practically robotic, but still seem to be human. They are over worked and deathly tired but have an intoxicating goal. The goal, is to set themselves up for a certain status when they leave the system. A certain status that will surely, lead to riches. However, will they be content?
This is the new kind of grade 12 student. One that is set up for success, and is well trained for the long and stressful hours of a drab society. And for their final days in the public school system, they will read, write, and study in search of a happier future.
Saturated in probaganda, they have become slow dormant figures that stalk through the halls. Practically robotic, but still seem to be human. They are over worked and deathly tired but have an intoxicating goal. The goal, is to set themselves up for a certain status when they leave the system. A certain status that will surely, lead to riches. However, will they be content?
This is the new kind of grade 12 student. One that is set up for success, and is well trained for the long and stressful hours of a drab society. And for their final days in the public school system, they will read, write, and study in search of a happier future.
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