Using Crayons

She put the cheeseburger on her cheek, the warmth of mysterious meat still lingering on the golden bun. USB mouse wandered a bit on the brightview screen and found its selection on iTunes. Scroll... Double click. The mouth cavity struggled as it managed to draw the final sips of chocolate milkshake in. “We Both Reached For The Gun” from the infamous Broadway show (and a movie) Chicago began playing. For one downbeat from the drummer, her head took a sharp left shift. Then a right shift. Vice versa; over and over; all topped with a creative series of indescribable motions. She danced like that – if such a ridiculous mix of jerky movements could be defined as so-called dancing. It did not mater that her floormates were outside her door, eavesdropping, laughing, and whatnot. For the sake of all things sacred, more than a month had passed since school had begun. Everyone was already well-aware of her oddity on Jennings West third floor. As long as she wasn't bothering anyone. Just a little dancing and many a blissful expression on her face. Maybe it was a good thing that she rarely saw her roommate. In her own words, she could do whatever the facebook she wanted to. What was that lesson that she was supposed to remember? Oh yes. Lockian philosophy. A God-bestowed-upon pursuit of happiness as long as you didn't violate other individuals' unalienable rights. Oh Locke. Too much time on his hands. Who knew that he'd be torturing carefree, innocent (Ok, maybe not so) college students some four hundred years later? She rolled her eyes. She recalled the movie 1776 and how Mister John Adams had argued the spelling of “inalienable.” She rolled her eyes again. Dumb politicians. More intelligent people need to vote, she thought.

I mean, come on, John, sit down.

Richard Gere's playful voice was still acting as Roxie in the background. A murdress' press conference to earn the sympathy of the community! I wonder how those criminal lawyers sleep at night, knowing that their clients are, in fact, guilty? She thought. Learn how to rope dance and not fall! Says Billy Flynn. Oh Jazz Age.

Away with darned politics and bearded virgin theorists! Time for internet lingo in eye ar el. F'real.

Jump, click, jump, Roxieeeee Hart.

The song was still playing in her head.