muse:talking heads.

i don't even know. allow me to sort myself out through this.

muse:
the voices continue to echo around in my head as i stare down at the pink math book in front of me. geometry. math for real men. that's me, totally. and you, of course. as i sneak a couple of glances at you, you roll your eyes and continue your rant on about how we aren't prepared for the upcoming test. i'm plugged in to my music, but i can hear you loud and clear. the others try to tell you to believe in our group, that we can pull through the hardship if we work at it. you seem more than skeptical. i sit this entire conversation out. i just want to comfort you, with something like "we'll do fine, i know we will," but my mouth won't open. it's like someone pushed the mute button and suddenly my vocal cords don't work anymore. i want to reassure you, to let you know that we'll be okay--i want to be the one to assuage your fears. but my own fear conquers my speech and i just sit on the sidelines in silence. i'll tell you about it later, i think. he'll call, and i'll be able to say something.

no such luck.