I'm in the middle of class

So I'm on my computer in the middle of discussion. I can barely stay awake, think straight, and keep my food down without concentrating too hard. My backpack is too heavy, the grass is too thick, the air I've been breathing is so sparse from conditioners and smoke and dust and fear that I would pass out in a truly natural place. My body is pulsing periodically from the flow of blood, and maybe this is what time is. I can't see, my head aches, and I just want to lay down, maybe to rest, maybe to die. My teeth have had their metallic straightening construct affixed firmly to them for the past few years that I don't even know how to smile anymore. I've been doing things that I need to for so long that I don't know what I want anymore. So much so that I live on impulse. Biting down so strongly my tongue bleeds. Stapling myself because I've never done it before. Letting my fingers flow on a keyboard and observing the monkey's madness form fiction and fallacy. My keyboard clicks too loudly, I haven't clipped my nails in 2 weeks. I have more hair on my upper arms than muscle. I can't lift my car. I can't lift my plate. My dog lifted his head just now, but I can't know why. He's 35 miles away. He, of course, is just the category we ascribe to difference. He is not too different from a she. He is too different from a she. Her name might be spelled with a J or a Y, but those symbols aren't necessary to know her name. Two days ago, the Earth was on a tragic point in its orbit. God is studying his plum fermenting in a petri dish. Would He know what enjoy is?