Formative first grade is distracting me from the film

I think the universe wants me to work out something.

Nice conversational kid twice my age who made me a clay heart on the steps in front of my apartment and "bad" but also very conversational kid in class who played with plastic red sticks from cheese and crackers packages and didn't go to the religion class and there were so many pencil scribbles.

Everywhere (on the desk, on paper).

It's because the teacher was so mean. I wonder if she liked poetry? She liked plants. A LOT better than us.