Fourier's Transform

All my classes are in the same half-dark auditorium-type room in the engineering building. The professors stand and lecture, scribbling with their red markers on the distant whiteboard. It's difficult to make out red. The other day I kept waking up. My head was in my notebook, but I don't remember it drooping. Then, again. And again.

I walked through the Fine Arts building today. I saw pictures...drawings on the wall. In the distance I heard a familiar tune. "99 Red Balloons," I thought. But as I drew closer and poked my head into a messy art room, with students busily working with their hands, I corrected myself. "99 Luftballoons," the original German version.

I miss sensory stimulation.