where is your heart?...

I ran up the stairs (if it is possible to run up those stairs), my whole body screaming at my for the exertion. These stairs went on forever. Every time I climbed those stairs, I felt as though I was climbing up to heaven, and that each step took me one step closer to the paradise at the end. Unfortunately, it was always something of a letdown when at the end of the long ascent, I found a very average looking sitting area outside of the doors that led to the hallway after hallway of classrooms. Not exactly the eternal paradise I alwayz expected, but nothing is ever as I expect it to be. That does not mean that everything always goes badly; it just means that things are always...unusual in my life. As I neared the end of the flight of stairs, my sense of expectation was at its height, though my mind was fully aware of the fact that nothing but the sitting room awaited me. I wanted to stop right beofore I reached the top, to let the illusion last a moment longer, that maybe when I opened my expectant eyes, my imaginary world that led me to the top of those stairs every day would somehow be there. I couldn't stop though. The sense of expectation was too great, and my body would not obey the command of my mind. At last, I was there! And there it was, the loathsome sitting area. It wasn't as though it was such a horrible sitting area in and of itself. Chairs were grouped together where students sat together and studied or just talked until their classes came. There were no arms to these chairs, so together they formed strange couches. I became suddenly aware of the weight of my backpack, and it suddenly felt as though a small child had lept up the stairs behind me and was now clinging to me for dear life, though putting its own life in peril as I almost stumbled backwards all the way back down. My backpack was phenominally large for the size of person I am. It looked as though at least half my body weight was contained in the large pack, and many a strange glance was thrown my way throughout the day as I trudged around carrying the huge thing. I have a theory that its weight increases expontentially throughout the day. No matter what I take out of it, or how often I put it down, it is invariably heavier by the end of the day than it was in the morning. I am almost posative that this theory could be proved a fact if I just carried a scale with me and weighed it once in the morning and then again in the evening, but that would mean I would have to carry the scale with me, and let me tell you, it would definately not be worth the added weight. Walking over to the sitting area, I dropped the boulder off my back and onto the floor, expecting the building to tremble under the sudden weight added to its frame. I turned my face away from the room to look out the windows. The world stood still for a moment as my gaze was captured. Tiredness overwhelmed, and I dropped onto the chairs beneath me, curling up, letting sleep steal over me. My last thoughts before I drifted was something along the lines of, "This chair smells like Dr. Pepper," and then, "I knew I should have taken the elevator."