Man, if there was ever a torture system to all humanity, it'd have to be taking a psychology and sociology class at the same time.
Demyx tapped his pencil against his open textbook, trying hard to refrain from getting carried away into a rhythm. Things like that were just too easy. Social class assignments, like breaking down intense vocabulary and understanding the basics of the mind structure and interaction between humans enough to form coherent responses, were just too much. "So if I know what I like and someone else takes a liking to it, then their mind works the same?" He asked himself aloud. Musing over the fact that water couldn't take a liking to itself, and that it wasn't even human, Demyx started humming.
He rolled over onto his back and reached underneath his bed for his other textbook. Maybe if he just tried a few more of these words, then he'd know those words better. He held the book above him and flipped through the pages, searching for a certain chapter. After mouthing the definition of humanist and unconditioned stimulus response about five times, he closed the book and flung it back under the bed. Procrastination was looking so much better by the minute, so he opted instead to lounge out on his bed.
"If only Namine were here." He thought as he watched the dust motes float to the ceiling. It was like she knew and comprehended everything she came across, including the male species of men. He blinked his eyes and yawned, hoping that some idea would randomly come to him before Murphy's Law kicked in and he was done for.
He crossed his legs and tried to remember the way a mind worked. Thoughts were made, but from what? They sat around in the brain until the person/animal/whatever found something to do with them. It would connect them to a memory or a reaction to something. They could be their own little pieces, like if he thought "Oh, I want to write a letter for someone," and then actually did it. Okay, maybe that's not how the mind worked, but that's how his did.
Scoffing, he rolled off the bed and tugged his shirt back down into place. If he was going to figure this out then he would need to see Namine. He knelt down and scooped up his textbooks, crushing the papers between the pages, and walked out of the room whistling.