Dear God Above!
Dear God Above!
I am not a happy at this moment. Well I suppose it's not really at this moment. These moments would be somewhat more applicable, but it's really just the world is pissing me off lately. There aren't any specific reasons, but there are contributing factors.
To begin, the year is ending soon. The school year. Though at first thought that seems like a good thing, there really is a downside. THE DARK SIDE OF SUMMER VACATION. Alright, not summer, per se, but you get the idea. You see I procrastinate, a lot. Most of the year this is of little consequence, you hand in projects a little late here and there, and nobody really cares. But at the end of the year, there isn't time in which to hand things in late. As that final time approaches you begin to realize that time is running out. Completely against logic you continue to put work off. the time shrinks and you begin to worry that you won't finish projects, which isn't surprising as you haven't even started them. The worry becomes anxiety, and anxiety become stress and due to those you still don't do the projects until you finally know you have no more time and you break down and do the bloody work and hand it in. And finally you an relax, which of course you could have done weeks ago, had you just done the work then. That is the first reason.
Second. Family. Families are... how shall I put this... EVIL FUCKS. Alright, so I'm being somewhay overdramatic, but they bloody well deserve it. Of course my mother is naggy at some times, for example when there is something I'm supposed to do, like send in my ARTSTREK application. Now I know that unless I'd been nagged I probably wouldn't have done it and then I wouldn't be able to go to my happy drama camp, which would have pissed me off and promted me to sulk and write a rant about my own stupidity (which may come at some point anyway), but I still hate that I get nagged for things like that.
My mum has been nagging me for months to clean my room, and I have repeatedly put it off. So a week and a half ago, when I'm not in the house, in she goes and cleans the whole bloody thing. I walk into my room when I get home and what's the first thing I do? I scream. It was a shock. You can see floor. Not just a little patch of floor through a gap in the clothing and paper jacket the floor usually wears, but the whole thing. THE WHOLE BLOODY FLOOR! Not onl that, but she threw away one of my pillows. I know it was old and dead and lumpy and gross underneath the pillowcase, but it was mine. It was my bloody pillow. And now I have another pillow and my head is a bloody foot off the matress, which isn't really a matress, but rather a sort of matress crossed with a futon. A Matron. That'll probably be the next thing she tosses. Bloody Hell.
Is there a third thing? Probably? People. Friends. Enemies. Everyone and no one. Everything and nothing. Especially nothing. Hmm I can't think of anything else to say now, so I will go and do some of that damned schoolwork. Aghnarr, suicide is like pie, but substancially less awesome and not at all similar in any way.
I am not a happy
To begin, the year is ending soon. The school year. Though at first thought that seems like a good thing, there really is a downside. THE DARK SIDE OF SUMMER VACATION. Alright, not summer, per se, but you get the idea. You see I procrastinate, a lot. Most of the year this is of little consequence, you hand in projects a little late here and there, and nobody really cares. But at the end of the year, there isn't time in which to hand things in late. As that final time approaches you begin to realize that time is running out. Completely against logic you continue to put work off. the time shrinks and you begin to worry that you won't finish projects, which isn't surprising as you haven't even started them. The worry becomes anxiety, and anxiety become stress and due to those you still don't do the projects until you finally know you have no more time and you break down and do the bloody work and hand it in. And finally you an relax, which of course you could have done weeks ago, had you just done the work then. That is the first reason.
Second. Family. Families are... how shall I put this... EVIL FUCKS. Alright, so I'm being somewhay overdramatic, but they bloody well deserve it. Of course my mother is naggy at some times, for example when there is something I'm supposed to do, like send in my ARTSTREK application. Now I know that unless I'd been nagged I probably wouldn't have done it and then I wouldn't be able to go to my happy drama camp, which would have pissed me off and promted me to sulk and write a rant about my own stupidity (which may come at some point anyway), but I still hate that I get nagged for things like that.
My mum has been nagging me for months to clean my room, and I have repeatedly put it off. So a week and a half ago, when I'm not in the house, in she goes and cleans the whole bloody thing. I walk into my room when I get home and what's the first thing I do? I scream. It was a shock. You can see floor. Not just a little patch of floor through a gap in the clothing and paper jacket the floor usually wears, but the whole thing. THE WHOLE BLOODY FLOOR! Not onl that, but she threw away one of my pillows. I know it was old and dead and lumpy and gross underneath the pillowcase, but it was mine. It was my bloody pillow. And now I have another pillow and my head is a bloody foot off the matress, which isn't really a matress, but rather a sort of matress crossed with a futon. A Matron. That'll probably be the next thing she tosses. Bloody Hell.
Is there a third thing? Probably? People. Friends. Enemies. Everyone and no one. Everything and nothing. Especially nothing. Hmm I can't think of anything else to say now, so I will go and do some of that damned schoolwork. Aghnarr, suicide is like pie, but substancially less awesome and not at all similar in any way.
1 Comments:
I think I will argue that suicide is not at all like pie. Pie is good, suicide less so. Also, suicide makes people generally sad, and pie is much happier... but of course, I'm in no position to judge due to the fact that I've never commited suicide. However, if I end up doing so at any point in my life, I'll let you know... Hey, you could somehow commit suicide while eating pie. That would be happy. At least, so I think.
-Keilah
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