Procrastination…


Of sorts.

It’s not really procrastination. At least I keep telling myself that.

I’m biding my time. Making good use of the moments that I have…

While not working on my essay for English class.

Like, seriously, it’s only 500 words. I can do that with my eyes closed (honestly, sometimes I type my stuff with my eyes closed just to see how messed up my typing skills are). Now, make it make sense as it relates to critically analyzing a story I had to read and base the entire thing off of?

Well…. that’s a different subject. One that I truly don’t care for. One, because as I have previously written about, I don’t really like to read as much as I like to write. Second, this whole ‘analyze’ thing. Seriously, who does that? Who looks at a story for this deep meaning? Who reads a poem to figure out the ‘human voice’ it portrays (yep, one of my assignments for American Lit)? Where do people come up with this stuff?

Maybe I’m just a shallow writer. Maybe I just like to tell a good story. Maybe I really don’t include a ton of subtext in the fiction I post. Maybe… I do.

But why do we have to nitpick the brain of an author and figure out what they are saying.

And poets are the worst. I think I have seriously lost any appetite I have ever had for poetry in these two classes. All this context, subtext, pretext, text text.. I feel like I’m listening to teenagers tell me about conversations they had with the bae.

On a side note… bae? Really? That extra ‘B’ was just TOO much for you to type? Stop it.

Ok, back to whatever it was that I was trying to get at… oh, procrastination.

Yep, totally putting off writing this paper. I should be doing it now. Ok, maybe I should be working.. but.. moot point in this argument…

It is my own fault. I am the one who decided to take English 2 and American Lit at the same time.

So much reading… SOOOOOOO much….

If you need me, I will be somewhere else typing this monstrosity of a critical analysis about some old dude with huge wings.

Yah, fun.

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