In the beginning of this year, I made a goal for myself. It's was probably a pretty simple one, something that every other teen in the freaking world promises, but never fulfills. I told myself not to procrastinate. At all. Like, not to the extreme where I would go all self-mutilation on myself for not doing assignments set on their given day; but so that I could keep up with work, while not getting dragged down into the muddy pit of boredom monsters. That goal or dream held up for a good week. Because during that week, an arrow to distract my train of thought smacked the straight center of my responsibility castle. Something that distracts, also known as...(BUM BUM BUM!) getting back together with an ex. Or, getting together with anyone for that matter. And anybody that's actually of the human variety would understand that this is bound to be distracting. To some point. Well, I told myself it wouldn't be, and now I'm sitting here being like "SHIT FUCK MAAANNN I GOT WORKK!" on a quite sunday afternoon, missing a birthday party, and still wasting my time blogging. >.< Irony works in gorgeous, sparkling ways...
The paper winced
It's sharp tip had hit
A soft spot
In my essay.
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