“unfiltered indefinitely”.
i instantly thought to myself “this… is absolutely pretentious”. but i think i just like the alliteration of it; it rolls off my tongue nicely. for all purposes, this is going to be a journal. of my thoughts. my life. my feelings towards life (they’re fucking strong). no fancy sentence structures, no polite wording. you get it.
so, yeah, a 20 something college aged person. i will remain mostly, if not completely, anonymous in terms of who i actually am. hopefully that will remain.
so it is 1:05 AM. i am working on a reflection for an internship fair i had to attend. the fair itself was probably one of the worst things i have ever attended. i assumed i looked fat in my suit, as i tend to think. there were so many students there as well. we all just dicked around walking through the science-fair-esque bull shit these creepy companies kept trying to shove down our throats. dangling mediocre opportunity-for-experience offers to us because of whatever dense reason. however, the internship was just for a class i take that prepares us for our little slice of fucking life: a career. oh, yes! a career, fucking excellent. anyway, the woman who teaches it is… quite a quirk on my day-to-day life. she seems timid, but her voice carries so much confidence. she tries to hide her insecurities with a spirited voice and polite demeanor. she is absolutely precious. she bleeds contentment, which makes the class not terrible. still, it is keeping me up– trust me, i’m no night owl, it’s fucking 1:14 AM. i am exhausted.
you must be thinking it, this guy is complaining about a simple sounding homework assignment and whining about it being late– he is probably a slacker. to that i say: you are absolutely right in saying i am a fucking slacker. why? i think because i am obsessed with pleasure, with distract.
i just say my ADD is what causes me to be an under-achiever (mostly true) and stop it there, no further explanation needed, nor deserved. not only is it true, but it takes some accountability off of my being itself– which is what we live off of, is it not?
this the first of my seemingly pretentious banter. will i shake this feeling off? probably not; i have a horrid relationship with modesty.
Loading comments...