it's 5:42 pm, on February 06, 2003 - award season again.
~
How can you tell that it's essay season again?
That's right! I'm seriously considering rewatching the 2001 MTV Video Music Awards.
So, yes, my self-loathing has reached an all-time high. What, you think I'm joking? Oh no. Last night I read a thousand high school AUs, one of them being Human Behavior. The night before I read an nsync AU where Justin and Lance were little kids who were abused in a home for unwanted gay kids. No, really.
I swear. There was a paedophiliac social worker named Joan.
So there's that. There's also the MTV VMAs, which, I swear. Rae and I have started using the VMAs as code for suicide.
"I hate my life. I hate my life with the passion and burning of a thousand suns."
"There's nothing left for you to do but watch the 2001 VMAs again."
There's also my birthday, in a month. And really, what better way to celebrate my birthday, since I've got a midterm that day and thus cannot get drunk in Vegas, than getting stoned and watching Jamie Foxx kill MTV deader than it's ever been?
The Grammys are in, what, two weeks? I can't wait. the plan is to make daquiris and get drunk. Last year we did tequila shots and passed out while watching Eminem tell people to fuck the fuck off. See, and Pamie didn't even recap it. I miss Pamie recapping things that make me want to die. You hear that, Pamie? Please recap the Grammies this year. If you don't, life might be so horrible that I have to watch the 2001 VMAs.
But seriously. I think all of this procrastination has a lot to do with the fact that my brain is petitioning for a permanent vacation. I just don't want to *think* anymore. I want to sit around, play Hollywood Squares, and once and a while tell the media to fuck off. It's saying "fuck off, just go and accept your low rent housing fate already!" And I'm sitting here, plodding away at getting a degree which my own mind is rebelling against.
So I'm trying to write an essay, or read something, or whatever, and then that Sense comes over me. That Sense of "you don't have to do this. Do it later!" So I put the book down, or open up some gawdawful popslash AU, and proceed to waste a thousand hours. Meanwhile my Brain is off in Cancun or something, sitting on the beach, gettin' a tan and sipping tequila while pretty girls serve it.
It's really not fair that my higher reasoning capacity can take a vacation without me. You know?
So I have an essay that I have to finish tonight, later, whenever. That Sense is back. Somewhere in Mexico, my brain is laughing at me. I hate my life.
...it's time to watch the 2001 VMAs.
~
-
what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015
-