Six twelve: I have completed three lessons in french.
Six fifteen: if I sit at my desk I'll be more productive, hypothetically. So I'm gonna clean the thick ass wall of junk off my desk with careful diligence.
Six eighteen: it is supper. Progress halts.
Six twenty seven: supper is still pending but I did scroll through tumblr for a while so.
Seven oh two: I have returned with tea and newfound inspiration.
Seven thirty six: I have completed about half a page. The question has arisen of whether aliens are relevant to a discussion about ancient gods, and my answer is yes. It is entirely possible that I will fail this assignment.
Eight oh five: my writing in the pages of notes is so messy I thought the word 'job' was 'solo' and that's the story of my life right there.
Eight sixteen:
Oops! Această imagine nu respectă Ghidul de Conținut. Pentru a continua publicarea, te rugăm să înlături imaginea sau să încarci o altă imagine.
Look. It's not even halfway done but look. (I cannot pick another major archetype and have decided to return to my procrastination. Thank you for believing in me but it's probably a lost cause at this point, at least academically.)
Eight twenty two: hozier is my only comfort in this dark world. My snack of frozen raspberries have turned against me, those sour little bastards...
Eight twenty seven: just went on an in essay rant about what to call good and evil. Starting to get tired, the delirium is on it's way. On the bright side, when I'm delirious I tend to use words I wouldnt even think of otherwise. It's my number one trick.
Eight forty one: "Gods as perfect, and humans as their terrible nightmare children" might be the single best line I've ever written. For the record.
Eight fifty two: I have to assume that since I'm banned, in no uncertain terms, from cracking jokes, that I'm not allowed to make movie references. But. I felt like it.
Nine o one: I can feel my strength draining into the floor. The end is near. I may pass out soon and that's okay. I'll do that happily.
Nine o two: nevermind. This is due first period.
Nine oh seven: my English teacher has a very solid system that makes it incredibly difficult to bullshit things. Like. Not doing the work is almost more work than just doing it. And this is why I'm still trying to figure out which parts of ancient stories are important to me. The answer is simultaneously none of them and the ones about magic and stuff.
Nine twelve:
Oops! Această imagine nu respectă Ghidul de Conținut. Pentru a continua publicarea, te rugăm să înlături imaginea sau să încarci o altă imagine.
This absolute bullshittery of a goodass word that I have to work into my paper somewhere. I fricking love big words, they're so overlycomplicated, but GOD not that one.
Oops! Această imagine nu respectă Ghidul de Conținut. Pentru a continua publicarea, te rugăm să înlături imaginea sau să încarci o altă imagine.
It's in my notes TWICE this is too much.
Nine nineteen: is double indentation a thing. Like. Can I just indent twice for the heck of it. For funsies. To separate the first half from the second half but more importantly because it looks ridiculous.
Nine twenty three: "to tackle the supernatural beings" *pins god to the ground* you're one of us now
Nine thirty five: just went on a rant about how we probably live in a simulation. Things are not looking good marks wise.
Ten oh two: so close yet so far. It's not done, but it's close?
Ten oh five: "it doesnt really matter who's good (the gays) or who's evil (trump)"
Ten eleven: "balance is pretty cool for everyone involved, and generally war sucks" no I do not have stories to reference I pulled both of those out of star wars. That is my creation story. Twas how I was born.
Ten twenty seven: I finished it but I forgot to put in major aspects of what I'm being graded on so that's fun. Love speculating on how ancient civilizations saw the world...
Ten fifty two: I have decided to stop now. It is roughly kinda done so like. What's the worst that can happen. Yknow?
