The tale Holly Myers has to tell is a gripping one. This piece of literature is leaps and bounds better than any other written in the last century. Actually, I take that back; it does appear to be the best paper in the tri-state area however. Congrats dude.

hmmmmmmmmmmmm... no class? yay.

Yesterday I realized why I used to enjoy writing so much. Basically, it stimulated my mind. I would attempt to piece together a puzzle, with each sentence being a piece. Crafting puzzles became one of my very few strong suites. Sadly, this is no longer the case; it appears that I have lost this skill.

Writer's Block

I didn't finish my draft. I began working on it, but had the worst case of writer's block I've ever experienced. It took me around two hours to get a sketchy paragraph-and-a-half down. I gave up, mainly because the frustration was driving me insane. I have never had this much trouble writing anything in my life, and it finally makes me feel how all the idiots in my high school English classes felt. Writing used to be my only strong suite, and now it's just another thing I'm awful at. Awesome.

God damn I have the worst writer's block I've ever had. After an hour, all I have written is a paragraph and a half, and not they're not even good. My block is so bad I'm having trouble writing this blog post. I'm mind fucking myself, that's what it is.

Vyvanse is made to help students procrastinate, contrary to popular belief. With the intent to begin writing my research draft, I eat one. Afterward, I wait for it to kick in; so naturally I play some Oblivion. This was a poor decision. I become engrossed in the game, wasting hours in the process. Shit happens. I'm not very upset about it.

Home

At night, I feel as if the world is laid out before me. I could go anywhere, if only I knew how to walk. I try, and my clumsy feet obstruct one another. I fall. It's a perpetual thing. I never hit the ground. I keep falling, yet the scenery never changes. I am stuck, alienated in a world that is all my own. This world is not laid about before me. This world repeats itself, a series of film strips that I have seen, time in time again. Boredom scuttles into my brain. I lose all emotional and physical feeling. The fall goes on. I think ahead and pray for the moment when I will hit the ground; the timeless earth surely will help me. It will jar the insanity out of me, won't it? What will happen after the hit? Is it possible for me to exist after this fall? The answer comes upon me with blinding speed; I hit. I get up, the memory of my fall becomes the smoke in the morning mist. I try to walk again; I fall.

research paper

Our group has decided on three topics; contraceptives and Catholics, born gay, and assisted suicide. Personally, I am not interested in any of these, but if forced to choose, I would have to choose contraceptives and Catholics. I'm unsure why, but it seems more interesting and not as common as the other topics.

and shit, I just read the example cover letter. What the fuck? I shouldn't have to explain my writing, that should be someone else's job. I wrote it, I know it. Me writing it is explanation enough; read and interpret. 

I apologize beforehand for my rude statements.

I am really frustrated by the open letter assignment. Admittedly, I began writing my open letter today, but I just am not interested in writing this way. I understand that we are writing this way in an attempt to express our ideas in a new way. I get this, but I hate it. I would have preferred to have freedom in the formatting of this writing, simply because I feel as if i would have written it in a more creative way. Just saying.  

Toby

i cant write anything today. brain dead. so why am i currently sculpting this blog post? because eventually ill be forced to, so i might as well get this nonsense out of the way now. i woke up at 9:15, showered and returned to my dorm, unprepared to write my first draft. needless to say, i only accomplished a meager one paragraph. hoorah

Damn I have a lot of shit I need to do.. By taking this blog off my "To Do List," I still need to do laundry, get printer ink, soap and shampoo, get a haircut, go to the bookstore, do more laundry, and homework. I'm fucked.

I seem to be having issues deciding what to put in my blog. There is nothing relevant enough to compel me to write something small and insignificant about it. Should I blog about my trip to Purdue this weekend? Should I talk about the enormous highlighter party I went to? No, I do not think I should write about these things. When I actually write about something, I tend to try and make it about something important, and I do not believe my extracurricular activities are important in that sense. Writing should have substance and depth, which is hard to accomplish in a blog.

I've been attempting to write my memoir, but there isn't a moment in my life that is exciting enough to write about. What am I supposed to do?

tired as fuck. ha wanna sleep in class. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh kill me dude. im not interested in this shit at all. sorry man. im hungover, tired, hungry, etc. i dont have an audience. you, my teacher, are my only reader. there is no audience for my blog. i could put whatever i wanted on here and nobody would ever notice.

 im currently thinking about hte stupidity of myopic mormons. polygamy is crazy. very interesting id say. tuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Gmail Sucks

Gmail sucks. It took me forever just to create a gmail account. Tuhhhhhhhhhh!