(no subject)
Does everyone not simply adore my inconsistency in life? I know the ideal that I could possibly mean everything to everyone is irrational, but nothing else could rid my mind of this discontent. Days plague my life in which I care to accomplish naught in my life, and other days, I spend attoning for my idleness. I feel as if in a sick way, this circle of effort helps me to excel. After I realize my life takes no steer, I haul biblical proportions of ass to escape the grave I dig for myself. I wrote an APEnglish paper in one hour to save my ass from receiving yet another "F", and my teacher pulled me outside of the class to yell at me for not trying(that's what I thought, anyway). She explains to me that I grasp concepts more quickly than others, and my paper was refreshingly transcendent. Who knew? Hmm...inconsistency...