smashing pumpkins and orange highlighters
The horrible thing about writing, for me, is that when I want to write I want to write everything. Which means I want to write everything from psychoanalytical philosophy to over-simplified justification for modern politics to fluffy, semi-sweet introspective sex. Not conducive to getting a paper written, that.
But it has let me acknowledge that the best thing in the world is orange highlighter on an off-white page of text, and that there's something a little sacred about shower-time music. I'd say that for moments like that, dorm life's pretty sweet. It balances out moments where you're handed a brand new eight to ten page final paper assignment twenty-three hours before it's due, and fits snuggly in with moments where one of your best friends opens an Izze and it explodes, infusing the carpet with sparkling blackberry jizz.
In the mean time, I think this is what productive procrastination looks like.
But it has let me acknowledge that the best thing in the world is orange highlighter on an off-white page of text, and that there's something a little sacred about shower-time music. I'd say that for moments like that, dorm life's pretty sweet. It balances out moments where you're handed a brand new eight to ten page final paper assignment twenty-three hours before it's due, and fits snuggly in with moments where one of your best friends opens an Izze and it explodes, infusing the carpet with sparkling blackberry jizz.
In the mean time, I think this is what productive procrastination looks like.