Brain Drain.
The more work I need to do, the more perversely my thoughts rebel. I'm a little surprised; usually pressure forces work out of me in some form, but now I'm just raising my eyebrow at my books. And I'd like to actually be creative and work on my , you know, writing, but I can't because I need to do logs. And until it's all done, I don't have the room to breath get to do anything creative.
If Lit can't count as an art credit, it should at least count as an English class so that I have a free period to enjoy getting that art credit. And so I don't have to spout the same stuff that turns into bullshit through overkill in Lit, English, and Theatre (in order of descending intelligence of the bullshit). Have I mentioned we're reading the Crucible in Theatre too? The greatest accomplishment in that class has possibly been Aladdin's creation of Connect Four on paper, which I assure, is not much. Maybe becoming friendly with Josh of the Amazing Exploding Monologue beats it. It's a shame, cause I like theatre, despite all those whackos who run around our school in blacks.
Okay. Maybe I can do something now.
If Lit can't count as an art credit, it should at least count as an English class so that I have a free period to enjoy getting that art credit. And so I don't have to spout the same stuff that turns into bullshit through overkill in Lit, English, and Theatre (in order of descending intelligence of the bullshit). Have I mentioned we're reading the Crucible in Theatre too? The greatest accomplishment in that class has possibly been Aladdin's creation of Connect Four on paper, which I assure, is not much. Maybe becoming friendly with Josh of the Amazing Exploding Monologue beats it. It's a shame, cause I like theatre, despite all those whackos who run around our school in blacks.
Okay. Maybe I can do something now.