So I've been studying, and now I'm taking a break, but I hadn't had Internet access for like two hours, and in that time I read a lot and then started writing a story just for fun. But then my friend lent me her Ethernet cord and I immediately put down my book, stopped working on my story, and checked Facebook. I hadn't even been thinking about doing so, it was just some sort of sad Pavlovian reaction to holding the cord in my hand. And like...I don't know, it was so robotic, it creeped me out and made me ashamed to be a creative writing minor. We all know I can't read fiction anymore but I hope I always retain my passion for writing it. I guess you can consider this blog a form of "creative writing," but like, come on.
The worst part is that while I know I can just get the fuck off the Internet...I don't know if I'd want to. The Internet is a drug that turns my motivation into Twitter updates and reveals any thought I'd considered original to be trite, old, and conjured by someone far smarter than me.
WOO HAPPY DAY OFF FROM SCHOOL.
P.S. Case in point; my friends are talking about heuristic approaches to modes of classical learning (or something), and I just laughed out loud at this. Seriously, ewwww.