I really wish I had some reliable scientific evidence supporting the incredible urge to shove a BUTTER KNIFE INTO MY TEMPLE!!!
 Maybe somehow, someway It could reach my brain, and do something, someway, somehow inside there to help me concentrate on this 8-10 page paper due in the morning that I cannot concentrate on for the life of me.
For the life of me.
I turn the music off, and my thoughts step up to stage…Sadly they're very rarely attuned to what I am somehow obligated to complete. And they don't shut the hell up, so I end up ranting. Like so.
I turn the music on and sometimes I'll work.
Sometimes I'll space out.
Other times I'll get distracted by that, which will inspire me to learn more about whatever random unrelated thing they're going on about and then I’m screwed. Like so.

Oh, seriously. Am I seriously going to go on a tirade about how frustrating it is not being able to concentrate and submit all of my concentration to the subject??
Are you serious?
I need to turn in the writing assignment I had due last week that has far too many pages, and it's not even complete.
It is so frustrating. SO FRUSTRATING!!
I can spend hours focusing on the most retarded, pointless things when they interest me, but once I'm dragged back into the real world and faced with responsibilities, time lines, competition–it cripples me.
Why can't you just leave me alone to my gathering of escapism??
Chuck full or random/pointless information, because I love to learn…but why wont you just let me live and learn comfortably?  
What's that you say?? There is no way to contribute to society successfully without some sort of hard-copy preferably a transcript with beaming laser grades and rainbows, and opportunities and sexual favors to prove my capabilities to perform likely routine tasks that if I hadn't known in the first place would have been quickly acquired?!?!
Ah.
Self control…I could go on for another twenty minutes about the juxtaposition of almost all of my habits.
I am the most disagreeable person TO MYSELF that I have ever come across.
Well how lovely, how about some tea?
Maybe I have a phantom Siamese twin, that's only pleasure in life is making things miserable for me.
Think I'm on to something.
That has gotten so exhausting…it is so hard to try and describe why you're not capable of doing, at times, the simplest tasks for reasons unknown to yourself.
 
The best way to describe it is imagining yourself as a machine with many different parts and functions and blah blah blah.
Well, imagine someone just decided to randomly take vital equipment out of the machine at random, leaving it completely non-operational, until it was returned and properly installed again.
Unfortunately this installing process takes much longer, and is much harder because….UGH!
Then you want to do extreme things to change something, to throw in some kind of wild card [i.e.-Playing Red Rover with a Mack truck] and get this burden off your shoulders… but that wouldn't be right.
No. Going throughout life being stressed out by the smallest things, realizing this, and not being able to change it is the acceptable way to lose.

I give up on trying to make sense of everything. What the fuck is wrong with me?

And these are the times in which I would just like to hide.

Yours truly,
Wait. Where did this butter knife come from, anyway?
 
 
     

You'd better believe that made me laugh hard. 

UGH!! And I can't STAND that habit of completely sullying the message of an entire rant by laughing at random shit!!!! >___< Eh.Whatever.Aaww…my reds are off.

There.