i know that it’s not a party if it happens every night

i am not gonna be your savior, your baby in a manger.

lol i made a whole stupid poem based off that line, but it was crap.

ugh i realized today i have a paper due tomorrow: a policy stance argued articulately yet passionately by moi. my paper is total garbage. i mean, it’s garbage i mostly stand by, but it is hurried and neglects to mention many key points. it is about race and gun violence, to be short and sweet and simple on not short, sweet, or simple issues. but the paper length is supposed to be 2-4 pages, and mine’s cutting it close at 4 and 1/2, so yeah, i tied it up in a patriotic bow and will look at it tomorrow and cringe, and hand it in.

it makes me sad to look at. but hey, most of my shit writing is like that.

i actually went through two other topics, gathered all my sources for both and then scrapped my ideas in quick succession as i realized i didn’t really have a hardline, easily-explainable stance in either case.

the first was some drivel about isolationism and wilson, his 14 steps, and why moral diplomacy is probably a little too inflexible and stupid to function in our stupid, global, stupid, pluralistic society. but other than my sleep-deprived brain siding with some simple word like realism, as in like on an international relations level, i couldn’t articulate my admittedly rustic, simple ideas on the subject. liked the whole idea of writing on foreign policy, but it was gonna be too long for a short essay, so i scrapped it.

my second idea for the paper was going well until i delved into research, and then the rabbit-hole thing happened where i realized i didn’t have enough time or energy to spell out my multi-tiered god-level thoughts on the matter. lol, that one was going to be about private prisons. i was waxing too poetic and i realized, no politician, with his putrid scrawny heart, would care about my ideas on the prison system. plus i personally couldn’t figure out a way to convince my embittered enemies in washington that the prison system needed an overhaul. so i deleted my four paragraphs or so and swiped my sources into the trash.

my last sentence in the final and chosen paper was an act of true self-harm: ‘in doing so, we can all benefit from living in a more concerted and much more exceptional america.’

like racial issues and gun violence coexist in a paint-by-numbers, step-by-step version of the world. lulz. I THINK NOT.

i’m hitting the hay. as in, sleeping. i’m losing my freaking mind over everything in the whole universe right now.


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