screencaps

Because I can, that's why.

Also because I felt the urge to point out how few posts I made in all of 2012. I'm so sorry, dear old blog. I guess you've just fallen out of favour with me. Possibly because Blogger has fallen out of favour with the world in general, to be honest.

Yep. 

Also, I figured while I was riffling through my screen capture folder I might as well include this: a little demonstration of the horrible number of tabs I had open during the writing of last semester's company law coursework. And this was during the writing, mind you - the research and readings were much worse. Meh. I know I'm just being a terrible student and a complete lazybones, but ugh I hate dry reading. Like now, because I'm writing this as an excuse to look away from International Business.

That's a highly-recommended playlist, by the way.

Toodles.

in which the author finds her attention drifting

Theoretically, there shouldn't be any reason for my inability to concentrate. I'm holed up in my room with tea and biscuits and music. Nothing's missing from my usual studying needs. And yet there's something writhing and wriggling in my head that won't let me sit still and focus - something that pokes and prods and won't leave. I've never had a great attention span, but this is ridiculous. Even now, I'm listlessly writing about it because I can't concentrate on my notes. Ugh.

on dangerous thoughts

(mirror to my tumblr post)

It’s three minutes to six and I just considered self-harming.

I don’t even know what brought that on. I’ve considered suicide in the past — nice and painless, if possible — but I’d stated quite flatly that I believed self-harm to be the one thing I’d never do. And yet I find that I just did, less than a minute ago. How odd, is the main sentiment that comes to mind. I don’t feel any strong emotion right now, so what brought that on? I’m quite sure I’m not depressed. I’ve been there before, and I’m not there now. How odd.

Up until the moment itself, I’d been engrossed in the usual mundane things I amuse myself with on the internet. I got up to go to the bathroom. I had scarcely closed the door behind me when the thought came to my mind. For something so dramatic, it sure happened at an incredibly undramatic location. If it had to have happened in the bathroom, I’d have imagined it at the very least to occur while I mournfully stared at myself in the mirror, or while I took a long, contemplative shower. Having such thoughts while standing right in the middle of the bathroom, not thinking about anything in particular and hands halfway undoing my belt, is somewhat perversely disappointing.

How odd.