i sit here and i feel miniscule drops of perspiration form on my skin. i am covered, head to toe, in a thin film of sweat, and it is driving me a little insane. my arms rest on the desk and, after a few seconds, they begin to slide as a result of the moisture.
i hate summer.
i am supposed to be writing my essay; it's due tomorrow. i have started and restarted it, but i just can't find anything to write about. no inspiration. i don't want to write about insomnia, everybody knows what happens when you can't sleep. i think i should write about the night dancing. she could be night, she could dance.
i think i just found inspiration.
aaand i think the bell is going to ring now, the gay bell at this gay school, we're not even allowed to put our bags in the hallways. it's a fucking school, FFS. there are bound to be bags strewn all over the place.