God bless the child that can hold his own

I am an 18-year old, not-unattractive male. I live in one or the brightest, shiniest countries in the world. It's a sunny day, and the birds are singing. I have no pressing concerns, and a sick day off from school.

Boy, am I depressed.

I have an assignment due I don't know when, an essay to work on, and Photoshop work just sitting there. I have no appitite or intrest in anything, though the former can be ascribed to the perscription cough medicine the doctor perscribed, which tastes like vanilla. Horrible, horrible vanilla. I'm doing mediocrely to bad in school, and worst of all, I'm feeling an emotional disconnect from everything. You know how one goes on autopilot when one has a really bad migrane? Yeah, that's me.

I get sick so easily, it's frustrating. I have the worst immune system in my immediate family, and withing the acquaintance of said immediate family. My sister shook this thing off in a day. It's a week and I've still got a hacking cough, which is actually the least of my syptoms, what with the earaches, migranes, and joint pain.

Worst of all is COB's actively retarded Arts program. Our 3D Design teacher thinks teaching is telling us to go make something around a certain principle expressed by a brief definition in the book is 'teaching'. To be honest, I've been slacking. There's some work I should be doing even now.

All my percieved faults and inadequacies and deadlines and needless assignments come crashing down, funneling my head into a deep dark pit of despair.

I wish I was the kind of person who would use this juncture to get drunk.
//cause when it's on it' s on

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