Save Me Some Hot Water Pt. 2

Recently, a few things have been bothering me. Like how I overuse the word "cinematic" because I genuinely think everything is cinematic and can't properly describe anything I witness without viewing myself as Meg Ryan in a movie starring Meg Ryan. I think it's a coping mechanism to handle all the ways I've failed at handling real things that have been happening.

Another is an adult thing. I don't really focus on adult things so that fact that the idea of "future plans" has been a monkey on my back.

I often stray from reality to comatose myself with my alter-universe of Daydreamatropolis, where the guys like me, the homework doesn't matter, and food is always fried. Is it viable to be mad that my realm of fantasy lacks any system of work and ethic because I've been so spoiled? To not be able to create feasible dreams because of my relatively "silver-platter" lifestyle?

How many hours, days, years have I wasted sifting through the internet? Re-folding laundry? Biting my nails? Even as I sit in detention with a full agenda I opt for blogging route instead of productivity. My grades attest to my failure of responsibility. I want to attend University of Housewife or College of Little Strife.

Tears, man, tears.