Why is it that when I finally put my head on my pillow and pull my mink blanket up to my chin (because even though nights are warmer now, I love the cosy all-over-body hug it gives), and I shut my tired eyes that my brain decides it's a perfect time to think about things and stuff.
I don't want to think about how to relate real life examples of heroes into my English report.
I don't want to think about the possibility that the main reason that I'm so intrigued about trying to understand why people do the things they do was so I can best analyse why I do what I do so I can explain to people the inner workings of my thoughts in the hopes that they can empathise with me. Because with empathy comes forgiveness and you can hate someone less if you can see where they're coming from. And I want people to like me less so I try provide reasons for my irrationality, insecurities and stuff.
I don't want to think about how awesome the BBC television show Sherlock is (although, it is!).
I don't want to think about all the fictional characters I wish were real and in my life.
I don't want to think about how cute a kid was with his dad flying their kite today at the park was.
I don't want to think about how it sucks that the weekend comprises of only two days.
I don't want to think about the fact that in my second half of my last year at high school but that everything will be okay. Hundreds of people have had last years of high school long before I started my first year. This is not a new phenomenon to the human race, only to me. Much like most things in my life. It's all been done before. So just keep calm and carry on.
I don't want to think about the fact that it's now 1:30am and start counting the hours that I have to sleep.
I don't want to think about all the things I need to do before Monday morning.
I don't want to think about the fact that I find it so hard to ask for help and to admit that I'm wrong. I'm can't be perfectly perfect - so why am I under the illusion that I must be?
I don't want to think about the fact that I find it harder and harder to write a blog. Every post has to better than the last. And if it's not - don't post it. I write and let it sit in the "Drafts" folder and never open it again.
I don't want to think about how I have that cliche tendency that girls have that wants the people who love her to fight for her. That's right, as grossingly pathetic that sounds, I want those who care about me to fight for me - usually meaning they'd have to fight me and what I say. Is that selfish? I have a feeling it is. And yet...
I don't want to think about any of this. I just want to sleep. And by flushing these out of my brain, I'll be able to now.