Goodnight

My brain hurts and I'm dead inside.

ugh

Ugggghhh I have a ridiculous headache and ugggggggggggggh I don't wanna study/do work and ugggggggggh I'm sleep deprived and uggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

12/16/14

Today consisted of "reviewing" for our exams in school, which was essentially meaningless. The only class where it somewhat counted was my AP Bio class, but even then the reviewing wasn't going so hot for me. Of the exams I'm worried about, I'm most concerned with Bio since it's my worst class (yet somehow still my favorite). After that, it goes AP Stats, AP Literature, Honors Gov, Economics, then Religion. Tomorrow, I have my Stats, Lit, and Religion exams. Just thinking about all of the writing I'm going to have to do makes my hand cramp up. I've done a ridiculous amount of writing this week already with my two in-class essays in Lit and rewriting my AP Bio test essays to study from. My right arm is significantly stronger than my left just because of the writing I have to do!

Today for Lit we completed the poetry analysis portion of our exam.I felt like I had lucked out since I was familiar with one of the two poems on the prompt, as it's one of my favorite poems. Last year Andy sent it to me because he had read it in English and it made him think of me. The poems were fairly simple in and of themselves, but as soon as I tried to put my thoughts into words it came out as something along the lines of "hurr durr dur derp herp derp derp herp herp derp herp derp hurrrrrrr durrr duuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

Here is that first poem, the Keats poem:

WHEN I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high pil`d books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,	5
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And feel that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!
That I shall never look upon thee more,	10
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.