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I 'm Waiting For Inspiration For A Large Part Of My Grade

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2:00 A.M. finds me in front of my run down glowing laptop screen yet again. I’m waiting for inspiration for a large-part-of-my-grade essay. My parents, who don’t know that I am still up at this unforsaken hour, are asleep in their beds just feet away from my room, sleeping away to the daylight: they don’t wait for the final moment to get stuff done. I take huge chugs of Mountain Dew Baja Blast mixed with Red Bull from a paper cup; it’s the sweet nectar from the Gods of Procrastination Paper Writing. Baja Bull, as I called it, made a sweet taste of sourness in my mouth and the smell of straight up sugar in my nose after one quick slurp from the cup. No, make that the super sweet nectar of the Gods of Diabetes, Heart Disease, and Liver Disease all in one drink. That drink reminds me that I’ve sentenced my poor hopeless self to another unnecessary all-nighter. I have some ideas but lesser time like a dying man in the hospital. Procrastination kills people without anyone knowing it, sneaking up on you with you never knowing it. It kills people unknowingly willingly and physically with a dash of mentally. The blinking laptop screen cursor on an empty Word document was the high school version of death in your eyes. My parents would scold me how technology wasn’t there for them when they were in high school so I should feel lucky, yet I don’t. To me I feel like it makes it worst. However, for me it was, in many odd ways, the same old problem. With very early drafts of my paper

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