Big Trouble in Little Brain

yeah that last one didn't age good

The time is four, ante meridiem.

I am participating in my favorite hobby: procrastinating on my website and other hobbies that I enjoy while simulatenously procrastinating on other, more important things that I enjoy marginally less. Like the final assignments of my equally-as-final high school classes. Surely they will be understanding of my habits.

Quite recently, a thought popped betwixt mine ears. "do a website," it said. "it be cool." So I did. I perused the sublime texts of enlightenment, seeking both inspiration and true knowledge. Unfortunately, I am not very good at managing my time, and so, after mere days, I had to put my website on the backburner because of how long it took me to update each time.

Despite this, though, the illusory promise of personal satisfaction from major updates latched onto my mind as though it were my toddler self onto an unsecured bottle of chemicals under the kitchen sink. "But wait," I cried, "what of Comics and all that other cool stuff that I like to do?" Why do I ask that to myself, you may ask to myself? Why do I question my own goals, what I may have to change, aloud? Am I, perhaps, bananas? The answer is no, I'm allergic to bananas. It's just that for some reason I like to have pointless dialogues with myself that end in already-foregone conclusions.

I still pretty much rewrote the whole website though.

As I am writing this, I begin to realize—I have the bluelight filter in my settings turned on.

This website is probably bright as hell. I should fix that when I wake up.