well here I am in the same predicament. it's interesting how life tends to repeat itself so much. I don't like hearing music while I work. it get's annoying. but allanis morisette is okay. at least she puts some intelligence in her music. but music is distracting. I have a hard enough time sorting out all of the conflicting thoughts and emotions in my head as it is. I don't need music in there screwing things up while I'm trying to work. some people like listening to music while they work. perhaps they just don't have as much running through their minds as I do. I keep thinking of a million things all at once -- a million things that I neeed or want or should do. but will I ever get to them?  sometimes I think I will never be bored. I would love that sensation. to be bored. to think, "hey, I have nothing better to be doing right now than just sitting around. "  that would be so wonderful. but perhaps it is impossible for me. perhaps I will always find something to do. there is never going to be a time that I am devoid of all interest, all motivation, all desire to do SOMETHING that my mind tells me should be done. even if I had no school work, even if I finally unpacked all the crap in my room left over from the move. even if there was no one left to email, write, or call. even if all that happened, which it never will, then I'd need to finally get started on one of my many self-initiated "projects. "  to learn more about religion -- especially mine. to teach myself how to play the piano, and the guitar, and the violin. to understand women. ha. I'd never finish that project. so perhaps my life consists of perpetual preoccupation. this is a stream of consciousness. I'm supposed to transcribe the thoughts as they run through my head. how is that possible?  that's like trying to describe what happens on each roadway in america all at once. there are too many streamS of consciousness. there isn't just a singular stream. I could talk about the countless thoughts of how busy I am, how stressed my life is right now. I could speak of my love interests, my friends, my relationships with others past and present. I could speak of the things I want in life -- the never ending flow of "man I want to do that someday"s. I could gripe. I could gripe about anything and everything. I could turn philosophical. I could question. I could write my stream of consciousness about me thinking of any one of these things. yet I am thinking of them all at once. so how do I transcribe that?  and then I look at the clock. ten minutes gone by. I have just put into words a small part of ten minutes of my thoughts. it's interesting how I love to write. it's such a peculiarly interesting thing. I wish I had written more as a kid. I wish I had kept a journal. I did for a while. it's amazing to see you misspell simple words, write so stiffly that the page seems like stone. but still, it's you. it's how you were long ago and how you have changed to what you are now. one excerpt of time. what piece of time. on paper. people talk of time machines, yet we all know they are physically impossible. the closest we will ever get is a little journal and the words that describe what the pen felt from the emotions of the heart. but back to time. I can never stay on one subject in my mind for very long. perhaps that's why I find it hard to sit still for long amounts of time and read. I wish I had more time. I wish I could make everyone happy. I think I could if I had the time. I'm trying to finish my reading. but my friend wants to go out. hell, it's 11:30 at night, and I wanted to get up at a decent time tomorrow. I never get anything done it seems when I start my day at three in the afternoon. but he wants to go out. I guess I should; it's saturday night. but hell, I went out every night this week it seems. why should I go out this night as well just because it's saturday. I should stay and work. I guess it's good though that he asked me to go out and I said yes. if I hadn't of been waiting for him, then I wouldn't have thought right now of the fact that I need to finish this writing assignment.  argh!  I can't stand not to proofread things. I'm such a perfectionist. I had to make sure that word was spelled right. I can't allow myself to not proofread something. even though it seems that's part of the point of this assignment -- to not look back and simply type. that's near impossible for grammar nuts, it's a sin. but I guess I will force myself to hit that submit button in about one minute when my twenty minutes are up. crap!  that sentence ended on a preposition. again, these things just can't happen with my writing. but I will rebel; I will leave it be. I will just accept things for what they are and move on. (another preposition)  perhaps I should act my life out that way. just let things be, accept them as they are, go with the flow, man. maybe if I didn't worry so much things would be much easier. I stopped worrying about the music and it didn't bother me until I thought about it again. I guess I should relax in life. I guess I should go out and have fun and forget about staying in and getting caught up on my work. I guess I shouldn't proofread this. I guess I should just hit that submit button.