Banging...headache

“Turn my headphones up, louder”- Gotta Have It.

I am about 1,100 words into my essay and I have stopped. The thought of going to the library did cross my mind. Instead I am in my room, with a banging headache, curtains drawn and my hoodie providing warmth.

I can hear banging.

It’s 15:58pm and I am sat here starring at my Daily Milk Fruit and Nut like, “hold tight, let’s do this.”

I only hope that this essay gets done. Like, can I please bag a first for this essay? I’m even putting my phone on aeroplane mode, stunting like my phone is always popping off.

I think I just heard a sound…through my headphones. Kendrick kissing my eardrum tender with Babylon.

Hmm, yeah my thoughts are bit fragmented. I’m kind of ready to punch someone in the throat, but have no energy left in me at the same time. I kind of wish I was high on a field of daisy’s somewhere north but then I also wish I could sleep this headache away too.

The Birth of Venus- Sandro Botticelli, I love it.

Yeah, I can hear banging.

Well, erm yeah at the minute in my essay I’m arguing that audiences DO have power over programmes. It sounds bizarre, but I totally think, if it wasn’t for an audience then why create the television in the first place?

I can still hear banging.

Like, if everyone was into monogamous relationships, Fifty Shades of Grey would have no purpose as a book, let alone a film.

I should really be adding words to my essay, instead I’m here listening to SZA with a burning desire to rip my headphones apart but that would leave me in a very …awkward… position.

I can hear banging.

The only thing making me scream right now is word counts. It’s a love hate relationship, I actually love learning new theories and writing about them but I simply can’t hear myself right now.

Does anyone want to send me a nude? I want to …draw.