In The Absence Of Tea

Currently, as I stand before you (or rather sit before not you particularly but my own computer screen, directly relaying my thoughts onto yours), the time is 5:23am and I have resorted to waiting until well after 7:00am so that I may pop outside and purchase milk. For you see, I've been craving a cup of tea for nigh on 12 hours now and have unfortunately been without milk, thus rendering my tea making (and drinking) privileges somewhat restricted. Of course when I say "somewhat" restricted, I mean extremely restricted through the fact that I, as before mentioned (...twice), have no milk.

In the absence of tea, my throat and my brain have endured trials beyond any human recognition over the course of the evening... or very early morning, whichever way you want to look at it. First came the X Factor. The god-awful definition of contrived manipulated shite, televised for "entertainment purposes". Actually, I'm not denying that the X Factor is entertaining, for I ended up finding myself laughing all the way through it, despite it being on in the background and my main focus being scouring the Internet in search of others mocking the X Factor whilst also having it on in the background themselves. Possibly not the intended "entertainment" goal of the money-grabbing fuck-tards behind the whole thing, but then again I'm a poor student who already spends £145.50 a year for actually being able to have a television on in the background I feel compelled to not throw more money at people who, quite frankly, have enough that they alone could probably cancel Africa's debt and then take them all out for a nice, big, slap-up meal somewhere. Probably Nando's.

Later on during the evening/night/morning/day/ongoing passage of time, I managed to get fixed the problem of the uncooperative computer components that had plagued my video capturing needs, which I only discovered this time last week as I attempted to capture video for the first time in ages. I'm not sure if I mentioned it on here, or if it was on the Facebook page (or both, for that matter), but now that the mediocre crisis has been averted, I feel able to get videoing something soon especially after the onslaught of newer and amazinger ideas that have attacked my being and existence of late. Although don't hold me to that. You know how unreliable I can be. In the great struggle between doing something that's actually good and may have some relevance to my course, personal works, broadening my mind, and mediocre entertainment for anyone, anywhere, at any time (if they just so happen to stumble across something of mine, that is) versus procrastination, Procrastination might just as well be a named character, complete with capitalisation, and dancing around wearing a funny hat, dressed in bright colours and generally vomiting rainbows every seven seconds, appealing to my inner-two-year-old. Incidentally, there's an idea for an actual character in a novel or short piece of fiction if I ever do get round to doing one, which - given the content - might go a little something like this:

"The man in the tall funny hat was accompanied by sparks, whizzing and wheezing all around him. He did a jaunty little jig for hours on end and always demanded attention; a grown-up form of an attention-seeking baby. His name was Procratination. And he... did... something, probably. Erm, SHIT! Wow! I started writing this like seven hours ago and totally forgot about it lol, ah well. Erm... story, story, story... oooh, I know. Procrastination demanded that he be noticed and... then somethi- OH FUCK IT! I can't be arsed now anyway..."

As I sit here, sipping raspberry tea with honey in it, because my throats decided to hate me due to lack of normal tea (probably) or coldness of December (just as probably), I can't help but feel like procrastinating. Then again, having said that, it is now currently 5:57am meaning I have literally just over an hour of time-wastage left before milk-getting, thus having used up over half an hour of my life on this thing, incidentally for the purposes of procrastination.

Also I wanted to update on the video situation. But mostly it was the procrastination.

Hey! Poetry! There's another avenue...

There once was a man named Procrastination
Who was in a peculiar situation
He danced a wee jig
Then snapped like a twig
Because he's not fucking real, you idiot. It's a metaphor for my own brain's default setting being "wandering mode".....-ation

TEA UPDATE: It is now 8:56am and I have tea.