Men Die Under the Mountain Just Lookin for Gold, Some Die Lookin For a Hand to Hold.

I am aware of the fact that this is a complete waste of time.  That it is of interest to no one (almost including myself, if that makes sense) and that I should certainly be working on homework.  I am also aware that it is hot in this room.  Much hotter than necessary, however I suppose it is always hot where I choose to reside.  Or else, my body temperature is completely off the charts (I suspect that I am prematurely going through menopause).  Anyway, I had to make it clear my feelings at the time because I have no one to tell  (perhaps because I chose not to tell people things unnecessary of telling unless I find it hilarious or relevant).  Right now, I am completely in love/hate with school.  Ringing my own neck with projects and yet excited for the outcome.  And all this time I love being busy, but hate that my inner monologue is rapidly disappearing.  I had slightly overdeveloped my self awareness during the idleness of summer, and now that I lack the time to sit, think, and draw (out of leisure) I certainly miss it.  I don't have time to think for no reason, and no matter whether that is a good or bad thing, I miss it.  I thrive off of being alone but feel as if my work is interfering with my alone time (on the account of non-peaceful thoughts that accompany me while I work).  Now, I understand that One needs work, preoccupation, thought with a specific purpose.  I think the only idea I am trying to communicate here is that I haven't looked at the planes as I did a couple months ago with awe of their gracefulness.  I have no purposeless thoughts at all.  However, I suppose this is it.  This is my small chance to unleash those once again, and here I go with it, running as I always do.  I guess I found the time after all.  Anyway, listen.