11:12, 5%, on a school night

Have you ever gotten really excited about a project and then realized your laptop's at eight percent? Cleaned your entire room so you can comfortably set into some productivity and then noticed it was time to go to bed?

I feel like there are errant little thoughts that skirt on the edges of my brain, and every time I catch one their glint from far away turns out to be more like the dull shine of lead.

Did you know that lead is naturally very sweet? I've never tasted it myself, at least to my knowledge, but apparently ancient Romans used to put it in their wine to make it sweeter. They called it sapa.

That sounds like something we'd eat today. Maybe with hummus and cheese and berries. Like pretzels or something.

My lamp shade is red. My favorite number is seven (because I'm basic and superstitious like that). Most of the posters on my walls are just ads I've ripped out from magazines.

Does all this collective self-reflection, introspection, intelligence, and personality make me appealing to a college? Probably not. A university's not interested in my ability to compare lead acetate to pretzels or the fact that I like to write my thoughts into a brown paper bag that I subsequently throw at the Internet, only for a few splashes to dot the dapper clothes of whoever happens to be drifting by. Hello Drifters! I'm gonna write some fan fiction instead. At least there my thoughts are far less jumbled.