Sorry it's been so long blah terribly sorry blee. I need to get these thoughts down pronto an' I don't got no time for proper grammar, darnit!

Okay, so what was it I needed to get down? Oh yes: the theory of how I think. It goes something like this.

As you know, I have had coursework. You may be surprising to learn that I still have coursework, unless of course you're one of my tutors. Just on the complete offchance that Mr Terry Cook reads this: why oh why did you have to put your faith in me?

In any case, I think I may have finally worked out exactly why it is that I find it so difficult to buckle down to coursework. The reason? Emotion. Namely, I have too much of it. I've devoted myself so entirely to feeling lately that, when I have to do something which requires a lack thereof, it has become harder to do... and guess which task in particular requires that lack? That's right - College work.

You see, all my emotions are tangled up together in one huge ball of emotion-yarn. I've tried balancing out my emotions and making myself happy and forcing myself to feel productive and all that crud, but the thing is it don't work. All the emotions are tied together, 'cuz to untangle that big ball o' yarn would mean untangling me, which I don't plan on doing anytime soon.

Normally this isn't a problem 'cuz I'm very self-confident (yah right), but when it comes to coursework I have a whole boatload of fear (read: GUILT) attached to it. Why's that? Because I've put it off so long. I think you can see how it's becoming a vicious circle, huh?

However, all hope is not lost. Granted, I spent the last few days of College this last term in relative Hell (it wasn't actual Hell or even all that bad Hell - it was just Hell from where I happened to be at the time), but now that the holidays have come I'm using all my time away from my tutors (read: GUILT-TRIP INDUCERS) to try and foster a positive attitude and...

Wait. I said that doesn't work, didn't I? Damn, I need to stop writing these things at unearthly hours of the morning... oh yes! Yes, here's the scheme: today, I managed to get quite a bit of coursework done. Admittedly I didn't finish any today and didn't reach the target I set myself because it turned out that the work I'd done before was absolute crap and needed to be redone (it's difficult being a perfectionist), but I got it to a point where I could springboard into finishing it after another good day's work. And how?

Well, it's all thanks to my saviour in more ways that one: Hayao Miyazaki, head of Studio Ghibli (a producer I'm doing my Media coursework on, BTW). You see, I could feel myself starting to slide down that slippery slope of paralysing fear once more (seriously, it's like mind-ice or something), so I quickly put something on to distract myself. When I realised that I couldn't actually wear the DVD, I decided to put it on - sorry, in the TV instead. It was Grave of the Fireflies. I'd bought it a while ago in my quest to watch every single Ghibli feature ever made, and guess what? Halfway through, I felt good enough to return to my work and did a good chunk of it.

It worked for a very simple reason. Those who know of classical tragedy and catharsis and all that jazz will be familiar with the idea of purging one's emotions through expression of fear and pity for some perceived character. Well, Grave of the Fireflies did just that - and quite beautifully, I might add. I was moved to my core. Instead of balancing my ball of emotion-yarn, it threw the whole lot out the window so I could work with a mind blissfully emptied of all other things. It was like waking up whilst still awake.

The only problem is, emotions don't stop being generated by my busy little mind just because I've purged them once. A couple of hours afterwards I was all guilted-up again, so I watched the rest of Fireflies and, once more, it worked like a charm. But, inevitably, the same thing happened, and this time I had no more Fireflies left to watch. I'm afraid I'm gonna haveta root through the rest o' ma DVDs to find some tragic-type stuff... real tearjerker things, you know...

Oh - and if I never manage to post again, it's probably because Mr Cook has murdered me in a fit of apoplectic 'WTF is WRONG with you?!' 'not-finishing-coursework' rage. (Seriously. He scary. He don't even have to shout to be scary. Imagine what he must be like when he does shout. O.O)