I’m meant to be revising for mocks right now, and as such am in the library “working”. In this case, working means rotating agitatedly between maths, physics, random obsessiveness (seriously, you do not want to see in my mind at the moment (think films, books, actors (so many actors (did you know the relative attractiveness of any given actor increases by 100% when you find out that they can sing? (I’m not looking at anyone in particular *cough* George Blagden *cough*))) and the occasional piece of music)), as well as the poem which I stupidly decided to write. This poem, in fact, is the main problem. Whether as a result of reading too much “literature”, my brief stint as an English student, or simply because I’m losing it, I have switched into my “is this an actual thing, or just a badly written thinly veiled sexual innuendo?” mode. While writing a poem. It is not pleasant.

(Of course it’s 90% my fault for deciding to write about writing a letter from the paper’s point of view. I can’t decide whether it sounds like a murder or a sexual encounter. It certainly doesn’t sound like someone writing a letter (insert heavily exaggerated eye rolling here). And let’s not forget that I’m writing it so that each stanza has one less line than the one before because I got it in my head that that was a good idea).

In other news: If I am no longer an English student, am I allowed to enter a poetry competition advertised solely by the English department, whose entry requirements include my teacher’s contact details? If yes, what the hell do I do? Because that is not a question I particularly want to have to ask.