Trill

   As this year winds down, my work ethic does too. Pages become paragraphs, paragraphs become sentences, sentences become words. Eventually, hours of work produce nothing more than passing thoughts, vanishing before I can conjure up the effort to write them down.
   The sun becomes a drug stronger than any other and its sedating yet uplifting properties keep me in a state of euphoric laziness. Work can wait another minute in exchange for lounging in the bright outdoors. Or another hour. A paper overdue is now a paper impossible. Clammy fingertips are just another reason to stay away from uncomfortable keys.
   When heading to class, a room with windows seems ideal until five minutes of class pass. My eyes continually drift back to the windows and the golden sunlight is simply a tease. I try to look away but like little black magnets my pupils are always drawn back to the image between the metal window frames. This magnetism is stifling; sometimes I even want to write something or have serious interest in a discussion, but my uncontrollable urge to look away puts me in a state of unconscious observation. It's more than just zoning out or daydreaming. I can't tell if there are no thoughts going through me or if there are too many to recognize a single one. Either way, classes go by without me being present.
   I find it slightly amusing during the point in my high school career in which I have the least motivation, I am making the largest and probably most significant step in my lifetime so far. I suppose it's the same for many of us. And we are not to blame. I point my finger at the time, weather, and the place we live. There is no longer much reason to overload ourselves with school work, there is fresh green grass to be sat on, cold rivers to be jumped in, and warm sun to be absorbed.
   To put it simply, I'm not doing too well in regard to school work.