Span of Attent... Ooh! A Bird!

A speck of paint on my thumb. A small blemish on the nail. Turn it over. The print that once could be argued to define me is artifically blackened by the stuff.

The xbox is running. I’m halfway through a mission. People need to be shot. But I have to do whatever I feel like doing. That’s what save games are for.

This is where I took a break from writing to refresh some tabs and play a few games of minesweeper. There are about ten tabs opened in the browser, as well as games of solitaire and spider open.

Glancing at my bed. A book. Open, turned face down to hold the page. I’ll finish the chapter later.

Some might say I lack commitment. I have a short attention span. Maybe I’ll never get anywhere in life. All they see is black. But turn it over. The black is but one small blemish. Surely it just makes it a greater testament to my natural intelligence that I got mostly A*s on my GCSEs? That I haven’t slipped below an A this year?

Look at it from the other side. You might see something different.

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