The next day.

My journey of writing such an absurd and never heard of story continues today, while my eyes sting and my throat hurts.

Today was my PTM meeting. As expected, I didn't end up doing that good. My mother and I ended up having a bit of a cry and a screaming match.

I decide that the only way to get my nerves back in order is to go on to my computer and write something.

I open this word processor. I look around my house and think about what I should write. I see my brother practicing Chemistry in the living room. I look out the window and see a few cows grazing in the field behind my house. I see my mother enter her bedroom and close the door. Then the answer to my question hits me.

Duh, I tell myself. This story is about how you wrote it. So write about how you're writing it right now. And why.

So I write what is written so far and close the processor. I open it again after a few seconds. I look back at what I have just written.

I open a new tab, and start going on Facebook, stupidly wondering what I should write next. After a spot of Farmville and a small chat with a friend, I look at my pictures. I comment on every single one out of sheer boredom. I stalk my crush and comment on every single photo of his. An hour later, the answer hits me again.

I should just write what I am doing now. This is how I'm writing this.

I write what I have just written, and decide that what ever I can write more currently would be too monotonous, since I would be doing the same things. I stop for now.

The End

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