The intellectual self is in a constant war with the instinctual self.
This conflict is fucking annoying, quite frankly.
Gets worse when the little nagging voice wants to chime in. The one that says you're a lazy bum because you've taken a half hour break. Or the one that says you are useless and can't amount to anything. Despite having checked off a good chunk of your to-do list. But the fact that it wasn't anything BIG or SPECIAL means that you might as well have done nothing at all.
The knives all look so pretty. They would even look better stuck in something. Something soft and warm.
Ah, but these are thoughts best kept in the head. Wouldn't want anyone to know that you aren't the innocent angel you seem to be. Everyone thinks you are such a nice girl, with you're quiet demeanor. They even find your social awkwardness cute. While they go on and on about the inane gossip of the day you thank whatever deity is responsible that they don't realize you have a constant play going on inside your head where there is a sly smile and blood everywhere.
Up and down, round and round.
There's a story to be had somewhere.
I like this.
And, I relate.