Romance - Maybe, Perhaps, Once Was A Story

Ritalin

Web MD really socked it to me today, while I was searching Chrome. I was on edge, on the edge of my seat, soaking into white my white orbs the exposé of the drug that soaks in all the molecules that soak in all your dopamine. Huh? I know.

"A research team led by Nora Volkow, MD, head of Brookhaven's biology and medical departments, finds that the brains of have too little dopamine, a chemical needed for several vital functions. Why? It's because the children's brains have too many molecules that suck up dopamine before it does its thing. Ritalin gums up these molecules, so they leave the dopamine alone.

'Dopamine is not only involved with movement and attention but with reward and motivation -- it modulates signals that say, This is important! Pay attention! Volkow says. 'So we think Ritalin highlights the task the child is doing. If you are bored, I cannot get your attention. But if you are interested, I can. Ritalin is in this way improving the performance of the child.'" So says Web MD. Thanks for that courteous explanation for my whole life.

I sat here thinking I was depressed, but no. I just simply had a small motivation gauge. Everything that motivates you does not motivate me. No I'm not a weird human; no, I'm not depressed. I just have inhibited dopamine reactions. That shit (dopamine) doesn't do shit for me...unless I get more and more.

Shit! - I just scratched myself with the point of my 'knifely' pencil. I mean...I had to get it sharpened for this Design Geometry class. But I'm surprised I didn't poke myself with the compass this time. For some reason though, lead hurts more than sharpened metal.

I glanced over again, with a white flag of surrender, at his chiseled face (topped with dark f-boy-esque locks) pointed downwards at stark white computer paper, his hand lackadaisically laid over the corner of the wibbly desk - the "weak wobbly" desk. It wouldn't mean a thing were I to develop feelings for him, because I met a guy that went out of his way to meet me, yesterday, and I'm in love.

Haha. No. I didn't say that last three words.

And I'm interested in seeing how much this dude actually cares about me. I haven't had that much enthusiasm in a while....then again, I actually haven't been looking for a boyfriend until..........senior year. Like, the end of it. Like, the very end of it. That's how long I've been single, that's how long I've never had a boyfriend. Pre-senior year. Count it...8 years of grade school and four years of high school. Yep. Don't forget preschool.

I shake my head so my thoughts STOP TAKING OVER! what I'm supposed to be drawing. This is the last construction in class and all I really want is to talk to that dude. Why does he seem so freaking distant? Why does he...he...he fucking laughed, oh my gosh! That's amazing. He laughs? He may not be so distant after all - but he laughed (though miraculous - based off my perception of him) after a joke the teacher told, which I didn't hear -

I must be distant.

I ended up sticking the pencil so far into the paper, upon my contemplation, that it grew an acute hole. I removed my pencil and huffed because I did not really want to focus on this construction...I had so many thoughts running through my head right now.

Riddlain, I really need some Riddalin. Fuck, it's spelled Ritalin. I need it now...since I heard, today, it would help me. It would give me the dopamine I need, so everything feels rewarding, so everything feels great, not these goddamned boys.

I won't fantasize over boys that aren't mine (yet) if I have it.

I won't dream of fictional characters I created in class.

My conscious won't take his gendered but sexless place in the desk asides me if I intake that drug. In fact, we'd finally merge, and I'd truly be agender - and that conviction wouldn't take up half of my conflicted about it for some reason conscious.

If...I...do...this...I...I go to the bathroom.

"Fuck."

And start to sing. It really puts me at equilibrium. "You're my heroine!" Silverstein. "I take Novocaine, it runs through my veins, I don't know how to love or how to feel..." Fit for Rivals.

"I fucking can't think of anything other than drugs," I grumble underneath my breath.

And if I think of anything to sing but drugs, I'm sure my heart would break.

A/N: It could be edited better, especially if anything is unsure. And I wrote this while procrastinating and unable to focus on a homework assignment that I actually was working on but then I needed a break from. I need Ritalin much? I sure and heck thought so...and here's the byproduct.

Thanks much and goodday! Be happy your mind isn't consistently clawing at you. O.O And if it is...join the club....