Social Obligations

Yes, it's my birthday today. We're supposed to go out for dinner, it's 6pm, and Mum still hasn't returned home. I'm determined to have a pleasant evening--- my day has been far too joyous for it to be ruined now.

What is troubling me, however, is the fact that we've yet to leave the house, yet my over-enthusiastic roommate seems to have prepared some sort of birthday-surprise for me: at 7.30pm. Except this "surprise" has turned out to be a colossal failure.

So apparently, he invited a bunch of my friends to badminton... You know, that's fine and all. Except it's TONIGHT. WHEN I HAVE TO GO OUT TO DINNER WITH MY PARENTS. So yesterday he kept on nagging me to go to badminton, and I tried to brush it off--- and he wouldn't let it go. As it turns out, it was meant to be a birthday surprise--- and that sorta failed because at school people said to me, "OH I'M SORRY I CAN'T MAKE IT TO YOUR BADMINTON THING TONIGHT." Whilst keeping a calm expression and saying "that's okay", I burn on the inside, thinking, "WHAT BADMINTON THING. OH HOLY SHIT."

Then I spent the rest of the day burning down with stress, worrying about the dinner and worrying about getting to badminton.

Then Dad, being the inconsiderate jerk he is, complained about me being too troublesome and grumbled about the prospect of dinner and badminton.
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10.13pm

So, I survived dinner at made it to badminton at around 8.15pm. I think I disappointed Mum a little, because my happy expression was rather forced at dinner. I couldn't help it. She kept on telling me that I could choose the restaurant, except I had no idea, because the last time we went to a restaurant was roughly 2 years ago. So we ended up at the same one as before, because I could name nothing else, and then I had to order. Oh the pain. I made some pretty bad choices--- and as a result, nobody ate much of a particular dish. Dad looked at me disapprovingly, letting me know that I was wasting money, whilst Mum kept on telling me that it was okay. That did nothing.

Then we waited for my baby sister to finish eating, and I sat there playing on my phone, because I had nothing to say to anybody. Dad then started lecturing me, ON MY FUCKING 18TH, about how I should get up earlier in the morning to avoid traffic. "YOU NEED TO HURRY UP, EVEN 5MIN MAKES A DIFFERENCE. WHY CAN'T YOU JUST GET UP A BIT EARLIER, AND NOT SLEEP IN. I WAKE AT 6AM EVERY MORNING. YOU SLEEP AT 1AM 2AM EVERY NIGHT."

...I sleep at 1am 2am because of insomnia and work, bitch.

After he finished lecturing, Mum went and paid for dinner--- and I would have raged if they asked me to pay. Whilst Mum was gone, Dad said something like, "so expensive" and commented, "if it costs more than $100..." Then he kinda trailed off... I don't know what he's implying, but it could not have been nice.

So after we left the restaurant, I went to badminton with a grumpy mood--- which wasn't fair to my friends, who tried their best to surprise me. My roommate brought candles, a cake--- everything. Now I feel so immensely guilty. Happy birthday was sung, and I was generally cheery. Then they tried to get me to play badminton, but after dinner and cake, I seriously did not feel like exercise. I was BLOATED. As a result I was dejected for most of the night, feeling conflicted about whether I should try and play or whether I should just tell them I give up. Yet they tried so hard to make me happy...and now I feel like an asshole. Eh, it couldn't be helped.

This is easily the most stressful birthday I've ever had.
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I did, however, receive some very, very awesome presents. My best friend basically loaded me with them--- yup, I received more than one present from the same person. I feel more spoilt than that fat kid in the first movie of Harry Potter.

Well, I better thank my roommate properly tomorrow. Thank him for trying, anyway. Show some gratitude to people who try to make me happy. Then I'll probably go around showing off all my presents.

...It's nice being 18.

The Dread of Inevitability

As it turns out, the family dinner tomorrow is inevitable. When I younger I used to be overjoyed by the prospect of eating at a restaurant- I guess I loved restaurant food. Nowadays, everything seems to taste average, and my appetite has not been raised in a loooong while. So going to a restaurant actually means nothing to me, and going to a restaurant with my parents is just another expression for devastation.

I can only imagine the awkward tension as we eat in silence--- maybe my baby sister will cry and scream, then Mum will try to shut her up. Or maybe Dad wouldn't shut up and make a fool of himself in public. Maybe I'm just the biggest pessimist on this planet, but I seriously cannot even imagine having a good night.

Oh, not to mention how I'm not going to get a present from them. Maybe the dinner is  the present--- but I'd rather not go... so that's a bit of a fail. Tomorrow isn't even a good day--- I have chemistry in the morning--- which I find boring, then I have 2 hours of free time, which I should probably use to catch up on maths-- unless I want to start on my maths homework right about... now. Then in the afternoon I have psychology, and whilst I find the subject interesting, I seem to bore myself to death in that class. I don't even know why. The teacher's nice, knowledgeable, and expresses himself clearly. He's actually an excellent teacher. Yet he somehow bores me. It makes no sense. How do I bore myself, when I find the topic interesting and the speaker expressive?

My attention span is shorter than ---- I don't even know what. I was about the say goldfish, but then I figured I'm much more attractive than a goldfish, so I didn't want to make that comparison. Not that attractiveness has anything to do with attention span, but I am wonderfully good-looking.

...Well, I might as well start on maths. I have no better forms of entertainment in a school week...

PARTY PARTY PARTY

Today is a much better day than yesterday. It seems my philosophy has been proven true--- tomorrow is always better than today. I basically had no work- and the only thing I've done which is school-related is practising my English oral, which has been delayed for an entire week. My throat is hoarse after 2 runs--- one was 9 min 30 the other was 11 min 30. My timing's a bit off... yeah. Oh well. I look forward to my 90 or 90+

The reason why today is a better day is because I realised that parties are great. I'm looking at a minimum of 3 parties in the next 30 days... And I'm all like.. taken aback by the sudden appearance of a social life. Holy cow.

Then I realised that I have friends who are going to spoil me rotten. Well, more than I am now. I'd tell, except that'd ruin the surprise. All I can say is that this birthday is going to be awwwwwesome (so much for my gloomy outlook yesterday).

Picture Unrelated

Well, I still don't want to go out with my parents for a birthday-dinner. That's going to be an atrocity no matter how I look at it. I can't turn it down, and I cannot see myself in a position where I'm going to enjoy it. It's so stupid, having a massive argument with Dad, having to arrange everything for my own birthday and then being dragged out by my parents to "celebrate becoming an adult". Well actually it was Mum's proposal, and she had offered to do something for me... Which is the only reason I hadn't made up an excuse about not being able to go out for dinner, due to an unexpected onset of an allergy to everything in every restaurant. Man... if it was Dad... Well actually, Dad wouldn't do something like that.

Tossing aside the ominous thoughts clouding my head... I will be free (for real) after tomorrow, when I finally deliver my oral. Then, it's party time.

My Money

Just talked to Dad. Did not end well.

I told him I needed to recharge my bus-card, because I had like, 1 cent left. He was in my room. "Why don't you pay for yourself," he said, "You have so much money." So I told him I had $600 left in the bank, and I didn't really want to put in $50 to pay for my bus fare. I don't know why, but all of a sudden he became threatening.

"$600? BUT YOU HAD $1000 BEFORE. THAT WAS 3 MONTHS- NO, NOT EVEN 3 MONTHS AGO. WHERE DID ALL YOUR MONEY GO?"
"I don't know... food and stuff?"
"FOOD, AS IF YOU COULD SPEND THAT MUCH ON FOOD. IT'S IMPOSSIBLE. TELL ME, WHAT DID YOU SPEND IT ON?"

Poker, cocaine and a truckload of hookers.

"I didn't spend it on anything big. I don't know where my money went. Food, books, presents for friends..."
"OH YEAH, WELL HOW MANY OF YOUR FRIENDS HAD A BIRTHDAY, HUH? WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME."
"It's $20 for food every time I go out, more if I want to see a movie or something..."
"YOU ARE ABSURD, SPENDING THAT MUCH MONEY. $400! DON'T LOOK AWAY, TELL ME WHERE YOU SPENT IT."

...Well someone obviously doesn't know food prices. I don't enjoy being interrogated about where/ how I spend my own money.

"FINE, I'll pay for my own stupid bus fare. LEAVE, NOW."

Dad stays in my room, staring at my computer screen, refusing to move. I generally feel that my privacy and personal space is invaded when people stare at my computer screen. Moreover, he was  in my room. So me, being the unhappy person that I am, told him to "Get out, NOW."

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And that should have been the end of that. Except when I think about my spending, I don't see why any of it is unjustified. Sometimes I see an expensive book--- if I want it, I get it. That was the whole idea of me getting a job last year. Rather, 2 jobs. I was working 2 jobs with 7 subjects at school. No wonder I failed so badly. I just wanted to not feel like the poor sob I sometimes see myself as. Our family's financial circumstance isn't even bad. Much higher than average, actually. Except I distinguish clearly between my parents' money, and my money. As a result I try to spend as little of their money as possible, and I think of it as a large debt I'm accumulating. Sometimes I dream of throwing them a couple of million dollars and never contacting them again.

So it's quite insulting, when Dad tries to tell me how to spend my money. Mine. The only reason, as I've remembered just know, that I've spent so much, is because I've hardly asked him for ANYTHING. I paid for my own clothing, food, notebooks, pens--- all the common things. He gives me $2 every Thursday to go play badminton. Sometimes I pay for myself. Sometimes I don't even go.

So I ended up paying for my own bus fares, and I don't know whether I'll have to pay for my driving lesson tomorrow. If I have to, I'm cancelling it.

Thinking back... I don't think I'd ever really wanted a job until college. Dad had always wanted me to get a job in high school though, comparing me to all my friends. Then when I finally found one in college, he complained about it taking up too much of my time, and how it detracted from my grades. He kept on telling me to quit, saying that the money isn't worth it, and if I ever need anything, he'll get it for me. Well, it's clear enough that my needs, he can't fulfill--- his behavior disgusts me. That's why I used my money. Because even if I spend a lot, at least it has nothing to do with anyone else.

...Now he's complaining about me spending too much. Not even complaining. Enraged. I'm thinking quite a few rude things in my head. Controlling someone's money against their will is considered a form of domestic abuse, right?

I feel as if I've forgotten how to breathe. My stress level has just peaked, after my exams. Oh, life and its wonders.

Exasperation

The utter agony, when you manage to fail both your exams. I don't know why chemistry tripped me over so badly. IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THAT WAY. Yet that's how it ended, and in the end I don't even know what I did wrong. Stupid-ass questions. Maybe I just didn't do enough worksheets--- OH OF COURSE I DIDN'T DO ENOUGH WORKSHEETS, I BARELY SLEPT 6 HOURS LAST NIGHT. I wonder whether it would have been better, for me to not-sleep and just revise. I would have been fine in statistics, except I had no idea how to perform a chi-squared test. Having people tell me it's easy does not alleviate my pain: it does not matter whether a concept is easy or not, when you have no idea what the fuck it is. The lack of consolidation of concepts just meant that it totally went over my head.

Despite the fact that exams are over, it seems that not a moment's worth of peace is to be had. I'm already 5 exercises behind on a maths test which I've just had--- I don't even know how it happened. Look back, and bam. If I wasn't behind on statistics, I would not have failed so hard on the exam. Knowing that enrages me. Failure was not inevitable, I just didn't try hard enough. ARGH.

On top of that my mother's decided to go all crazy- screaming about stuff I don't even understand. It's all going over my head anyway--- how much I failed everything. Apparently my roommate was being a jerk and left the heater on all day whilst we were at school--- then he set the heater to high so it burnt electricity like crazy. No one would care if he was paying his worth--- except he isn't. He's not getting charged extra for electricity in winter, so Mum's raging about it. Me...? I don't really care. Like, I know we're sorta getting ripped off (because electricity is expensive as fuck, and my roommate uses a fuckload), but is there anything I care about these days? Caring means pain. It's much easier to just let things slide along... and get over it.

I don't even know how I ended up this way. Everything's a giant puddle of confusion, and I just want to go on holidays. I was happy about my upcoming birthday, until I realised it brought more stress than happiness. No, calling up a restaurant  and making bookings is not stressful--- until you realise that you can't afford to pay for everyone you invite and try to make everyone pay for themselves and not-buy you a present. Feels kinda embarrassing to be that poor, actually.

However, it is an easy concept, yeah? EXCEPT THERE'S ALWAYS THE OFF-CHANCE THAT SOMETHING WILL GO WRONG. Oh what am I talking about, something ALWAYS goes wrong. I'm looking forward to that though... it's just... my parents want to spend a night out as well, just as a family. I'm pretty sure I've hit that age where every extra minute with my family is an extra minute of suffering. Oh rebellious teenage years...

...Maybe I shouldn't take the night off and play games. Maybe I should try and keep going with all that work I have, so that this tragedy doesn't befall on me again... I can do maths to take my mind off other troubling things...

...but... SCREW THAT.

Hypothesis Testing

Perhaps the most useful aspect of statistics I will ever use--- too bad I have no idea how to do it. It's an embarrassing confession, that despite 2 weeks in class and a million examples on the whiteboard, I have no idea how to test whether a set of data is statistically significant. Normally I wouldn't worry about it--- if I can't do it, get someone who can do it to do it for me. Too bad that's considered cheating in an exam, though I prefer to think of it as being resourceful.

My exam is less than 24 hours away... and I'm sitting here looking over my notes, thinking, "I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing." Well... that's cool. I guess I'll just fail my exam miserably.

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Ever heard of this thing called "天书" (tian shu)? It's Chinese for heavenly scrolls- these heavenly scrolls are documents, which contain precious information on all worldly knowledge--- basically answers to every question ever asked. The key characteristic of tian shu? It's completely indecipherable.

"That's a pretty cool story," I hear you say, "but what does that have to do with hypothesis testing?"

Well you see, being the clever person I am, I had the foresight to obtain a copy of the solutions to the hypothesis testing problems in my textbook. That way, if I ever get stuck during revision, I could refer to these solutions. The one and only problem with these solutions, however, is that the handwriting looks like a bunch of squiggles. In essence, the maths solutions I have is "tian shu". Has the potential to be useful, yes. Containing all the answers I want, yes. Cannot be interpreted, yes.

So now I'm squinting at the solutions, and my eyes are more Asian than ever. 5 = 0.214? That doesn't make sense, that 5 must be an "s".

Perhaps I should be thankful that these are maths solutions and not a hand-written English essay. Statistics is a unit which is abundant in numbers... at least this isn't some other crazy maths where you use the letters of the alphabet more than you use actual numbers.

...Well, if I thought that way, I'd be an optimist, wouldn't I?

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That overwhelming sense of joy you feel, when your answers, though unlikely, completely matches that of the solutions. Yet the internal voice in my head says, "you admitted yourself that you couldn't read the solutions properly. Maybe you're just getting desperate, and you're hallucinating numbers which matches to what you've worked out yourself."

...Shut up brain, you're such a kill-joy.

If I ever get enough time, I'd like to study the development of internal voices in one's head, how that's related to consciousness--- and more importantly, how to silence that stupid voice.

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 One exercise down... a million more 2 go. The original intention was that I'd do 2 questions from every exercise, so that I'd at least have tried everything... except I can't just move on from an exercise when I try twice, and both my attempts are WRONG. It's rather baffling...

Oh well, the night is long. Though I should probably sleep before an exam...

....And my English oral... is tomorrow, isn't it? FML

My Poor Shark

I don't think it's quite fair to take out my stress on Vincent, but being the wonderfully soft and fluffy shark he is, he makes a perfect replacement for a stress ball. No matter how much I abuse it, it doesn't break or lose its shape.

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So I was revising for chemistry (as you do before a chemistry exam), and then my roommate asks for the nth time to borrow my chemistry notes. NO, YOU CAN'T HAVE THEM, BECAUSE I'M FUCKING REVISING AND I FUCKING NEED MY CHEMISTRY NOTES. AAAARGH. See he asks to borrow my notes quite often, and it never warrants that much rage, except I've had a lousy morning putting up with his friend, and revision itself does not put me into a good mood. It's quite distressing when the content you're only supposed to be "revising" is learnt for the first time. I wonder whether I'll be able to finish my chemistry in one night. Then there's maths. Oh maths. What the fuck am I going to do.

Then Dad was being a twerp, as usual. At dinner he kept on telling me to eat more, and then I told him that no, I didn't want to eat more, because I was full. He shot me a disapproving look, and went on about how I should revise, and asked me what I was studying in chemistry, Way to go Dad, asking me what I'm doing in chem, as my end-of-term tests are approaching. I don't think I replied properly... how does one say "salt hydrolysis" in Chinese, anyway? I barely understood what it meant in English.

Then as I was leaving the dinner table, Dad said, "I think you're getting fatter. All this eating and sitting around is no good for you. You haven't left the house once today."

...I strangled my shark when I got back to my room. The emotion I felt inside me cannot be described with words.

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And I still haven't finished my chemistry revision. This is a baaaad weekend.

How I feel about this world^

Futile Attempts

That utterly frustrating moment when your roommate's friend comes over and your roommate is asleep like  a dead pig. I was in bed at 10.30am, when I was awakened by this phone call from my roommate's friend. "HEY CAN I COME OVER PLZZZZZ I'VE GOT MATHS PROBLEMS I WANNA ASK YOU"
"Uh...yeeah, sure"

What I really wanted to say was "go fuck yourself". Due to my amazing amounts of self-control, I refrained, and as a result he ended up at our door. In hindsight, I probably should've just made up an excuse "oh uh we're going out for today and tomorrow. Yup busy all weekend, sorry." Too bad I was half awake. It's just... the biggest pain ever, having someone over when you plan on revising.Then this guy ended up in my room, asking me the most baffling questions about maths. Except I didn't understand maths myself, so there was no way I could explain it to him properly. Yup, I'm thoroughly screwed for my maths test--- but I'd say that he was waaay more screwed than I am. So he was in my room for a good 2 hours, reading his textbook whilst asking me questions occasionally... questions I couldn't answer anyway. Oh the awkward tension. All this while I was studying for my chemistry exam... seeing as how I have 2 exams on one day, I figured I can at least not-fail one of them.

The only thought going through my head is "eff, eff, efffffff"

Then my parents decided to burden me without household chores--- look after your sister, go take the washing out, oh don't forget to sweep the house. I managed to take the washing out. Screw the house. I don't care if it becomes a dustbin, I don't want to fail my exams. See, I thought they'd forgotten about the fact that I had 2 exams on Monday--- so it was rather insulting when Dad decided to lecture me about how I should go about revising for my exams. "Don't invite your friends over, you have tests on Monday. Look at you, having no self-control." If I had no self-control, I would've broken something, then and there.

Maybe the world is just against me studying for my exams.

2000+ Pageviews

Awww yeah, broke the 2000 mark. I must say that my vanity is deeply gratified. I could become like, famous one day... or infamous. EITHER WAY--- though I no longer feel the DIRE urge to grab attention. Not that I can ever get enough with attention. LOOK---LOOK HERE, LOOK AT ME BITCH. 

Moving on.... My maths exam went reasonably well they other day. I'm supposed to be revising for chemistry--- except I'm not. I said I'd do that last night, and then I wasted it on YouTube. Tonight... it wasn't much different. I moved on from Call Me Maybe parodies to One Direction parodies.

I have to say though... they look just as good (if not better) than the actual One Direction members. And if you disagree... well you must admit that at least these guys are funnier. I don't have much against One Direction though. It's not that bad, but it's nothing great. Well I don't appreciate much non-Asian music. Can't say that I'm unbiased... although I think I'd find their music significantly better if their members looked significantly better. Their music is kiiiiiiiinda catchy. Heh. 

You know what else is catchy though? Music from Korean boy bands. I know that I complained about them... but they have nice bodies. Their music is terrible (yet terribly catchy) and I can't really get over that. I only love them for their bodies anyway. Right now I'm re-addicted to Super Junior. They have some pretty good looking members~

Plastic surgery performs miracles

So yeeah... another evening spent not doing work, and looking at videos/images of attractive men. Long live procrastination~! ...And short-live my attention span. Oh well.

1 down, 2 to go

Two more exams (and maybe an English oral) on Monday, and I'll be freeeeeeee~~! Isn't life wonderful? 

Hint: the correct answer is "No."

I basically have to cram in a term's worth of chemistry into 2 nights, then spend the entire weekend learning statistics. FML. I'm only like, 2 weeks behind in terms of stats course work... It may not sound like much, but catching up all in one weekend is going to be hectic. Then I need to replenish my supply of 2-minute noodles over the weekend- yes, study is less important than 2-minute noodles. See if I didn't study I wouldn't necessarily fail my exam, but if I don't have 2-minute noodles--- well, I'd be without 2-minute noodles. And life without 2-minute noodles is no life at all.

Studying that much might be hard- but being Asian, I'm sure I have it in me. In fact--- I'd have a good portion done by now, IF I WASN'T SO OBSESSED WITH Call Me Maybe PARODIES. 

That one was especially bad, but I laughed all the same. The people who know me think I'm immature. I think of myself as someone young at heart, full of humor and vigor. 

Alrighty, study time.

Back Again

Found 3 sentences of my previous blog post- apparently I'd tried to blog at 4.19am last night. I amaze myself. Anyway, after getting roughly 2 hours of sleep I woke freezing, and I could not feel a thing in my feet. It was dreadful. I must have horrible blood circulation. 

As a result of my lack of sleep, I was wandering the school like a zombie. And it just so happens that my English oral got postponed--- now I'm going on Friday at the earliest, but most likely Monday. WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ALL THIS AGAIN? ARGH. 

So I have a maths exam tomorrow, except I am waaaay too tired to give a fuck right now. I just want to sleep for a bit. Yet foresight tells me that if I don't study tonight, I'm going to hate myself tomorrow, whilst sitting in the exam twiddling my thumb. Life is hard. Making an effort to find compromise between my rational judgement to study and my dire biological need to rest--- I went on YouTube instead.

Now I'm just singing the narwhal song in my head, over and over again. Well, if I can't amuse myself with narwhal songs, what would be the point of life?

What exams?

The awkward moment when you book a driving lesson for Monday morning, COMPLETELY forgetting about the fact that you have exams that morning. Maybe they just don't mean much to me. Maybe that's why I don't remember them. OH WELL.

This is perhaps the least stressful test week I've ever been through. This WHOLE week, I have... one exam. That's a massive improvement compared to last time, where I had 5 exams over the period of 2 days, and then another 2 exams the following week. Now that was bad. This time I have... 3 exams over all. One of them's chemistry- which means I don't need to do much at all. The other 2 are both maths- one of which I'm actually... okay for. A bit of revision and I'll be good to go. As for the other... wellll there's always the weekend. If I can somehow manage to get a good chunk of my English oral done tonight, it may be possible to avoid the all-nighter tomorrow! Isn't that an exciting prospect? Though it may just be wishful thinking on my part.

I've never actually felt that good about test week. Maybe when I get into the actual exams I'll fail miserably, BUT, until then... eh, it's not so bad. I have a practise exam in my hands, so if I can get most of that, I'll be fine on the actual day. It feels unreal- almost unnatural that there is so little stress. It is in moments such as these that I'm glad I chose to do humanities like psychology (selectively forgetting about that recent all-nighter I pulled for psych and my multitude of complaints about it).

I complain? Never. Look, here's a zebra.

Life's pretty good right now. Not much to whine about- except for Dad, who yelled at me today because I was too far behind the other cars and then people started overtaking. Well fuck them, they're the ones doing an 80 in a 60 zone- I was already going at 60km/h. Eh, Dad's just a daily nuisance- my frustration towards him has just become a constant in my life. Nothing to do about it, better move on.

Alright, ENGLISH TIME. I will not pull an all-nighter tomorrow night.

Entranced

Unsurprisingly I find myself on YouTube after a whole afternoon of doing jack all. Browsing through the music section, I found that a new song by Girl's Generation (SNSD) has reached no. 5 in Australia. Surprisingly catchy. One of the things I'd listen to without the music video.

That's actually a compliment. I can't stand most K-Pop. It's like... noise. Sometimes I listen because I find the group members attractive- and then it gets to the point where I mute the music and just watch the video. Some of them I can tolerate- because the people singing are...dashing. Too bad their music sounds crap.

This one, for example.

Anyway, back to SNSD. I haven't paid them much attention since my obsession with Gee and Oh! were over. I know I listened to the songs because I was obsessed with the music video, not because I liked the music. They got pretty annoying pretty quickly. Except I persisted because... well... SNSD members have beautiful legs. Maaan... drool-worthy. Watch the video. It speaks for itself.

After I had somehow gotten over the cute girls with beautiful legs, I'd pretty much forgotten about SNSD. Until today. That music video. BAM obsession re-ignited. I can't like... stop watching. In fact, I'm so obsessed that I have the urge to Google the names of the members. *audience gasps* Yup, that's right, I'm willing to go to the effort of finding out the names of the individual members.

SNSD seem to have lost their "cute girl" look. Now they're just... HAWT. For once... I don't find the music irritating. In fact, I like it. Yup, I said it, I like their music. Beautiful women and good music bundled into one... it's like, paradise.

She's the hottest^

I don't even know her name... but she's the hottest.

Driving III

After escaping from my abduction by the aliens, I went to my 2nd driving lesson. Having ditched my last miserable instructor who talked waaaay too much for my liking, I found that driving wasn't so bad after all. Maybe it wasn't the fact that I hated driving. Maybe I just hated the people I was driving with. Let's see... I've driven with Mum a couple of times, less than 10. The rest with Dad. And by now I'm sure you all know how I feel about Dad. If it weren't for the inseverable family ties between us, I would've committed quite a few violent crimes by now. Then I drove once with my last instructor who talked too much.

"Why isn't there a STFU button in this car?"

Now, the new instructor. He is the ideal driving instructor. I say this with confidence and without any bias- and I am confident that I am unbiased because he wasn't even that good-looking. Not that I'm calling him ugly, I'm just saying that he's not good-looking enough to influence my judgment. I'd also add in that he's like 50 or 60, except age obviously isn't something which stops me from finding a man attractive. Oh well. But you should get the point. Average looking bloke who happens to be the ideal driving instructor.


Why do I say that? Because he didn't talk too much. Not that we were silent the entire lesson, but at least we made casual conversation. In fact he talked non-stop... I wonder why I didn't feel that he had talked to much. OH THAT'S RIGHT, BECAUSE HE DIDN'T PARK THE CAR ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD AND TALK FOR 30MIN LIKE MY LAST INSTRUCTOR DID. He laughed and said that I was getting ripped off. Well I blame Dad for finding a lousy instructor. This instructor, I found myself. Another example of how if you want something done properly and done well, you should just fucking do it yourself.

My hand now smell of soap from holding the driving wheel. Reminds me of how the car smelt... surprisingly pleasant. And it also serves to remind me of how the last instructor's car smelt of sweat, old man and whatever the fuck else there were. Yes, this instructor is infinitely better. What makes him far better than the last? The last instructor had told me to stop driving to school, because it was too hard blah blah blah. This instructor told me that driving practise was good, and he approved of me driving. The best part? He told Dad to stop yelling at me on the way to school.


"If traffic is held up, THEN LET TRAFFIC BE HELD UP," he said to Dad. "Don't rush the kid. Hesitation is good."

Aw man, FINALLY, someone with enough sense to tell Dad off. Then I told Mum that the lesson was really good and the instructor was really good, and Dad was all "whatever" and went back to his computer. *Victory*

As a result, I am now more happy than I should be on this dull, overcast Saturday afternoon.

Revitalized

I did finally sleep last night... And I think I woke at 7am-ish and stayed in bed til 10.30am. There goes my Saturday morning... Well, it is Saturday, right? Apparently I have a maths exam next week... which I'm a little worried for. I have the entire weekend to study, except I have an English oral on Wednesday. Such a bad time slot. It's an English oral on A Fine Balance. Should be fun, talking about that kind of stuff in front of my peers.

I figured that I think more about doing my work than actually doing my work. If I could have actually done my work every time I thought about it, I'd be finished by now. Oh well. At least I don't force people to listen to my complaints about "too much work" whilst not working. I figured that if I have the energy to complain to someone, I might as well do the bloody thing. Sympathy is overrated.

"Well I'm sorry to hear that... uh... but I'll be gaming this weekend?"

And I just realised that I have another driving lesson this afternoon... in fact, in another 15 minutes. Joys. Maybe I should just get it over and done with. Once I get my license no one's going to pester me... I won't have to drive anyway, because we don't have enough cars. It'll be all good... 

Well I better go. You guys keep procrastinating. 

The driving lesson was a lie. BYE.

From Sunset to Sunset

I've been awake ever since... 7am 14th of June. It's now 5.21pm of the 15th of June, and I am literally too tired to do the maths and figure out how many hours I've been up for. Stupid psych report was so much harder than I expected. I almost missed the bus today, because I fell asleep in the morning... then I fell asleep on the bus, and I'm quite certain that I was never awake in chem. It's the most dreadful feeling, when your body rebels against your will and shuts itself down while you're trying to focus in class.

Never again will I harbor romantic ideas about staying up all night. It is simply an exhausting experience. The sunrise wasn't even that pretty. I was sitting in my chair, watching letters appear on my screen as I typed--- until I noticed that the sky was noticeably lighter than it was before. It was a rather pretty ink blue... I wish I had clothes that color. Then I check the time- oh crap, 6am. My first all-nighter, ever. Done for psychology. A subject that's worth piddilidee in my scores... in fact, it won't even be worth anything. I just have to... not fail the subject. Argh, everything's so messed up.

So why am I not asleep, now that I can finally rest without a guilty conscious? BECAUSE I CAN'T. I don't think you can call this insomnia, but I seem to have breached the limits of sleepiness, and I am in this state where I'm beyond tired, and yet I cannot sleep. I am exhausted, but I am not sleepy. Perhaps next moment I will crash to the ground. Hmmm... what a dreadful event to anticipate.

Maybe I should celebrate the first all-nighter I've ever, ever pulled. Sitting in front of my computer, watching sunset. Then sitting there until the sun rises again... and now that I have returned, I once again witness sunset. I only hope that I can sleep past sunrise tomorrow. Stupid winter... it's not even 6pm, and the sun is completely gone. I want daylight again, goddamit. Sunlight is so much nicer than the stupid white light in my room... sure it's bright enough- but it's also the most annoying thing I've ever had.

...Oh great now I'm complaining about my light. Maybe I should just turn off all lights, and sit in the darkness, watching only the screen in front of me. Except my eyes are getting sore. Today is a baaaad day.

...Except it's like, my best friend's birthday. Why is it that such an interesting event should befall on the due date of my psychology report? Ah well, never mind that.

Happy birthday love.

“I am 17 going on 18, I'll~~~ take care~~~ of you."

Between Sleep and Wake

It's the most dreadful feeling. I can't say that I'm usually a patient person, but whilst I was experiencing it, I found anything and everything vastly irritating. It was so painful I wanted to claw my eyes out...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was writing my psychology report... And I was getting somewhere, before my mother came into the room and interrupted me. She wanted me to do her stupid homework for her. Here's context:

One of the main sources of our family disputes comes from Dad being a bitch and looking down on anything to do with physical labor. As a result he rejects all physical activity- yet he wishes to prove his worth as a man. Obviously his standards are a lot different from mine- from what I can tell- him being manly involves him being a dick to everyone around him. Refusal to cook, refusal to do housework, complaining about his workload WHEN HE HAS NO WORK, telling me to manage my time when he is bored, asking me whether I'm under stress- whether I have enough time to do my work- then later on telling me to wash his plates, "instructing" me in his oh-so-fatherly manner about how to do every little fucking thing. The not-cooking and not-cleaning part is tolerable- IF ONLY HE'D SHUT THE FUCK UP. When he isn't occupied he blabbers off with his fat stupid mouth, making thoughtless, ignorant and bigoted remarks.  If there's an absolute level of how annoying a person can be, then I'm sure he has breached it.

Because Dad has a phD in something or rather- maybe he has multiple degrees, I don't know- but he feels superior to Mum because of it. In his quest to illuminate all the "uneducated", he forces Mum to study for a qualification. To someone like me getting a certificate is pretty low-standard, requiring no brains. To Mum, who just isn't the sort to study, it is simply suffering. I know she only agreed to do it because Dad wouldn't shut up... he's so controlling about good-for-nothing and OMFG I'M SO MAD. Ergh.

Mum's given this assignment to fill out- most of it requiring research. Research is pretty standard for our generation. Google. Copy. Paste. Thesaurus. Reference. BAM ASSIGNMENT. Easy stuff. Too bad my mother's computer illiterate. She understands solitaire, minesweeper and bubble-shooter. Ever seen those girls at school, who try very hard at everything, spend ages practising, struggling, stressing and crying over things, then come exam time fails certain subjects anyway? That's Mum for ya. Not saying she's stupid, it's just that all this academic crap stresses her out. Yet Dad holds on to it like a religious fanatic would hold on to the Holy Bible.

Mum asks Dad for help, because she fails at research. Dad, wishing to prove his worth and demonstrate his obvious superiority- summons Google by typing "www.google.com.au" in Chrome. If you use Chrome like I do, I think you understand what I'm alluding to. Whilst Dad has the capability of using Google- it seems that he fails to understand the concept of keywords. Whatever he's doing, he doesn't get himself to the right sites. In his frustration, he gets mad and tells Mum to do her own work. Mum, in her frustration, turns to me and tells me to do her work whilst bitching to me about Dad.

Context over- back to the moment where she interrupts me from report writing. I offer to write for her- but she says it would be too obvious because my handwriting is different from hers. So I have to find the right sites, extract the information, type it up for her and wait for her to copy it down. Doesn't take long for me. Wasn't hard. Was just boring as fuck. The most painful part was waiting for her to copy things down. She writes oh-so-slowly in that neat handwriting of hers. I'm sitting here, tired, weary, on the verge of collapse... struggling to stay awake... and she decides to take a phone call from her friend. Won-der-ful.

BLAH BLAH BLAH

Without surprise, I fall asleep whilst she's away, and I'm woken again by her frantic shouting, looking for me. I'm on the bed, ffs. Apparently she came back from the phone call, saw that the door of my room was open- and OMG I WASN'T SITTING AT THE COMPUTER. That was obviously a sufficient reason for panic. In fact she panicked so much she didn't even bother checking whether I was still in the room, she assumed I'd just gone out--- and I was lying face down on my bed, having dozed off when I had only intended a brief rest. I wake up in a state of confusion- unable to make sense of what was happening- all I could understand was a blur of noise and this annoying light. Oh god the light. There's this stupid white light in my room which I hate because it hurts my eyes... and Mum switches it on every time she comes into my room. She had expected me to continue with her homework, now that I'm "awake" again. I stare blankly at my screen for ages, still trying to make sense of the situation. My head feels a splitting pain, and I am forced to shut one eye as if the Sun were directly above me.

Mum urges me to think, to hurry. I look at the time- almost 2 hours had passed since she'd come into my room. Great, I had wanted to write my report for 2 hours and sleep tonight. GUESS THAT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. Oh the pain of cramming a massive report in one night... That'll be tomorrow. Lord. I can't go on like this. My brain refuses to think. All it responds with is PAIN PAIN PAIN YOU'RE IN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN. Even my brain wouldn't shut up. Great. Fucking wonderful. I guess I must have muttered "fuck" under my breath, because the next second Mum exploded.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT?"
"I didn't say anything," I mumble sheepishly, hoping she'd let it go. It was too much to hope for.
"I HEARD YOU! WHERE DID YOU LEARN LANGUAGE LIKE THAT? DO YOU SPEAK LIKE THAT AT SCHOOL? WHAT IF IT BECOMES A HABIT FOR YOU? SUCH RUDENESS!"


I guess she would have gone on- but honestly I don't remember what she said afterwards. I'm like... experiencing memory loss. Well, you can't remember what you don't pay attention to, I suppose. Where did I learn language like that? Well, I don't know, but I'm quite sure I started saying that since I was 13. 5 years later, I guess I haven't lost my habit of swearing. Oh well. It's comforting to know that my parents think of me so differently.

My head hurts. Hurts like hell. I didn't know being interrupted from sleep could be this painful. Everything feels so... intrusive. My room is so cold. The lights are too bright. The music's too loud. The sound of my internal voice is too loud. If it had stopped talking though, would I be dead? Whilst my rational mind is telling me that dying is bad, I could almost trade for a moment's peace.

Family. People who are only cognitively aware that you are under stress, whilst having no sympathy towards you. People who do not understand the concept of privacy. People who paint their own illusory image of what you do and who you are. People who do not know when to fucking leave you alone.

Oh whoops. Looks like I said the word fuck again. And just then, again. Well, you know what I wanted to respond with?

"Fuck you. Fuck him, fuck her, fuck everyone and everything around me. Fuck my workload, fuck this world, fuck my entire life. Now fucking leave me alone, because I'm going to fucking sleep and you're not going to fucking wake me."

Or I will bite your face off.

Gender Inequality

Having studied a fuckload of feminist texts where GENDER GENDER GENDER AND FEMALE OPPRESSION have been the dominant themes, I must admit that I'm sick of hearing the term "gender inequality". People treat gender inequality as if it were a plague, something to be fixed, amended. So I sit back and wonder, "is gender equality REALLY what these people want?"

Now I'm heavily biased, because as I've mentioned, I'm sick of feminist arguments and feminism. Sick of hearing that women are just as good as men in every aspect, and they should be treated in this way and that way and BLAH BLAH BLAH. Oh lord. I must confess though, that I hardly know anything about gender oppression. I've only ever read about it--- and I agree, females have it pretty bad. A fundamental level of respect should exist for all human beings, regardless of gender, race, religion etc. When I say that though, I mean you have a basic level of respect for their person, not their traits. Nobody expects you to respect Christianity if your faith lies with sacred purple flying monkeys. It seems,  however, that people confuse a person with the labels they carry, and tend to forget the obvious biological label of the the fact that PEOPLE ARE PEOPLE. It sounds so retarded when I say it. "People are people? ORLY NOW?" 

Which brings us back to the point about gender. Why do we give a fuck about gender? "Men are primitive monkeys who think with their penises", "women are PMS-ing bitches who never shut up and never mean what they say". Neither sound very appealing to me. Maybe I should find a sexless entity to marry instead.

So in my opini-onion (that should be a word), people should stfu about this gender thing and get over it. Really. Get over the "males are better than females" complex. Discrimination is inefficient. Get over the "I WANT THE SAME TREATMENT" thing. It's so stupid. It's like saying you want vitamin C tablets to treat your testicular cancer, BECAUSE YOU DESERVE THE SAME TREATMENT AS THE GUY WITH SCURVY, GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT.

Think about it for a second, will you? If we had absolute gender equality. In a fight, let's bash up women as well as men- because hell, they're equal. Work requiring heavy-lifting and physical exertion? Let's put equal amounts of men and women on the team. How about we mix women and men events in the Olympics as well? There's a much-needed reform. They're just being outright sexist, I reckon, having separate categories based on gender.

What's that, they're NOT being sexist? It's because women are disadvantaged? BUT I THOUGHT BOTH GENDERS WERE EQUAL. Sheesh. Perhaps the point to make clear about all this is that... it's not about one being better than the other... it's about being different. And God knows we've never coped well with different things. "You're different? Ewww cooties."

When people start to acknowledge that every human, despite their differences, is still in fact, human--- and therefore should be treated as a human, then the world will be a better place.

...Never mind the fact that some humans are far more stupid than others.

The Result of Procrastination

To procrastinate or to procrastinate on procrastinating, that is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to plagiarize Shakespeare, or to think of some original blog material...

Yeah, plagiarizing Shakespeare is too hard. I prefer writing whatever comes to mind. It is currently 9.11pm, and have filled almost 1/2 of this weekend's quota of work. Joys. I may or may not finish by 3am, if I start maths now. This is where I should switch to panic mode... except I really can't be bothered. As usual. I'll regret this when the exams come around in a week. Then I'll be like, "WHY HAVEN'T I DONE SHIT, I COULD HAVE NOT FAILED THESE EXAMS". However, it is much too early for regrets at the moment, though I can foresee it.

I'm in a weird position. I know I should be doing work, but naturally, I don't want to. So then I take out my phone to start procrastinating, but as I open a game I realise how horribly guilty I feel. So, switching the phone off, I turn to blogging. Now I'm no longer guilty... but it IS the strangest feeling. I am, in fact, procrastinating on procrastinating.

So I go on YouTube, right, listening to some song whilst blogging. Then I go find covers of that song, and I come across a contestant singing that song on a show similar to ____'s Got Talent. I watch with mild amusement, when suddenly, the camera focuses on one of the judges--- AND HOLY SHIT HE WAS SO CUTE. I go back a couple of seconds on the video, and pause at the right frame, just so I can catch a glimpse of his name plate--- 林隆璇. If your computer can't read Chinese that'll probably come up as 3 boxes, but if it can, that's his name.

THIS GUY^

From there on my obsession starts- I search him on the internet- woah, this guy sings, plays piano, composes and writes his own lyrics. Now THAT'S impressive. I listen to a bunch of his songs--- MY GOD HIS VOICE IS SO CUTE AS WELL. After downloading a bunch of his songs, I look at his biography with more detail. Is he married? If not, I can start fantasizing. Hmm..., there's nothing on his marital status... Then I look at his birthday... "9th of July 1964" 1964... how old is he going to be this year? 58? Wait, no, I can't add, 48. He's going to be 48 this year, because I'm turning 18 this year and he's 30 years older than me. My parents are 30 years older than me as well... OMFG HE WAS BORN IN THE SAME YEAR AS MY PARENTS.

That came as a shock horror. In fact, he's only a month younger than Dad. OH EW GROSS etc. See, I'm fine with guys older than Dad. 58 would've been fine. 38 is okay as well. Younger, older, BUT NOT THE SAME AGE. Now that I'm horribly repulsed by the fact that he's the same age as Dad...

I still find him irresistibly cute. GODDAMN. WHY.

A Fine Balance

My extended weekend is starting to feel too long. Though I should be cherishing my precious hours- hours which should be spent on work, I stroll around in idleness, lamenting the trivialities of life. That's not going to change any time soon, I suppose.

Waking up past noon has that effect on you- I felt as if I were robbed of my day. I have been awake for less than 2 hours- yet half my day has disappeared. If I had gotten up early, I would have had more time- but I did choose to sleep at three. The reason? I was reading a... (peculiar? Is that the word I want to use?) book that I had wanted to finish before going to bed. That way I could wake up with a clear head and start my analysis.

The title of the novel is the title of this entry: A Fine Balance. It describes the impacts of the political changes in India during the years of the Emergency; specifically from the lower class' point of view. It was anything but pleasant. Unlike my overly emotionally sympathetic friend (who I dearly love), however, I did not cry seven times. In fact, I don't remember crying at all. Strangely, even sadness was absent. Not that I'm an unfeeling statue or anything- I just didn't think the novel was particularly sad. It was more like a series of grotesque events pieced together, and what had formed was perhaps a little too bizarre for my cognitive empathy to interpret.

I kept a list of events which had happened in the novel, which I found particularly disturbing. One of my friends had commented that it was something that only I would do--- and I heartily agree. Being the wonderful person I am, I'll share the list with you, so you know what happens in this book without having to suffer the process of reading the entire 614 page novel like I did.

A Fine Balance: All the nasty scenes

1.  Nusswan (Dina’s brother) squeezing Dina’s nipples
2.  Ishvar’s mother getting raped in a field
3.  Narayan was hung upside down, naked. He was flogged and hot coal was applied to his mouth and genitals. Then they dragged his body back to his family and burnt his family.
4.  Maneck’s classmate masturbating against him at boarding school
5.   Maneck being stripped naked in and shoved in a refrigerator. He took a dump in there. After they let him out he was forced to ejaculate in front of them.
6.  Tikka (the dog) eats the two monkeys. Apparently Monkey-man has sex with his monkeys.
7. Monkey-man slits Tikka’s throat in front of an “altar”. He now lives with 2 small children.
8. Ashraf (an old tailor) is killed in a marquee. 
9. Om and Ishavar forced to undergo vasectomies with half-sterilized equipment.
10. Om is castrated after his operation, under the pretense of him having testicular cancer.
11. Ishvar and Om become beggars, with Om dragging Ishvar around. Ishvar had his legs amputated due to surgical complications. Om had become fat, possibly due to the hormonal imbalance after his castration.
12. Maneck steps off the platform at the railway station, committing suicide.

Nasty plot, is it not? (Heh, that rhymed.) The names may be confusing, but you get the general gist. Most of my friends found the castration scene to be the worst, but to me the most pitiable character was Monkey-man (no. 7). The 2 small children were his sister's, and they were taken away from him. The children had their hands cut off and their eyes blinded, then they were sent out to beg. Their physical deformities attracted greater monetary sympathy. I had felt and understood the hollowness in Monkey-man's character- being emotionally dependent on everything he could attach himself to, yet having all of those taken away from him. 

Anyway, so that I don't stand out in the crowd as the only person who was not overly-disgusted at the castration scene, I went back and re-read it. It was alright, really. The tone of this novel is very detached, as if it were merely recounting a series of events. I blame this for my general lack of emotion towards this novel.  And I don't really see why the castration scene was any worse than all the other scenes. Sure it symbolised a loss of manhood, but I think it was more the fact that it dealt with a sensitive region that people make a greater fuss over it. At least he was anesthetized when he was castrated. 

Being who I am, I looked up "effects of castration" on the internet. It turned up with images. That was kind of repulsive, but my curiosity overcame that with ease. That has been my entertainment for the past 10 minutes, reading a journal on the effects of castration. 

http://jcem.endojournals.org/content/84/12/4324.full

Disclaimer: The above link contains material similar to those I read on a daily basis, out of amusement. I only left it there to satisfy your curiosity, follow the link at your own discretion. I take no responsibility for your condition, physical or psychological, as a result of reading the article.

That being said, it is from a legitimate journal. Journal of Clinical Endocrinology and Metabolism. Oh... btw, there are images there. Nothing too upsetting, but then again--- perhaps our definitions of "upsetting" are slightly varied.

In summary I'd say A Fine Balance was a rather... satisfying read. Not many would agree with me, I guess. I can't say I enjoyed the experience, because this is not the type of novel I would voluntarily read. However, it is good literature, and I am ultimately glad to have read something like this. It makes you more refined as a person, in my opinion. 

So go ahead and read the novel if you have time. The author's won a multitude of literary awards, so at least you will have read something famous...ish. It is apparently "A masterpiece of illumination and grace. Like all great fiction, it transforms our understanding of life."

Earphones

My mother stomps into my room, and hurls a pair of earphones at me. "These earphones are ruined," she says. It takes me a moment or two to make sense of what was happening- oh right, they must've been in the pocket of my pants, and seeing as how she just did the laundry, she probably washed my earphones as well.

Shrugging, I tell her it's okay, and I don't mind.

What I did not expect, however, was her rage at me. "YOU POINTED TO THOSE PANTS, SO I JUST WASHED THEM. WHY DIDN'T YOU CHECK? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME? DO YOU HAVE NO COMMON SENSE?" I remain silent, stunned at this sudden outburst. It's like she's defending herself against an imaginary accusation. I did say that it was okay, didn't I? And these are my earphones. If anything, I should be the one who's upset, not her. Then she says a few more words which I heard but didn't pay attention to- and I laugh weakly in response. She imitates my weak laugh sarcastically, as if to say, "now look what you've done." Then she leaves my room in anger. I cannot fully express how overwhelmed I am by this event.

But then I'm like, "meh"

Well, I suppose one life lesson I've learnt from her today is how to be a complete bitch. If you've done something wrong- for example, damaged someone's property--- no, don't bother talking about it calmly. Don't bother apologising or expressing remorse. No, instead you had better blame the owner for allowing you to damage their possession- it's their fault, obviously. If you rage at them before they rage at you, then they'll be shocked into not raging at all. I'm sure apologies only fuel anger, anyway.

God, as stupid as this sounds... I think she might have a point there. Why does this stupid world work this way? See, at least now she feels no guilt about the earphones incident, and I am most certainly not going to provoke her now.

Except I don't want to be that way.

...Oh, did I mention... My earphones survived the laundry process quite well. In fact... they're completely fine, and there is no evidence that they have been through the washing machine, save the fact that they smell of washing powder.

Long weekend... of not-doing-anything

Public holiday this Monday- Queen's birthday or something. Holidays are always welcome- especially when I have inconveniently large amounts of work due. Stupid psychology report. Apparently we needed to have a sample size of 20- I managed 16. Time to fabricate some data... One reason why I hate humanities is because they make us write. Heaven forbid. I already write enough in maths- ironically, I hardly ever do any writing in English. Anyway- we need an introduction and proper discussion for the report... I despise writing proper reports. The chemistry one was fine- no introduction needed, half-assed discussion was acceptable. No need to reference anyone or anything. But noooo, psych you need to research and design your own experiment from scratch. Pain in the A-S-S.

Oh yeah, then there's maths. In fact, there's always maths. Man, fuck maths. I managed to fuck up one of my maths tests today, because somehow 2 to the power of 2 was still 2. Man I'm fucking retarded. That was a component of a massive equation- which of course ended in a mess due to my error. I feel like if I had banged my head against a wall and concussed myself, I could not have made a worse error. FML.

But I guess I've pretty much gotten over it by now.  Yes it was a pretty retarded mistake- but I am comforted by the fact that the stupidity of other people far outweigh my own. For every mistake I make there are 10 dimwits fucking up 10 times worse, to ensure that my grade is still tolerable. I guess I've fallen- I no longer aim to be clever- I just aim to be less-stupid than everyone else. Given the fact that our school is full of retards- it's not hard to accomplish.

It is rather comforting after all- even though the general stupidity and ignorance of the people around me piss me off- it is in circumstances such as this that their merit shine through. Stupid people exist for the sole-purpose of making me look better, I'm sure. 

The world DOES revolve around me, after all.

Start: 1.32am

Once again, I'm up at a stupid and inconvenient hour. I don't even have anything *important* due tomorrow- and I'm still awake and blogging. See how dedicated I am to my one-post-a-day schedule? Don't whine about the fact that because it's post-midnight it's a new day--- the world revolves around ME. A day doesn't end until I go to sleep, and it begins when I open my weary eyes. Therefore, it is still the same day as it was 2 hours ago.

So there's a maths assignment due tomorrow, which I've finished ages ago. I did all the work- all that was left was to copy it to the actual assignment sheet. Can't take that long, right? Boy was I wrong about that. I wrote it  in pencil- and because I was trying to be neat, it took longer than usual. I didn't actually realise how long my working was, until I had to write it out again. Then I had to trace over everything in pen- I wrote it in pencil first in case I made a mistake. Whiteout isn't allowed.... Thank God for computers and their delete keys. It's so much more convenient- I don't think blogging would be possible if I couldn't delete the stupid things I accidentally type.

Oh yeah--- there's also the draft of a psychology report which I have to write by like... now. Oh I can't be bothered. I don't think I'll hand in a draft. Fuck it, really. I don't even care about my stupid psychology marks. I just want the lowest A, and I'll be satisfied. I really should have done another English instead... this is so stupid. I don't have enough data for my report, and I wouldn't start it now even if I did.

My midnight oil burns low.

Now the time rapidly approaches 2am. I suppose it'll be at least 2am by the time I fall asleep. Which means I can get 5hours of sleep at most, since I wake up at 7am. Oh this is dismal indeed. It better not rain tomorrow- I have to catch a bus. Why am I getting almost no sleep? This is ridiculous... then there's that stupid validation test tomorrow...

Argh, screw everything. I'm going to fail... and I don't give a fuck. I just want to be able to sleep for more than 5 hours a night....

I just realised.... WHOOOOOO FRIDAY.

Teacher's Pity

So as you guys know, I've been behind on my maths homework despite my constant efforts... Now I'm roughly one week behind, so what I'm doing now is technically last week's work. In class today, my teacher walked over, glanced at what I was doing, and shook his head sympathetically. "Listen, I think you should probably move off that exercise and do some of the other stuff." Our class is up to.. the one after 15? I was doing ex.12 in class... which I should've done last week.

It felt fucking awful, when he came up to me and told me to just move on. It's like he thinks I'm retarded or something. Well on the bright side, I will have surpassed his expectations when the tests come around... but on the not-so-bright side... MY TEACHER THINKS I'M RETARDED.

*so cut*

After my not-very reassurances about how I'll manage, he walked off with a doubtful look on his face. See, I DO appreciate his kindness- I like it when other people are care about me- but duuude, there are heaps of people who are eons behind me... I'm definitely not the worst-case scenario. It just feels super awkward when he does that to me...

It's like having people come over to pay their condolences to your dead father, when in fact he just passed out drunk and people thought he was dead. (My analogies are fantastic, I know).

Moral of the story: I should probably do my maths... but it's 11pm already. I could try to finish this exercise which I definitely won't finish... or I could squeeze in a round of games.

There really isn't a choice before me, is there?

When Expectation Meets Reality

*Enter Expectation, driving a Mercedes Benz with three beautiful half naked women in the back.*

Expectation: Ah, what a lovely day! The Sun dangles from the azure sky, the gentle rays feel lovely on my face. The breeze is soft, and the clouds are puffy like cotton candy. I must be the happiest person in the world.
Beautiful Women: Oh~you. You are such a poet. So perfect~ If only there were more men like you~
Expectation: Oh my pretty ladies, I'm the only perfect man you'll ever need. *winks*


*Enter Reality, who appears suddenly out of nowhere.*


Reality: That's a fucking horrible poem. In fact, that's not even a poem. It doesn't even fucking rhyme. You fucking suck at this.
Expectation: Ahem~ That, sir, is rather forward of you. Though I must modestly confess that it is not much of a poem-
Reality: Damn straight. And what the fuck are you doing with these girls here? How can they be wearing so little? WHORES.
Expectation: ...Oh, how rude. They have the right to dress however they please, and if it is a fashion which shows off their beautiful bodies, then I have no protests. Besides, it is summer-

*Gust of strong wind blows from nowhere. Temperature falls to 2 degrees Celsius.*

Reality: Not anymore it isn't. WINTER!
Expectation: Hey, what the hell? It was warmer only moments ago... Well, at least it's still sunny...
Reality: CUE THE RAIN!

*Thunderstorm. The beautiful women all run off screaming*

Expectation: Noooo~ Come back~! Argh, this is foul weather indeed. Whatever happened to the lovely skies?
Reality: It was never lovely.
Expectation: But it was only moments ago---
Reality: IT WAS A LIE.
Expectation: What's the matter with you?! First you come in and insult me, then you insult those lovely ladies, and even now you're being unpleasant. But come, now's not the time to argue, let's get in my car so we don't get drenched by the rain---
Reality: There is no car.
Expectation: Oh please don't be ridiculous. We're going to catch a cold in the rain---

*Reality pulls out explosives from nowhere, hurls them at the Mercedes Benz. The car erupts in flames*

Expectation: HEY~! What the hell was that?
Reality: THERE IS NO CAR.
Expectation: OMFG WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH A FUCKING JERK?
Reality: Ha, I knew you couldn't hold up the nice guy image for long!

*Expectation recollects his composure*


Expectation: Oh I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened there, I just lost it all of a sudden. I'm sure you didn't mean to do that. It was a pretty lousy car anyway. Let's just leave.

*Expectation drags Reality over to a shelter*
*Reality slaps Expectation in the face*


Expectation: Ow, that hurt, but it was expected. I suppose I needed that. I shouldn't have lost my temper. Thanks for waking me up.
Reality: You're fucking retarded.
Expectation: Well, I know I've never been the brightest out there, but I would say that I'm better than most.
Reality: You're more retarded than a shit-eating monkey with glue for brains.
Expectation: That's a little harsh... But hey, cheer up! When the rain clears, we'll at least be able to go home!
Reality: Your parents don't love you.
Expectation: Oh come on now don't say that. They're a little cold sometimes but-
Reality: Your friends think you're gay.
Expectation: That's not even funny.

*Reality kicks Expectation in the balls*


Reality: Now it's funny.

*Reality poofs, leaving Expectation on the ground alone, crying in pain*


---------------------------Fine------------------------------------------------

TRUE STORY.

^My attempt at writing a play, in case you don't know a script when you see one. Having finished, I feel like I am Shakespeare reborn. Oh how often have I shouted: "MY LIFE IS A TRAGEDY. I must be Shakespeare." Then my friend would correct me: "you mean Hamlet," and I would say, "no, I mean Shakespeare, because I write my own tragedies."