I'm home! After a long day away--- roughly 300km away from home, actually. My phone has been overloaded with "how did you go" messages (in relation to the med interview), and I guess I'll just say that it was alright. I mean, I'd be more optimistic, except if I say "it was fucking fantastic" and then I get rejected, that would be horribly embarrassing. So we'll leave it at "it was alright".
I spent the rest of the day shopping with my friend. My feet are burning. Now I'd be happy with all the exercise, because hey, weight loss, except I am certain I ate my weight's worth of food. FOOD IS SO CHEAP THERE. OH MY GOD. I can become bloated with less than 10 dollars. AND IT WAS DELICIOUS. Ah, I'm excited. If I studied there next year I think I would just be... fat. Or morbidly obese.
Maybe I should consider exercise.
I bought more than food, of course. Keeping the whole Christmas spirit thing in mind, I bought a fuckload of gifts. Hell, I even bought Dad an iPhone case and a screen protector. I think it looks nice. It's one of those leathery ones which covers the front and back of the phone. I kinda got air-bubbles trapped under the screen protector, but I don't think Dad minds. I think he's happy.
Then I bought a hell-load of random little things, which I plan on giving away tomorrow. I think I owe a present to everyone who had a birthday in the past month. Mostly because they gave me a present for my birthday, so I should really reciprocate. I'd feel immensely guilty otherwise.
Tomorrow should be fun! I'm meeting up with my friends.
And I found a job! Did I tell you? I don't think I did. I found a job! I should be able to afford a gaming console this Christmas!
Oh and I also caught a cold while travelling. My nose was blocked during my interview, and I was sweating profusely. No, not because I was nervous, but because it was so goddamn hot and humid. Was rather embarrassing. Might also be because of my body temperature though...
Okay, I'm going to bed now. I'm kinda tired. I don't think I'm making much sense either.
I just wanted to tell you that the whole thing was really, really, really fun. I'm glad I went to this med interview.
Thursday, 29 November 2012
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Travel- Med Interview
So I'm going away for my med interview- and I have to stay there overnight. My parents are freaking out. I leave in the afternoon, and since yesterday my parents have talked to me at least 5 times about what to take, what to do if I'm hungry, don't be afraid of spending money if I need to, don't freak out at the interview, remember to call home---- etc. I'm starting to get annoyed, but then I control myself, hypnotically repeating "I am not annoyed. I am not an ungrateful bastard. My parents are displaying concern for my well-being. I am not annoyed."
Surprisingly, it works. I'm reeeally looking forward to this interview. Well, not just the interview itself, but getting to spend time in town afterwards. I know most people would probably freak out and feel worried--- not that I'm claiming to be super-confident, but I guess I'm just a little happy right now. It's like the "school is over" does of happiness has just kicked in. I feel great. Borderline euphoric, but that's okay.
Ah I think I will feel really bad if they rejected me after all. I found out last night, that my mother went over to her best friend's house. Yeah yeah, the one who I think is a complete bitch. I should give her a name, instead of writing that every time. Her daughter (my classmate) went to an interview earlier, and my mother asked her how she went, what was asked etc. Apparently she replied "It was okay. They asked easy stuff. I went okay." etc., obviously unwilling to share. That's fine, of course. To my understanding she is ultra competitive and desperate to get into med school. Not that I'm boasting, but I would make decent competition.
What makes me feel truly bad though, is that my mother asked, full well knowing the kind of response she would get. Mum told me how her friend's expression changed so drastically, as soon as she asked the question. Now while I hate that stupid bitch-face friend of hers, I don't want Mum to damage her friendship because of me. I know Mum only asked holding onto that sliver of hope that they'll tell her something, and then I might find it useful. As a result I now feel tremendously guilty. Apparently Mum's friend had once said to her, "Why should [my class mate] help them? They're all competitors!" when discussing the subject of school.
Heh, and some of my friends wonder why that class mate of mine doesn't answer the phone, when they call her 50 times the night before the chemistry exam.
Ah, it doesn't matter. If they feel offended because Mum asked (she really shouldn't have, though I kind of feel good because she only asked for me), then they can be angry in their little corner. I guess if Mum's friend breaks up the friendship- then good riddance, I really hated her anyway. I'm sure my mother can find better friends to gossip with.
And that's that. I'm gonna go have some fun now. See ya later.
Surprisingly, it works. I'm reeeally looking forward to this interview. Well, not just the interview itself, but getting to spend time in town afterwards. I know most people would probably freak out and feel worried--- not that I'm claiming to be super-confident, but I guess I'm just a little happy right now. It's like the "school is over" does of happiness has just kicked in. I feel great. Borderline euphoric, but that's okay.
Ah I think I will feel really bad if they rejected me after all. I found out last night, that my mother went over to her best friend's house. Yeah yeah, the one who I think is a complete bitch. I should give her a name, instead of writing that every time. Her daughter (my classmate) went to an interview earlier, and my mother asked her how she went, what was asked etc. Apparently she replied "It was okay. They asked easy stuff. I went okay." etc., obviously unwilling to share. That's fine, of course. To my understanding she is ultra competitive and desperate to get into med school. Not that I'm boasting, but I would make decent competition.
What makes me feel truly bad though, is that my mother asked, full well knowing the kind of response she would get. Mum told me how her friend's expression changed so drastically, as soon as she asked the question. Now while I hate that stupid bitch-face friend of hers, I don't want Mum to damage her friendship because of me. I know Mum only asked holding onto that sliver of hope that they'll tell her something, and then I might find it useful. As a result I now feel tremendously guilty. Apparently Mum's friend had once said to her, "Why should [my class mate] help them? They're all competitors!" when discussing the subject of school.
Heh, and some of my friends wonder why that class mate of mine doesn't answer the phone, when they call her 50 times the night before the chemistry exam.
Ah, it doesn't matter. If they feel offended because Mum asked (she really shouldn't have, though I kind of feel good because she only asked for me), then they can be angry in their little corner. I guess if Mum's friend breaks up the friendship- then good riddance, I really hated her anyway. I'm sure my mother can find better friends to gossip with.
And that's that. I'm gonna go have some fun now. See ya later.
Tuesday, 27 November 2012
Bittersweet
I think that is how I will describe how I feel--- bittersweet. The taste of freedom is overwhelming--- though at the same time, so are my parents. The end of school means nothing. Less work, yes. Less stress? Hell no. I feel myself lapsing into that angry pissy mood I only feel when I have 5 pieces of assessment in the same week. I guess that's equivalent to having a bad time around parents.
Look, that argument about what to wear to med interviews occurred, like I had anticipated. My mother brought clothes into my room, I told her I didn't like them, she forced me to try it on, and by force I mean she literally screamed in my face. "HOW CAN YOU SAY THEY DON'T LOOK GOOD WHEN YOU HAVEN'T EVEN WORN THEM". Because I have eyes, for starters.
Though I will not claim to be a fashion expert, I can confidently say that I know what I like and dislike wearing. Actually, that doesn't even have anything to do with fashion. If I wear something I don't want to wear, my mood changes so drastically, I don't think it would matter what I looked like. I will become the embodiment of "I hate every person in this world, myself included."
Anyway, my mother stormed out of my room, making her disapproval of me quite blatant. I can only shrug it off. I don't think she has a right to be angry. I know she brought those clothes over hoping that I'd find them appealing, thus wearing them to my interview. I don't. I hate how her mind works--- when we, after much compromise, find an item of clothing that we can both tolerate, she will change her mind in about a month. All because I start wearing it regularly. It then becomes ugly, inappropriate, dull--- never mind the fact that she's the one who first proposed it. Then anything I reject will immediately become very pleasing, and will look fantastic on me for no apparent reason.
Heh, she's like a difficult child, isn't she? Getting angry when she can't have her way, not giving a shit about how I think.
...And how old I must feel, comparing my own mother's behavior to that of a difficult child. When I put it into that perspective, I guess I have no reason to be angry at her. Anger only fuels more anger. I think it's about time I learnt, to not be ragey. It's not productive in any way, and I don't even feel better in the end.
You know what's been great though? Drawing. Ah, did I ever tell you that I draw? I must have. And I think most of you reading this would know anyway. Post-exam, all I've done is play games and draw. I created a Tumblr account, which I did not dare create when I still had school. Now I'm free to do what I want.
Actually, I have TWO Tumblr accounts. One is my personal one, the other is co-authored with my wonderful and amazingly talented friend. Not we have much on there, since I created it like...yesterday.
My personal one: http://vanelikestodraw.tumblr.com/
The one shared with my awesome friend: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/serotoninandvipers
Here you go, if you're curious. I think it will be quite cool, when we have enough things to put up there. Don't laugh, I'm a noob with photoshop, and I only learnt how to use a scanner app today. I'll get better, I promise.
Look, that argument about what to wear to med interviews occurred, like I had anticipated. My mother brought clothes into my room, I told her I didn't like them, she forced me to try it on, and by force I mean she literally screamed in my face. "HOW CAN YOU SAY THEY DON'T LOOK GOOD WHEN YOU HAVEN'T EVEN WORN THEM". Because I have eyes, for starters.
Pretty eyes, for that matter.
Though I will not claim to be a fashion expert, I can confidently say that I know what I like and dislike wearing. Actually, that doesn't even have anything to do with fashion. If I wear something I don't want to wear, my mood changes so drastically, I don't think it would matter what I looked like. I will become the embodiment of "I hate every person in this world, myself included."
Anyway, my mother stormed out of my room, making her disapproval of me quite blatant. I can only shrug it off. I don't think she has a right to be angry. I know she brought those clothes over hoping that I'd find them appealing, thus wearing them to my interview. I don't. I hate how her mind works--- when we, after much compromise, find an item of clothing that we can both tolerate, she will change her mind in about a month. All because I start wearing it regularly. It then becomes ugly, inappropriate, dull--- never mind the fact that she's the one who first proposed it. Then anything I reject will immediately become very pleasing, and will look fantastic on me for no apparent reason.
Heh, she's like a difficult child, isn't she? Getting angry when she can't have her way, not giving a shit about how I think.
...And how old I must feel, comparing my own mother's behavior to that of a difficult child. When I put it into that perspective, I guess I have no reason to be angry at her. Anger only fuels more anger. I think it's about time I learnt, to not be ragey. It's not productive in any way, and I don't even feel better in the end.
You know what's been great though? Drawing. Ah, did I ever tell you that I draw? I must have. And I think most of you reading this would know anyway. Post-exam, all I've done is play games and draw. I created a Tumblr account, which I did not dare create when I still had school. Now I'm free to do what I want.
Actually, I have TWO Tumblr accounts. One is my personal one, the other is co-authored with my wonderful and amazingly talented friend. Not we have much on there, since I created it like...yesterday.
My personal one: http://vanelikestodraw.tumblr.com/
The one shared with my awesome friend: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/serotoninandvipers
Here you go, if you're curious. I think it will be quite cool, when we have enough things to put up there. Don't laugh, I'm a noob with photoshop, and I only learnt how to use a scanner app today. I'll get better, I promise.
Monday, 26 November 2012
Over.
There, it's over. I'm done. School etc. Last test.
...It doesn't seem right. Where is my feeling of excitement? Elation? Nothing. It's not there.
It feels like every other bloody Monday. My agenda for this week is crammed full, and though it's mostly celebratory stuff... I still feel as if it's just another week. Oh God, maybe I've lost the ability to feel excited. Nah, that can't be right. My pulse accelerated during the last 2min of the maths exam-I could hear my heart beating. Then I managed to write "divergent" when I meant "convergent" and "less than" when I really meant "greater than".
Good job, me.
But eh, fuck all. I only remember what I failed, anyway. I'm pretty sure I got more correct than incorrect. Hopefully it's enough to be above a 93, but if it's not, I guess I don't really care. Not that I've cared about much this term... or any other term...
Hmmm, that was a good question, I got asked the other time. What do I care about?
...It doesn't seem right. Where is my feeling of excitement? Elation? Nothing. It's not there.
It feels like every other bloody Monday. My agenda for this week is crammed full, and though it's mostly celebratory stuff... I still feel as if it's just another week. Oh God, maybe I've lost the ability to feel excited. Nah, that can't be right. My pulse accelerated during the last 2min of the maths exam-I could hear my heart beating. Then I managed to write "divergent" when I meant "convergent" and "less than" when I really meant "greater than".
Good job, me.
But eh, fuck all. I only remember what I failed, anyway. I'm pretty sure I got more correct than incorrect. Hopefully it's enough to be above a 93, but if it's not, I guess I don't really care. Not that I've cared about much this term... or any other term...
Hmmm, that was a good question, I got asked the other time. What do I care about?
Sunday, 25 November 2012
Online Shopping
One of the first things I did when I turned 18 was surprisingly not hookers or cocaine (or your mother, for that matter). Okay, that was uncalled for. Anyway, I got a PayPal account to pay for my online subscriptions I'm a little ashamed to tell people about, so I'll keep that private. You can guess. Then I left my PayPal without money for a couple of months to stop myself from spending. Today I started again.
Because I lack common sense in general, I decided to shop at some Chinese site with free shipping. Of course they were cheap. Then it struck me, after I had paid for the order, to check on the legitimacy of the site, and read reviews. After that I was like, "huh, I'm no better than the stupid people I complain about". Maybe I should learn to check where I'm spending my money before dishing it out.
Not that I'll lament the loss of 15 bucks for long. It's about $5 less than my lunch money. And now that I am no longer expecting to receive anything after reading reviews (apparently these people never ship your orders), I guess it'll be a pleasant surprise if what I ordered turns up in 6 months. I guess it's kinda sad in a way, that though I am Chinese myself, I inherently distrust Chinese sites. In my defense, China is notorious for its fraudulent poor quality products, as well as scams in general.
Why don't I contact costumer service and ask for a refund? Well, because I only ordered today, and funny as it sounds, I still want what I ordered. I know there are a million bad reviews on the internet, but I still feel as if I have no right to complain about them if I have never experienced it myself. So I'm resigned to waiting patiently. Hopefully it'll get here before Christmas.
Because I lack common sense in general, I decided to shop at some Chinese site with free shipping. Of course they were cheap. Then it struck me, after I had paid for the order, to check on the legitimacy of the site, and read reviews. After that I was like, "huh, I'm no better than the stupid people I complain about". Maybe I should learn to check where I'm spending my money before dishing it out.
Not that I'll lament the loss of 15 bucks for long. It's about $5 less than my lunch money. And now that I am no longer expecting to receive anything after reading reviews (apparently these people never ship your orders), I guess it'll be a pleasant surprise if what I ordered turns up in 6 months. I guess it's kinda sad in a way, that though I am Chinese myself, I inherently distrust Chinese sites. In my defense, China is notorious for its fraudulent poor quality products, as well as scams in general.
Which is kind of ironic, since I swear most of what I use is made in China.
Why don't I contact costumer service and ask for a refund? Well, because I only ordered today, and funny as it sounds, I still want what I ordered. I know there are a million bad reviews on the internet, but I still feel as if I have no right to complain about them if I have never experienced it myself. So I'm resigned to waiting patiently. Hopefully it'll get here before Christmas.
Saturday, 24 November 2012
There We Go. Again.
I was just thinking to myself how I haven't complained about my parents for an awful long time. And by long time I mean one fucking week. Still, that set the record. Or maybe I was just too busy with all my school stuff to notice anyone/anything else.
Then today I just got hit by another shit-storm. Well, to be fair it was something I propagated--- not that I'm any less angry after realising that. You see my hair has grown to record-breaking lengths (well it's the longest I've ever had in my life), and I can't find time for a proper haircut. Since it was quite hot today, I tied my hair back. Then while I was sitting down eating noodles Dad walked in, and he commented how he thought I was someone else. That someone? You know that friend's mother who I think is a complete bitch? Yeah, he thought I was her. My first reaction was "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"
That's probably the most insulting thing I've ever heard. Saying I look like one of the people who I dislike most in the world. FOR FUCK'S SAKE, she's old, unattractive, bitchy, obnoxious, loud, menopausal and practically despised in every way by me. Dad insists that it was the hair, and I have the sudden urge to shave myself bald--- after punching him in the face.
Of course I did neither, and my mother tells me I'm overreacting and that I'm too sensitive. Yeah, I am. Next time I see a donkey, I might comment to Dad how I mistook it for him, since they practically look the same anyway. Man, I'd even say they acted the same way.
I don't let grudges go.
So I spend my time being moody, until my sister runs into my room and screams at me to have dinner, because she thinks it's oh-so-funny to scream. Well, I WONDER WHO SHE LEARNT THAT FROM. And of course the 10min every night at the dinner table is the worst time of the day. Dad continues to bombard me with questions about my med interviews, giving me advice that I don't even want to hear, because I hate the sound of his voice. I could learn to respect him a little, but that would require one of us to become a different person.
The dinner table is really just an endless cycle of shit. Shit, shit, shit. It used to be about learning English, when I couldn't speak properly. Then even when I had learnt English (and was really better at the subject than most native speakers) Dad insisted I was inherently bad because it wasn't my first language. It took him 6 years to stop suggesting that I was linguistically challenged. Of course by then he'd moved onto other stuff, like why I was gaming so much, how fat I was and how I was doing in class. Look, my straight-A record means jack.
I think it only got worse over these two years. At the dinner table he first complained about my grades (I crashed to 80s in maths in my first term), then when they improved he complained about how I wasn't sleeping enough. After I dropped IB (and got enough sleep for the first time in a whole year) he challenged me on giving up too easily, lacking persistence and thus lacking in solid character, whatever the fuck that meant. Then it was about the ATAR, "Can you get it to a 99?", "What are your chances of getting a 99?", "Is your ATAR 99?" etc., etc. Then it changed to the topic of UMAT, telling me to study for it, getting angry, complaining about me failing, demanding to know my friends' scores.
Now we start on med interviews. "What are you going to wear? You don't even have anything formal! You can't leave your hair tied like this, get a haircut! Interviews are important things, if you don't look the part-"
And he goes on. Sometimes I truly despise the superficiality in our world, though I know full well that I am a part of it.
If I thought it'd all end at med interviews, I would be stupid. He has so many more topics to annoy me with. My uni studies, my part-time job, my profession, my income, my relationships, marriage--- And I can already imagine my future self screaming at him to get the fuck out of my life. Though he'll insist that he has the right, as my father, to interfere. Me, being me, will never give in to bullshit like that.
Thus the war is never won.
Then today I just got hit by another shit-storm. Well, to be fair it was something I propagated--- not that I'm any less angry after realising that. You see my hair has grown to record-breaking lengths (well it's the longest I've ever had in my life), and I can't find time for a proper haircut. Since it was quite hot today, I tied my hair back. Then while I was sitting down eating noodles Dad walked in, and he commented how he thought I was someone else. That someone? You know that friend's mother who I think is a complete bitch? Yeah, he thought I was her. My first reaction was "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"
That's probably the most insulting thing I've ever heard. Saying I look like one of the people who I dislike most in the world. FOR FUCK'S SAKE, she's old, unattractive, bitchy, obnoxious, loud, menopausal and practically despised in every way by me. Dad insists that it was the hair, and I have the sudden urge to shave myself bald--- after punching him in the face.
Of course I did neither, and my mother tells me I'm overreacting and that I'm too sensitive. Yeah, I am. Next time I see a donkey, I might comment to Dad how I mistook it for him, since they practically look the same anyway. Man, I'd even say they acted the same way.
I don't let grudges go.
So I spend my time being moody, until my sister runs into my room and screams at me to have dinner, because she thinks it's oh-so-funny to scream. Well, I WONDER WHO SHE LEARNT THAT FROM. And of course the 10min every night at the dinner table is the worst time of the day. Dad continues to bombard me with questions about my med interviews, giving me advice that I don't even want to hear, because I hate the sound of his voice. I could learn to respect him a little, but that would require one of us to become a different person.
The dinner table is really just an endless cycle of shit. Shit, shit, shit. It used to be about learning English, when I couldn't speak properly. Then even when I had learnt English (and was really better at the subject than most native speakers) Dad insisted I was inherently bad because it wasn't my first language. It took him 6 years to stop suggesting that I was linguistically challenged. Of course by then he'd moved onto other stuff, like why I was gaming so much, how fat I was and how I was doing in class. Look, my straight-A record means jack.
I think it only got worse over these two years. At the dinner table he first complained about my grades (I crashed to 80s in maths in my first term), then when they improved he complained about how I wasn't sleeping enough. After I dropped IB (and got enough sleep for the first time in a whole year) he challenged me on giving up too easily, lacking persistence and thus lacking in solid character, whatever the fuck that meant. Then it was about the ATAR, "Can you get it to a 99?", "What are your chances of getting a 99?", "Is your ATAR 99?" etc., etc. Then it changed to the topic of UMAT, telling me to study for it, getting angry, complaining about me failing, demanding to know my friends' scores.
Now we start on med interviews. "What are you going to wear? You don't even have anything formal! You can't leave your hair tied like this, get a haircut! Interviews are important things, if you don't look the part-"
And he goes on. Sometimes I truly despise the superficiality in our world, though I know full well that I am a part of it.
I should just move to a different planet.
If I thought it'd all end at med interviews, I would be stupid. He has so many more topics to annoy me with. My uni studies, my part-time job, my profession, my income, my relationships, marriage--- And I can already imagine my future self screaming at him to get the fuck out of my life. Though he'll insist that he has the right, as my father, to interfere. Me, being me, will never give in to bullshit like that.
Thus the war is never won.
One More Exam
Had my chemistry exam yesterday, so I only need to sit one more maths exam on Monday. After that, I'll be done. Ah, chemistry was horrible. For once I legitimately knew how to do all the questions, except I kinda ran out of time. Like, massively ran out of time. Which was a shame, since I could do the whole test (doesn't happen very often).
I should learn to write faster.
Though I should be catching up on a whole term's worth of maths, because my final maths exam is approaching, I cannot help but procrastinate. In fact I played games most of last night. Right now I'm listening to Gregorian--- I don't know why, but I really like them. This is probably the most non-mainstream thing I've listened to in a while. If you're interested in church music, you should go check them out. Well, not that I particularly enjoy the religious setting, I was kinda referring to the stylistic features of their music.
Gah, I'll just link you.
I should learn to write faster.
Though I should be catching up on a whole term's worth of maths, because my final maths exam is approaching, I cannot help but procrastinate. In fact I played games most of last night. Right now I'm listening to Gregorian--- I don't know why, but I really like them. This is probably the most non-mainstream thing I've listened to in a while. If you're interested in church music, you should go check them out. Well, not that I particularly enjoy the religious setting, I was kinda referring to the stylistic features of their music.
Gah, I'll just link you.
Thursday, 22 November 2012
Dat Maffs Project
The maths project was due today, on top of the report I had to deliver an oral presentation of 10min in length. Now it was a group project, which I kind of neglected to mention before. Anyway, we delivered our presentation today, and I thought it was fucking awesome. A few blotches here and there, mostly because I cued myself in while my friend was still speaking, and I cut her off. Luckily she stopped, otherwise our voices would have overlapped. Oh well. Apart from that, we were rather awesome.
Now Hammy, who you may remember as the guy who I did not go mountain climbing with, was also in our group. So yesterday or the day before I was like, "hey guys, let's have a black and white theme, so we're all going to dress in black and white." The two other members agreed, BUT GUESS WHO SHOWED UP IN BLUE JEANS TODAY? Hah, you don't need to guess. Of course it was Hammy. Luckily his jeans were sufficiently dark, so it looked black... if you were color-insensitive enough. It wasn't intentional on his part, otherwise I may have felt inclined whack him, for making our color scheme so awkward.
The other presentations were pretty average, I must say. No one can compete with my awesomeness. Hah, I kid, everyone else who presented did so superbly, and I'm a little worried about my marks at the moment (comparative scoring). That's okay though, because hey, at least one of my maths is over. Well and truly over.
And as a bonus I managed to get a photo (or maybe 5) with my favorite teacher. There's my desktop image for the next 5 months.
Now Hammy, who you may remember as the guy who I did not go mountain climbing with, was also in our group. So yesterday or the day before I was like, "hey guys, let's have a black and white theme, so we're all going to dress in black and white." The two other members agreed, BUT GUESS WHO SHOWED UP IN BLUE JEANS TODAY? Hah, you don't need to guess. Of course it was Hammy. Luckily his jeans were sufficiently dark, so it looked black... if you were color-insensitive enough. It wasn't intentional on his part, otherwise I may have felt inclined whack him, for making our color scheme so awkward.
HEY GUYS, WHAT U--- oh.
The other presentations were pretty average, I must say. No one can compete with my awesomeness. Hah, I kid, everyone else who presented did so superbly, and I'm a little worried about my marks at the moment (comparative scoring). That's okay though, because hey, at least one of my maths is over. Well and truly over.
And as a bonus I managed to get a photo (or maybe 5) with my favorite teacher. There's my desktop image for the next 5 months.
Wednesday, 21 November 2012
Last Day of School
You know, it doesn't feel like today is the last day of school, possibly because I still have my exams. Technically today was the last teaching day, and of course we didn't do anything in class except for celebrate, but I had the misfortune of witnessing one of my closer friends get into a bit of a toughie with my favorite teacher. Maybe I could've said something, done something, but eh it's too late now.
So Dad bought a new phone after my sister smashed his tablet (which I thought was rather lame anyway). This time I told him to get a phone case and a screen protector, so that it might become slightly more smash-resistant. It's an iPhone 5, and I believe it's the most expensive phone out on the common market right now. Yay for hipster overpriced products! Though I'm glad he got himself something mainstream (okay, maybe not so hipster after all) and expensive, at least he knows where to get it fixed. Dad has the tendency to purchase things which seem rather dodge because they're a couple hundred cheaper, and then they'll break within the first year. And because Dad is so awkward, he won't actually go get it fixed, because it's too much effort.
And it's about time he actually spent money on what he wanted, as opposed to spending money on shitty substitutes. I do understand why someone would go for the substitute good, but if it does not in fact properly substitute what you originally wanted, the purpose is kind of defeated. At least now Dad is happy with his new tech.
...Though I wish he'd stop complaining about the size of his touchscreen.
I've been setting up his iPhone for the past hour, because I've never used a iPhone before, and I was used to having a physical back button. Then there was all that "Apple ID" crap, and Dad has the tendency to use the longest email addresses and the most baffling passwords, like Sa847XIe9 or something to that effect. No, that's not his actual password, you stupid. I was trying to say that his uses a completely random string of letters and numbers which he has forced into his memory.
...And that's my night! I kind of need to hand in my maths project tomorrow. It's largely finished, but I also have to deliver a presentation, and I did not practise. Oh well. I have a chemistry exam on Friday too, don't I? Well, I guess I have one whole afternoon to revise for chemistry!
This is going to go down well.
So Dad bought a new phone after my sister smashed his tablet (which I thought was rather lame anyway). This time I told him to get a phone case and a screen protector, so that it might become slightly more smash-resistant. It's an iPhone 5, and I believe it's the most expensive phone out on the common market right now. Yay for hipster overpriced products! Though I'm glad he got himself something mainstream (okay, maybe not so hipster after all) and expensive, at least he knows where to get it fixed. Dad has the tendency to purchase things which seem rather dodge because they're a couple hundred cheaper, and then they'll break within the first year. And because Dad is so awkward, he won't actually go get it fixed, because it's too much effort.
And it's about time he actually spent money on what he wanted, as opposed to spending money on shitty substitutes. I do understand why someone would go for the substitute good, but if it does not in fact properly substitute what you originally wanted, the purpose is kind of defeated. At least now Dad is happy with his new tech.
...Though I wish he'd stop complaining about the size of his touchscreen.
I've been setting up his iPhone for the past hour, because I've never used a iPhone before, and I was used to having a physical back button. Then there was all that "Apple ID" crap, and Dad has the tendency to use the longest email addresses and the most baffling passwords, like Sa847XIe9 or something to that effect. No, that's not his actual password, you stupid. I was trying to say that his uses a completely random string of letters and numbers which he has forced into his memory.
...And that's my night! I kind of need to hand in my maths project tomorrow. It's largely finished, but I also have to deliver a presentation, and I did not practise. Oh well. I have a chemistry exam on Friday too, don't I? Well, I guess I have one whole afternoon to revise for chemistry!
This is going to go down well.
Tuesday, 20 November 2012
Love Calculator
So on the internet you see all these relationship, love and marriage calculators floating around. They're pretty much the same. You enter your name and someone else's, presumably someone you're in a relationship/ want to be in a relationship with, and then the love calculator calculates your compatibility. Now you shouldn't need me to tell you this, but these things are absolutely ridiculous. And I think anyone who believes it is mentally impaired.
For example, if you go on http://lovecalculator.com.au/, you'll find that there is 100% compatibility between "Vane" and "Tits". Pretty cool, eh? I thought it was too. And I was going to venerate this thing until it came up with 100% compatibility for "Vane" and "AIDS". Fuck you too, you piece of shit.
What got me looking up love calculators in the first place? Well, someone I know (but I'm not particularly close to) recently broke up with their girlfriend. And yup, you guessed it, they broke up over a love calculator. Now I don't actually know the details, because like I said I don't know them very well, but oh my God this is so stupid, I am actually cringing.
I mean, superstition is fun every now and then. Star signs, palm reading, blood type, Chinese zodiac--- even fortune cookies. Hell, there was this fortune cookie which told me I'd be an excellent lawyer, because I paid attention to detail. That's not quite true, because I am quite negligent of everything, though I do like the idea of me being an excellent lawyer.
Moral of the story? Don't break up with someone over a lover calculator, goddammit.
For example, if you go on http://lovecalculator.com.au/, you'll find that there is 100% compatibility between "Vane" and "Tits". Pretty cool, eh? I thought it was too. And I was going to venerate this thing until it came up with 100% compatibility for "Vane" and "AIDS". Fuck you too, you piece of shit.
What got me looking up love calculators in the first place? Well, someone I know (but I'm not particularly close to) recently broke up with their girlfriend. And yup, you guessed it, they broke up over a love calculator. Now I don't actually know the details, because like I said I don't know them very well, but oh my God this is so stupid, I am actually cringing.
I mean, superstition is fun every now and then. Star signs, palm reading, blood type, Chinese zodiac--- even fortune cookies. Hell, there was this fortune cookie which told me I'd be an excellent lawyer, because I paid attention to detail. That's not quite true, because I am quite negligent of everything, though I do like the idea of me being an excellent lawyer.
Moral of the story? Don't break up with someone over a lover calculator, goddammit.
Monday, 19 November 2012
My stash of awards
So today I got a whole bunch of certificates for all the competitions I did this year. There were a looot. I did better than I thought, but that's probably because I was used to getting a string of credits in competitions. Uh, if you don't know how it works, let me explain:
Participation---> every loser gets one. This is rockfall pit-bottom, the lowest you can get.
Proficiency---> I don't even. This is one of the rarest awards, for the wrong reasons. Wedged between credit and participation, I think it's something like... I don't know, I can't even make up a range.
Credit---> the rank I get most often. It's pretty...shit. Depending on the competition, the top 50 - 30% will receive a credit.
Distinction---> this is what I accept as "average" or "standard". Yeah I have high standards. Everything below a distinction I see as a bit of a failure. Therefore I fail on a regular basis. Top 15 % or 10%.
High Distinction---> top 1 % or top 5%, depending on competition. This is holy fucking crazy. I've never gotten one of these before, probably because I'm too stupid. Well, I've never gotten one until TODAY.
That's right, bitches. I got a HD. Well, not one. THREE. I think you remember me telling you about the economics thing. The other two were for science. I don't actually consider myself a science nerd. I mean, I hardly like the discipline. Physics and more recently chemistry bores me. And I've never liked bio as a rule. I guess that increases the satisfaction of doing well in these comps. It's as if I'm saying, "yeeah look at me, I don't even give a fuck about this and I BEAT YOU ALL".
Because you know, the world is unfair like that.
And I guess...that's all I wanted to tell you about. I am in fact, secretly, a science genius! Hah, I'm kidding. But right now I'm just sitting back casually, typing this post and admiring this plaque I got for one of the HDs. No, not a dental plaque. Though for me both are probably equally hard to achieve, because I can't stand not-brushing my teeth.
Participation---> every loser gets one. This is rockfall pit-bottom, the lowest you can get.
Proficiency---> I don't even. This is one of the rarest awards, for the wrong reasons. Wedged between credit and participation, I think it's something like... I don't know, I can't even make up a range.
Credit---> the rank I get most often. It's pretty...shit. Depending on the competition, the top 50 - 30% will receive a credit.
Distinction---> this is what I accept as "average" or "standard". Yeah I have high standards. Everything below a distinction I see as a bit of a failure. Therefore I fail on a regular basis. Top 15 % or 10%.
High Distinction---> top 1 % or top 5%, depending on competition. This is holy fucking crazy. I've never gotten one of these before, probably because I'm too stupid. Well, I've never gotten one until TODAY.
That's right, bitches. I got a HD. Well, not one. THREE. I think you remember me telling you about the economics thing. The other two were for science. I don't actually consider myself a science nerd. I mean, I hardly like the discipline. Physics and more recently chemistry bores me. And I've never liked bio as a rule. I guess that increases the satisfaction of doing well in these comps. It's as if I'm saying, "yeeah look at me, I don't even give a fuck about this and I BEAT YOU ALL".
Because you know, the world is unfair like that.
Busty anime girl gets the message across perfectly.
Sunday, 18 November 2012
Crisis Cont'd
Truth be told, I woke up at 7 despite going to bed at something like 3. Then I realised how if I got up and out of bed, I would be pinned with guilt about that unfinished maths assignment. So I decided to roll in bed like I did yesterday, moaning "waking is suffering" at certain intervals. I guess an existential crisis is not something you can sleep off after all.
So when I finally got out I sat in the garden, maths textbook on the table next to a pen and a notepad. Time to get down to serious business. Then I noticed how the Sun was lovely and warm so I walked on the grass and started jumping up and down because you know, fuck maths. I noticed how wonderfully attractive my legs looked in the reflection of our glass doors, so I skipped around admiring my own legs for about half an hour. I'm on the verge of becoming batshit insane, I know.
In the end I wrote like, 1 sentence, which consisted of around 20 words. That's alright, 20/1000. 1/500. I can handle that. I just need to write 499 more sentences of the same length.
But hey, if I can get this done tonight.... I'll be free forever after. FREE. FREE. OMFG if only I wrote my maths assignment as fast as I wrote blog posts.
So when I finally got out I sat in the garden, maths textbook on the table next to a pen and a notepad. Time to get down to serious business. Then I noticed how the Sun was lovely and warm so I walked on the grass and started jumping up and down because you know, fuck maths. I noticed how wonderfully attractive my legs looked in the reflection of our glass doors, so I skipped around admiring my own legs for about half an hour. I'm on the verge of becoming batshit insane, I know.
In the end I wrote like, 1 sentence, which consisted of around 20 words. That's alright, 20/1000. 1/500. I can handle that. I just need to write 499 more sentences of the same length.
Kill me now.
But hey, if I can get this done tonight.... I'll be free forever after. FREE. FREE. OMFG if only I wrote my maths assignment as fast as I wrote blog posts.
Saturday, 17 November 2012
Crisis?!
Exams next week. Never mind everything else, exams. Yet in the meanwhile I'm having an existential crisis breakdown: WUT IS LYF LOL.
Okay not quite like that. Though I think it's funny I don't really have a talent for speaking hash tag yolo style. I'm not sure I wish I did, because then my friends would despise me. But who needs friends, #yolo, right? I kid, I kid. Calm down.
So it's like, one day you spend ages staring at a blank page of your maths assignment, trying to figure out how to write in full sentences because you haven't written anything decent for a whole term. No, blogging doesn't count. I don't have to worry about sentence structure when I blog- you know how incoherent I sound. Then I tilt my head one way, then the other, thinking somehow I'm reversing the gravity in my brain and I'll conjure up my writing skills from my halls of memories. It doesn't actually work, but if you're now trying it in front of your screen, you're an idiot.
Anyway I end up in bed sulking about God knows what, and I start flicking through forum posts on my phone, until I get so tired I actually fall asleep in my bed. Now that'd be fine, IF IT WASN'T MID AFTERNOON. The Sun was shining through my window, it was far too warm, but bam, my head fell and I just dozed off. I only woke because my mother was screaming in my face telling me to wake up and to have dinner. This situation sounds familiar. Oh man I wanna move out.
But heeeey exams are like almost over and unlike every other term I have TWO exams. TWO. Well, and one maths assignment to hand in, but apart from that, TWO. Neither of them are very hard. So if this was the situation of any other term I'd be smiling in my sleep because hell yeah two exams. But you get two that stage where two exams is overload. Hell, one exam is one too many. And you see me rolling around in bed going "WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE" and "WHAT IS THE POINT OF ALL THIS". Now you probably think it's too late to throw a tantrum, because "dude what the hell you're almost finished. In fact you will be after two weeks".
...And I suppose you'd be right. You know what, I'm just going to go sleep it off. Good night.
Okay not quite like that. Though I think it's funny I don't really have a talent for speaking hash tag yolo style. I'm not sure I wish I did, because then my friends would despise me. But who needs friends, #yolo, right? I kid, I kid. Calm down.
So it's like, one day you spend ages staring at a blank page of your maths assignment, trying to figure out how to write in full sentences because you haven't written anything decent for a whole term. No, blogging doesn't count. I don't have to worry about sentence structure when I blog- you know how incoherent I sound. Then I tilt my head one way, then the other, thinking somehow I'm reversing the gravity in my brain and I'll conjure up my writing skills from my halls of memories. It doesn't actually work, but if you're now trying it in front of your screen, you're an idiot.
Anyway I end up in bed sulking about God knows what, and I start flicking through forum posts on my phone, until I get so tired I actually fall asleep in my bed. Now that'd be fine, IF IT WASN'T MID AFTERNOON. The Sun was shining through my window, it was far too warm, but bam, my head fell and I just dozed off. I only woke because my mother was screaming in my face telling me to wake up and to have dinner. This situation sounds familiar. Oh man I wanna move out.
But heeeey exams are like almost over and unlike every other term I have TWO exams. TWO. Well, and one maths assignment to hand in, but apart from that, TWO. Neither of them are very hard. So if this was the situation of any other term I'd be smiling in my sleep because hell yeah two exams. But you get two that stage where two exams is overload. Hell, one exam is one too many. And you see me rolling around in bed going "WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE" and "WHAT IS THE POINT OF ALL THIS". Now you probably think it's too late to throw a tantrum, because "dude what the hell you're almost finished. In fact you will be after two weeks".
...And I suppose you'd be right. You know what, I'm just going to go sleep it off. Good night.
Friday, 16 November 2012
ANNARASUMANARA
What's with the strange title, you ask? Well, it's the title of the manhwa which I just finished reading. It's Korean (obviously, since I referred to it as manhwa), and it's the most thought-provoking thing I've read in a loooong time. I'm used to drowning myself in comics where the protagonist becomes all-powerful, demonstrating his abilities through millions of sword fights or w/e. Therefore Annarasumanara was something entirely new to me.
The plot speaks of a mysterious magician who asks people whether they believe in magic. Ai, a girl living in poverty, juggles the fantasy which the magician creates for her and the harsh reality that is her life. Now at this point you're probably thinking "GAAAAAAAAAAAY" and I don't blame you, this doesn't sound like teenager reading material. Despite this, the themes present in the manhwa is just so beautifully sophisticated, and so very relevant to what I face in my life right now.
I guess I can't say much without spoiling the story for you. Though most of you won't be bothered, for those of you who can spare a night to read, please do. There are few things in the world which can cause my heart to wrench (I am in no way insinuating that I am cold-blooded), but this is one of them.
And because I know you're a lazy-ass, here's the link.
[Annarasumanara]
Read, goddammit.
The plot speaks of a mysterious magician who asks people whether they believe in magic. Ai, a girl living in poverty, juggles the fantasy which the magician creates for her and the harsh reality that is her life. Now at this point you're probably thinking "GAAAAAAAAAAAY" and I don't blame you, this doesn't sound like teenager reading material. Despite this, the themes present in the manhwa is just so beautifully sophisticated, and so very relevant to what I face in my life right now.
I guess I can't say much without spoiling the story for you. Though most of you won't be bothered, for those of you who can spare a night to read, please do. There are few things in the world which can cause my heart to wrench (I am in no way insinuating that I am cold-blooded), but this is one of them.
And because I know you're a lazy-ass, here's the link.
[Annarasumanara]
Read, goddammit.
Wednesday, 14 November 2012
Gay Marriage
Well, my 2 cents on gay marriage. Or maybe 20 cents, because I can't learn to shut up.
What is gay marriage? Essentially, marriage between a same-sex couple. And the big deal? Well, in my opinion, there is no big deal. Except some people think allowing same-sex couples to marry will disrupt social order, set a bad example for our children, infect everyone else with their gayness or cause the Sun to collide with the Earth. Whatever.
Now as often as I will call someone/something "gay", I actually have nothing against gay people. I guess I do use it in a semi-derogatory sense, and that's just me being an asshole. Same thing goes for the word "faggot". It's colloquialism we use to complain about someone/something. Rest assured, if I actually hated someone, I would go to more extreme language as opposed to "faggot".
Having been raised in a family where gender-non-conformity is frowned upon, I guess I had a hard time understanding the concept of being a homosexual. Of course to me now, it sounds so bland. What is there to understand? Two people like each other, they just happen to be both male or both female. Big whoop. So I'll make it clear here: I support LGBT rights and I believe gay marriage should be legal everywhere in the world where marriage is legal.
But because I'm a person who can consider more than my own narrow-minded perspective, I guess I'll delve into why people have problems with this whole idea. Let's look at people I know-
----------------------------------------------------
Person A: male, does not seem to vigorously protest against homosexuality, though he is uncomfortable with the idea, because frankly to him, being that intimate with another man is a disgusting idea.
Person B: female, is vehemently anti-homosexual because she believes it upsets the balance of this world. Apparently everything is comprised of the yin and the yang, and 2 yangs just doesn't work, seen by how 2 men can't have children. Though I'd say that was more due to their lack of an uterus and eggs as opposed to an offsetting of ying-yang dynamics.
Person C: male, does not understand what it means to be gay, apart from the most literal definition. Thought someone was gay because they wore earrings, spent the next month worrying about that someone being attracted to him, because they had to share living space. Was finally convinced by a female colleague that "wearing earrings doesn't mean he's gay, and even if he was gay he's still a nice guy, and most likely not attracted to you."
Person D: female, cannot handle debatable topics such as legalization of gay marriage. Is a strict conformist to conservative societal norms, has a very clear understanding of gender roles, characterizations and stereotypes, and does not like anything outside those boundaries.
-------------------------------------------------------
And I grew up in an environment surrounded by these 4 character types, A, B, C, and D. I think it's quite a wonder that I turned out to be someone who supports gay marriage. You could attribute it to the Western education, but I think it was something else.
I'd learned to use the computer from a young age. Since when I was 12 I was on the net reading novels, and it's something I continue to do now. I think I accidentally stumbled into a novel where the protagonist was male, and his partner was also male. I didn't think much of it back then, what I had wanted was a novel with magic and sword fights, so I totally didn't anticipate it when the two hopped into a hot spring and started having sex. I mean, I was 12. I didn't even understand that they were having sex. They kind of skip that in sex education.
I think it was my lack of understanding--- or maybe it was just my peculiar nature--- but I didn't find the incident in any way upsetting. I went back to reading whatever else I had liked before, but now I have opened up an unexplored concept in my brain. The one thing I'd like you to note is--- I didn't think of it as something disgusting, foreign or strange- which appears to be most people's problem. When I was that young I guess I found the whole concept of sex rather appalling- why is it that everyone is so keen to participate in this exchange of body fluids using the most awkward parts of our bodies? Perhaps it was because I had been so dismissive towards it, that it never occurred to me.
Then I realise: it is not in our nature--- or at least it was not in my nature, to condemn homosexual acts as disgusting or unnatural. Therefore... I propose that this whole concept of homophobia is just a social construct, invented by humans to make life more difficult, because we're all such spiteful people anyway. Flipping a few pages in a historical textbook, you will realise that homosexuality was present in all parts of the world, from China to Britain. Aaaand it goes back a looooong time. Now Westernization has done a great amount of good for China, but the introduction of homophobia was NOT one of them. I don't believe people were quite as jumpy as they were before the concept of homophobia was introduced, looking at the historical documentation.
But you can argue that history isn't always accurate blah blah blah. I still hold on to my suspicions that homophobia is a social construct. You know what--- it's not even a proper phobia. The way I see it, it's just uneducated people being uneducated or educated people being complete and utter dicks.
It is my honest opinion that being gay isn't much different to being heterosexual- you just like someone of the same sex as you. So you like girls? Would you fall in love with any random girl? No? Then I guess you should apply the same logic to gay people. Just because they're gay doesn't mean they like every man out there, so there's no need to distance yourself. And if you are the kind of person to maintain a 5m radius around someone who is gay, well, you definitely have no need to worry about anyone liking you, ever.
I suppose for some of us the idea of being homosexual will seem forever detestable, but no one is asking you to be gay. Hell, no one is even asking for approval. I guess what people want in the end is for others to stop being discriminatory dicks, and just let people get on with their lives.
Though retards will forever remain in our world.
Which reminds me of that organisation: Westbro Baptist Church, was it? They're the people who picket the funerals of soldiers and lob around signs saying "THANK GOD FOR DEAD SOLDIERS" and "GOD HATES FAGS". Not that I'm strictly religious, but to my understanding, God loves everyone, even the sinners. It doesn't take much to hate, but it does take God Almighty to be able to love unconditionally. So if God did in fact hate anyone or anything--- well, I figure they members of the Westbro Baptist Church would burn in Hell before anything else.
They say WBC does this to "troll" and to gain publicity. That, is not trolling. That's more like a violation of human rights--- rights to be left the fuck alone when your son dies in service for his country. I never realised people could be so outrageously disgusting. That aside, I wish I could study the psychology behind their behavior. Would be rather interesting.
Well it seems like I've ranted on and on. There is quite a lot to talk about. I'm still fascinated by how much drama and social tension this simple thing caused. While all this drama is causing me to slowly lose faith in humanity, I remain optimistic of a better future.
Oh and, watch this:
What is gay marriage? Essentially, marriage between a same-sex couple. And the big deal? Well, in my opinion, there is no big deal. Except some people think allowing same-sex couples to marry will disrupt social order, set a bad example for our children, infect everyone else with their gayness or cause the Sun to collide with the Earth. Whatever.
Now as often as I will call someone/something "gay", I actually have nothing against gay people. I guess I do use it in a semi-derogatory sense, and that's just me being an asshole. Same thing goes for the word "faggot". It's colloquialism we use to complain about someone/something. Rest assured, if I actually hated someone, I would go to more extreme language as opposed to "faggot".
Having been raised in a family where gender-non-conformity is frowned upon, I guess I had a hard time understanding the concept of being a homosexual. Of course to me now, it sounds so bland. What is there to understand? Two people like each other, they just happen to be both male or both female. Big whoop. So I'll make it clear here: I support LGBT rights and I believe gay marriage should be legal everywhere in the world where marriage is legal.
But because I'm a person who can consider more than my own narrow-minded perspective, I guess I'll delve into why people have problems with this whole idea. Let's look at people I know-
----------------------------------------------------
Person A: male, does not seem to vigorously protest against homosexuality, though he is uncomfortable with the idea, because frankly to him, being that intimate with another man is a disgusting idea.
Person B: female, is vehemently anti-homosexual because she believes it upsets the balance of this world. Apparently everything is comprised of the yin and the yang, and 2 yangs just doesn't work, seen by how 2 men can't have children. Though I'd say that was more due to their lack of an uterus and eggs as opposed to an offsetting of ying-yang dynamics.
Person C: male, does not understand what it means to be gay, apart from the most literal definition. Thought someone was gay because they wore earrings, spent the next month worrying about that someone being attracted to him, because they had to share living space. Was finally convinced by a female colleague that "wearing earrings doesn't mean he's gay, and even if he was gay he's still a nice guy, and most likely not attracted to you."
Person D: female, cannot handle debatable topics such as legalization of gay marriage. Is a strict conformist to conservative societal norms, has a very clear understanding of gender roles, characterizations and stereotypes, and does not like anything outside those boundaries.
-------------------------------------------------------
And I grew up in an environment surrounded by these 4 character types, A, B, C, and D. I think it's quite a wonder that I turned out to be someone who supports gay marriage. You could attribute it to the Western education, but I think it was something else.
I'd learned to use the computer from a young age. Since when I was 12 I was on the net reading novels, and it's something I continue to do now. I think I accidentally stumbled into a novel where the protagonist was male, and his partner was also male. I didn't think much of it back then, what I had wanted was a novel with magic and sword fights, so I totally didn't anticipate it when the two hopped into a hot spring and started having sex. I mean, I was 12. I didn't even understand that they were having sex. They kind of skip that in sex education.
And I was probably more engrossed by condom balloons
I think it was my lack of understanding--- or maybe it was just my peculiar nature--- but I didn't find the incident in any way upsetting. I went back to reading whatever else I had liked before, but now I have opened up an unexplored concept in my brain. The one thing I'd like you to note is--- I didn't think of it as something disgusting, foreign or strange- which appears to be most people's problem. When I was that young I guess I found the whole concept of sex rather appalling- why is it that everyone is so keen to participate in this exchange of body fluids using the most awkward parts of our bodies? Perhaps it was because I had been so dismissive towards it, that it never occurred to me.
Then I realise: it is not in our nature--- or at least it was not in my nature, to condemn homosexual acts as disgusting or unnatural. Therefore... I propose that this whole concept of homophobia is just a social construct, invented by humans to make life more difficult, because we're all such spiteful people anyway. Flipping a few pages in a historical textbook, you will realise that homosexuality was present in all parts of the world, from China to Britain. Aaaand it goes back a looooong time. Now Westernization has done a great amount of good for China, but the introduction of homophobia was NOT one of them. I don't believe people were quite as jumpy as they were before the concept of homophobia was introduced, looking at the historical documentation.
But you can argue that history isn't always accurate blah blah blah. I still hold on to my suspicions that homophobia is a social construct. You know what--- it's not even a proper phobia. The way I see it, it's just uneducated people being uneducated or educated people being complete and utter dicks.
It is my honest opinion that being gay isn't much different to being heterosexual- you just like someone of the same sex as you. So you like girls? Would you fall in love with any random girl? No? Then I guess you should apply the same logic to gay people. Just because they're gay doesn't mean they like every man out there, so there's no need to distance yourself. And if you are the kind of person to maintain a 5m radius around someone who is gay, well, you definitely have no need to worry about anyone liking you, ever.
I suppose for some of us the idea of being homosexual will seem forever detestable, but no one is asking you to be gay. Hell, no one is even asking for approval. I guess what people want in the end is for others to stop being discriminatory dicks, and just let people get on with their lives.
Though retards will forever remain in our world.
Which reminds me of that organisation: Westbro Baptist Church, was it? They're the people who picket the funerals of soldiers and lob around signs saying "THANK GOD FOR DEAD SOLDIERS" and "GOD HATES FAGS". Not that I'm strictly religious, but to my understanding, God loves everyone, even the sinners. It doesn't take much to hate, but it does take God Almighty to be able to love unconditionally. So if God did in fact hate anyone or anything--- well, I figure they members of the Westbro Baptist Church would burn in Hell before anything else.
And how fucked up do you have to be, to do this to your kid^
They say WBC does this to "troll" and to gain publicity. That, is not trolling. That's more like a violation of human rights--- rights to be left the fuck alone when your son dies in service for his country. I never realised people could be so outrageously disgusting. That aside, I wish I could study the psychology behind their behavior. Would be rather interesting.
Well it seems like I've ranted on and on. There is quite a lot to talk about. I'm still fascinated by how much drama and social tension this simple thing caused. While all this drama is causing me to slowly lose faith in humanity, I remain optimistic of a better future.
Oh and, watch this:
http://www.collegehumor.com/video/6846855/gay-men-will-marry-your-girlfriends
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
Me; Wonderfully Difficult
Okay, I'm snapping out of my semi-sentimental faggoty mood. But let me tell you what happened.
So it all started that day when I got rejected by my two week crush. No big deal, but it must have been more crushing than I thought (see wut i did thar). I moped for about 2 days and made sounds of lamentation which was probably closer to a moaning whale. Then the preparations for prom/formal/social/whatever you call it, I'm going to refer to it as formal--- came about. There was the fact that I didn't want to go, then coupled with the fact that I didn't have a date. More reason to not want to go. Remember me telling you about someone who I thought liked me? No no, they actually exist. I didn't invent this to make myself feel better about being rejected--- hah, can you imagine:
"And right after I was rejected, these faaaaaabulous half-naked babes ushered me onto a private jet, which flew us to Hawaii. Then I had sex with every single celebrity I've ever liked on a Hawaiian beach, and I sent a postcard to that ex-crush of mine, saying 'Fuck you, non-literally, because I'm too busy fucking everyone else who is waaaaay more attractive than you' "
So anyway back to the person who liked me--- the reason I don't like them back is because they're kind of a loser:
Them: Hey you still goin' to the formal?
Me: Yes.
Them: Do you have a date?
Me: No.
Them: What happened? You said you had one before.
Me: They're not going to the formal.
Them: Aw that sucks. I really don't want to go. None of my friends are going and I have nowhere to sit, and I don't have a date. FOREVER ALONE. I'm such a failure and loser and etc, etc. (No no, they actually said that, about themselves. No joke.)
And at this point they're looking at me with these big sparkly eyes, and I swear they've got "ask me, ask me, ask me" written all over their face.
Me: Uhm... sorry, but our table is kind of full.
Them: Aw damn. Well I'm going to see if I can not-come to the formal, because yeah I HAVE NO ONE TO GO WITH AND NO ONE WANTS TO BE WITH ME. *replay the "I'm such a loser" speech*
Me: ...Well you have fun with that. I'm off.
And with that I fled.
I sort of (but not really) hated myself afterwards, because I was sad over not having a date, but then if I think about it I seriously just pushed one out the window. That's when I realise I'd rather look like a complete and utter loner rather than go with them. I figure I'll just... stand next to attractive people on the night so people think we're together. Hooray for shameless tactics.
Then over that course of time I had a bad day formal shopping with my mother, argued with Dad about God knows what, I don't even remember. I think it was during that period also when I got emailed tonnes of rejection letters from various med schools telling me my UMAT wasn't high enough, reconfirming Dad's adamant beliefs about me having completely and utterly failed the UMAT, thus inspiring further rage from him and generating more topics of debate for future disagreements between him and I. Wow, that was a long sentence.
Pfft, and don't get me started on my mother's stupid fucking homework.
Then on top of it all I became increasingly anti-social, needing time alone to sulk and wallow in misery. I'd sit in the library trying or pretending to do maths, instead of spending time with my wonderfully bizarre friends. I stopped going to badminton, almost never felt like playing cards (once my favorite pastime) and started drawing depressing images and ink-rolling my unhappiness all over this blog. But I'm qualified to do that, this IS my blog.
But hey welcome to the present, where I officially declare that "I'm snapping out of my semi-sentimental faggoty mood." May the world (or just my readers) rejoice.
*Disclaimer*
No promises on when I will relapse into a shitty mood. But hey, at least I'll tell you allllll about it. ;)
So it all started that day when I got rejected by my two week crush. No big deal, but it must have been more crushing than I thought (see wut i did thar). I moped for about 2 days and made sounds of lamentation which was probably closer to a moaning whale. Then the preparations for prom/formal/social/whatever you call it, I'm going to refer to it as formal--- came about. There was the fact that I didn't want to go, then coupled with the fact that I didn't have a date. More reason to not want to go. Remember me telling you about someone who I thought liked me? No no, they actually exist. I didn't invent this to make myself feel better about being rejected--- hah, can you imagine:
"And right after I was rejected, these faaaaaabulous half-naked babes ushered me onto a private jet, which flew us to Hawaii. Then I had sex with every single celebrity I've ever liked on a Hawaiian beach, and I sent a postcard to that ex-crush of mine, saying 'Fuck you, non-literally, because I'm too busy fucking everyone else who is waaaaay more attractive than you' "
.
.
.
.
.
.
SEEMS LEGIT.
So anyway back to the person who liked me--- the reason I don't like them back is because they're kind of a loser:
Them: Hey you still goin' to the formal?
Me: Yes.
Them: Do you have a date?
Me: No.
Them: What happened? You said you had one before.
Me: They're not going to the formal.
Them: Aw that sucks. I really don't want to go. None of my friends are going and I have nowhere to sit, and I don't have a date. FOREVER ALONE. I'm such a failure and loser and etc, etc. (No no, they actually said that, about themselves. No joke.)
And at this point they're looking at me with these big sparkly eyes, and I swear they've got "ask me, ask me, ask me" written all over their face.
Me: Uhm... sorry, but our table is kind of full.
Them: Aw damn. Well I'm going to see if I can not-come to the formal, because yeah I HAVE NO ONE TO GO WITH AND NO ONE WANTS TO BE WITH ME. *replay the "I'm such a loser" speech*
Me: ...Well you have fun with that. I'm off.
And with that I fled.
I sort of (but not really) hated myself afterwards, because I was sad over not having a date, but then if I think about it I seriously just pushed one out the window. That's when I realise I'd rather look like a complete and utter loner rather than go with them. I figure I'll just... stand next to attractive people on the night so people think we're together. Hooray for shameless tactics.
Then over that course of time I had a bad day formal shopping with my mother, argued with Dad about God knows what, I don't even remember. I think it was during that period also when I got emailed tonnes of rejection letters from various med schools telling me my UMAT wasn't high enough, reconfirming Dad's adamant beliefs about me having completely and utterly failed the UMAT, thus inspiring further rage from him and generating more topics of debate for future disagreements between him and I. Wow, that was a long sentence.
Pfft, and don't get me started on my mother's stupid fucking homework.
Then on top of it all I became increasingly anti-social, needing time alone to sulk and wallow in misery. I'd sit in the library trying or pretending to do maths, instead of spending time with my wonderfully bizarre friends. I stopped going to badminton, almost never felt like playing cards (once my favorite pastime) and started drawing depressing images and ink-rolling my unhappiness all over this blog. But I'm qualified to do that, this IS my blog.
But hey welcome to the present, where I officially declare that "I'm snapping out of my semi-sentimental faggoty mood." May the world (or just my readers) rejoice.
*Disclaimer*
No promises on when I will relapse into a shitty mood. But hey, at least I'll tell you allllll about it. ;)
Bright Star
Outside my window I can spot a single star. It's quite peculiar, because I thought on a cloudless night such as this, the sky would be littered with stars. Yet there is only one lonely glow. At first I thought it was a plane, but that should have passed by now.
I wonder what it's doing, glued to the sky. It's as if someone had forgotten it, left it behind and never realised their loss--- or perhaps realised and simply didn't care. And I wonder, who would be there to catch it, when that star fell? Perhaps we'd all grab the edges of our pockets and make a wish, but that is all we would do. When the bright star is deposed of its lonely heavenly throne, when it tumbles through the night sky and sinks into the darkness beyond the stretch of our sight--- what then?
I'd like to imagine that there is a pair of hands, outstretched, ready to receive the star's fall. Somewhere, perhaps in the desolate countryside, or perhaps in the centre of an old city, will be someone offering their hands. Be those hands innocent and pure, or bloodied and tainted--- it does not matter.
Because the star might have its own wish too--- a wish to be caught by someone; anyone. Whatever the reason, be it simple altruism or concealed greed- perhaps all that a star needs is the warmth of 37 degrees Celsius, to surround it gently in the dark, cold... and most lonely night.
I wonder what it's doing, glued to the sky. It's as if someone had forgotten it, left it behind and never realised their loss--- or perhaps realised and simply didn't care. And I wonder, who would be there to catch it, when that star fell? Perhaps we'd all grab the edges of our pockets and make a wish, but that is all we would do. When the bright star is deposed of its lonely heavenly throne, when it tumbles through the night sky and sinks into the darkness beyond the stretch of our sight--- what then?
I'd like to imagine that there is a pair of hands, outstretched, ready to receive the star's fall. Somewhere, perhaps in the desolate countryside, or perhaps in the centre of an old city, will be someone offering their hands. Be those hands innocent and pure, or bloodied and tainted--- it does not matter.
Because the star might have its own wish too--- a wish to be caught by someone; anyone. Whatever the reason, be it simple altruism or concealed greed- perhaps all that a star needs is the warmth of 37 degrees Celsius, to surround it gently in the dark, cold... and most lonely night.
Sunday, 11 November 2012
Job Hunt
Due to my lazy nature, I have stopped working for almost a year and as a result my supply of money is running low. Maybe it's just bad management on my part, but for every friend's birthday I spend $20, then for every time I go out to eat I spend $20. I found a surprisingly large amount of books which I've purchased over the past year- and it would sum up to at least $200. Then there's the loose money which went to charities, vending machines, hot chocolate in the morning and various stationery. Oh, then I had to pay for bus fares and registration fee of my driver's license. It was a lot...
Anyway, the point of that rant was to tell you that I need a job, and I need one desperately. I managed to break my DS last night whilst playing Kingdom Hearts. Here's the story- my L-key was unresponsive, and as a result I got smashed by the boss Cloud Strife 5 times in a row. By the end of it I was so sick of this fucking bullshit that I decided to fix my L-key. And by fix I mean clean out the dust or w/e which had clogged up inside the DS. So I got a paperclip, and wedged it into my L-key. Good news: my L-key is now sensitive as usual, and I beat the boss. Bad news, I totally destroyed the top screen of my DS because I managed to probe some part of my DS with the paperclip which did something or rather.
So I need a new DS. Since my DS is rather ancient anyway, I figured, hey, why don't I just get one of those new ones? It'd actually be so hard to find a version of my DS right now, because it's like, half a century old. Now I'd probably want a 3DS, despite not actually caring about the 3D component, so it's compatible with all the 3DS game I may want to play. Then there comes the problem of my R4, because it is the original R4, and I am preeeetty sure it won't work on the 3DS. Which means I either have to get a different card, or buy all my games. Either way, it all comes back to the money.
Now to my job hunt- after spending roughly 20min on the internet, I realise I was largely unqualified for most jobs which required enthusiasm, dedication and open communication. Alright, maybe I can handle the communication part. The rest is blergh. Though the job requirements seem difficult to fulfill, I disregarded them all and applied for everything I deemed as tolerable. I mean, if you think about it, there are not that many people out there in the world who are actually enthusiastic and dedicated about their Christmas casual job. Yet all these people manage to get one. Therefore this must be your usual employer jargon, and in response I will write that I am a highly enthusiastic and dedicated person who is looking forward to making valuable contributions to their wonderful team of whatever. Hopefully they respond quickly.
After all, what better way to prepare for interviews, other than to have a million of them?
Anyway, the point of that rant was to tell you that I need a job, and I need one desperately. I managed to break my DS last night whilst playing Kingdom Hearts. Here's the story- my L-key was unresponsive, and as a result I got smashed by the boss Cloud Strife 5 times in a row. By the end of it I was so sick of this fucking bullshit that I decided to fix my L-key. And by fix I mean clean out the dust or w/e which had clogged up inside the DS. So I got a paperclip, and wedged it into my L-key. Good news: my L-key is now sensitive as usual, and I beat the boss. Bad news, I totally destroyed the top screen of my DS because I managed to probe some part of my DS with the paperclip which did something or rather.
So I need a new DS. Since my DS is rather ancient anyway, I figured, hey, why don't I just get one of those new ones? It'd actually be so hard to find a version of my DS right now, because it's like, half a century old. Now I'd probably want a 3DS, despite not actually caring about the 3D component, so it's compatible with all the 3DS game I may want to play. Then there comes the problem of my R4, because it is the original R4, and I am preeeetty sure it won't work on the 3DS. Which means I either have to get a different card, or buy all my games. Either way, it all comes back to the money.
Now to my job hunt- after spending roughly 20min on the internet, I realise I was largely unqualified for most jobs which required enthusiasm, dedication and open communication. Alright, maybe I can handle the communication part. The rest is blergh. Though the job requirements seem difficult to fulfill, I disregarded them all and applied for everything I deemed as tolerable. I mean, if you think about it, there are not that many people out there in the world who are actually enthusiastic and dedicated about their Christmas casual job. Yet all these people manage to get one. Therefore this must be your usual employer jargon, and in response I will write that I am a highly enthusiastic and dedicated person who is looking forward to making valuable contributions to their wonderful team of whatever. Hopefully they respond quickly.
After all, what better way to prepare for interviews, other than to have a million of them?
Saturday, 10 November 2012
Everything I've Been Through
It's hard to imagine that though I only have another 2 weeks of school to go, I'm becoming increasingly restless. All of a sudden I realise there are a million things to do despite my 4 classes, and it is becoming quite a pain. Work has stacked up as usual, and this time it is because I decided to draw/talk/play Kingdom Hearts in my free time instead of doing my work. And fair enough, I'll say. Satisfaction from getting good grades is overrated.
Now logically the thing I should prioritise right now is preparing for my med interviews. I have to travel interstate, and I figured that it will cost something like $800 dollars in total to attend my interviews. Actually, when I think about it that way, it's no big deal. My parents have spent their money on stupider things. I guess it'll be awkward to fail after so much investment--- I mean, the shit I went through to try and get into med school. The constant bombardment from my parents to "get a better ATAR", because 98 point something simply wasn't good enough. Then being harassed to study for the UMAT, actually studying for the UMAT, then under-performing anyway because I walked in with an ugly mood. That's nothing--- unless you include all the shit that came with it afterwards- parents being complete and utter assholes about my "failure of a score", the millions of arguments and scoldings I endured, and then getting kicked out of the house because of UMAT. Consequently catching a cold because I was wandering around early morning, taking a week to recover, only to have my mother tell me that I haven't done her homework for her.
But that's long gone. Let's look at the present. Organising travel was much harder than I imagined, but it was manageable, given that my friend helped me. Dad proposed to drive me to my interview, and I denied him faster than you can say "fuck no". Then Mum offered to travel with me, and while that's more tolerable--- I'd still rather travelling alone, getting lost in the middle of nowhere as opposed to going with her. Perhaps it's because freedom is so close, that every extra day becomes an aching pain.
But that's okay. I'll live. After all, I've planned so many happy activities for the upcoming holidays. Once I leave this goddamn place, life will start over, and I promise I will be a happier person.
Now logically the thing I should prioritise right now is preparing for my med interviews. I have to travel interstate, and I figured that it will cost something like $800 dollars in total to attend my interviews. Actually, when I think about it that way, it's no big deal. My parents have spent their money on stupider things. I guess it'll be awkward to fail after so much investment--- I mean, the shit I went through to try and get into med school. The constant bombardment from my parents to "get a better ATAR", because 98 point something simply wasn't good enough. Then being harassed to study for the UMAT, actually studying for the UMAT, then under-performing anyway because I walked in with an ugly mood. That's nothing--- unless you include all the shit that came with it afterwards- parents being complete and utter assholes about my "failure of a score", the millions of arguments and scoldings I endured, and then getting kicked out of the house because of UMAT. Consequently catching a cold because I was wandering around early morning, taking a week to recover, only to have my mother tell me that I haven't done her homework for her.
But that's long gone. Let's look at the present. Organising travel was much harder than I imagined, but it was manageable, given that my friend helped me. Dad proposed to drive me to my interview, and I denied him faster than you can say "fuck no". Then Mum offered to travel with me, and while that's more tolerable--- I'd still rather travelling alone, getting lost in the middle of nowhere as opposed to going with her. Perhaps it's because freedom is so close, that every extra day becomes an aching pain.
But that's okay. I'll live. After all, I've planned so many happy activities for the upcoming holidays. Once I leave this goddamn place, life will start over, and I promise I will be a happier person.
Friday, 9 November 2012
Friday Nights
I feel as if I've gone back to high school, where I took an unproductive Friday night for granted. If I don't get anything done on Friday? Oh well. Friday was dedicated to gaming/reading/talking on MSN. And that's essentially what I've done since getting home this afternoon. It feels good.
I've missed having this much time to waste.
On a completely unrelated note, I need a hair cut. My hair is despicably long right now, and up to now I have never had to deal with hair this irritating. Though for various reason I cannot get a hair cut until early December, it still frustrates me deeply. As a result I am making a conscious effort to plan everything in mid to late December, where I will have my hair cut, and I can venture outside without feeling strangely self-conscious about the hair covering my eyes and itching my neck.
I've missed having this much time to waste.
On a completely unrelated note, I need a hair cut. My hair is despicably long right now, and up to now I have never had to deal with hair this irritating. Though for various reason I cannot get a hair cut until early December, it still frustrates me deeply. As a result I am making a conscious effort to plan everything in mid to late December, where I will have my hair cut, and I can venture outside without feeling strangely self-conscious about the hair covering my eyes and itching my neck.
Thursday, 8 November 2012
The Only Way Left Is Up
It's amazing how drastically your day can change if you make a conscious effort to stop being a complete pain in the ass. That, is my only thought on this day.
A Conversation With Myself
The following is a conversation between myself and the voice in my head. Though I cannot say they are two separate entities, at least it sounds better than "I'm talking to myself".
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Me: Do I whine too much?
Him: Yes.
Me: Should I stop?
Him: Most definitely.
Me: But it makes me feel uncomfortable if I wallow in my own misery.
Him: It's not like talking about it helps. As you've noticed, nobody else understands, except for me.
Me: You are technically me. So it's like, nobody understands me, except for me.
Him: Wouldn't that be the natural conclusion? But maybe I'm being too harsh. There will be somebody who
understands, out there. Just not anyone you've tried talking to about those kind of things.
Me: Am I essentially talking to the wrong people?
Him: That's what I'm getting at. Think about it this way: why do you even expect them to understand?
Me: Well uh... idk. But on TV and in those info brochures they say telling a friend about your troubles relieves stress.
Him: And just how fucking naive are you? What are you, fucking 2?
Me: I just don't see why---
Him: Why don't you use that brain of yours and think, for fuck's sake. With how many of these people are you able to hold intellectually stimulating conversations? Haven't you realised that when you try to get all serious about a touchy-feely subject, they try to dismiss it? They're not trained to put up with your bullshit---they're a bunch of school kids, not your therapist. Don't just dump your crap on anyone who comes along---have some fucking self-control.
Me: Okay.
Him: Look, there are 2 kinds of people. People you tell things to, and people you DON'T tell things to. If you just learn to shut your mouth, things will be alright. Some of them--- for God's sake, OBVIOUSLY cannot think on the same sophisticated level as you. No, that's not me being egotistical, it's a hard truth. They cannot mentally comprehend it. It's not a character flaw, they just physically cannot understand. Maybe they lack the experience, or maybe they lack the mental stimulation required to "get" these sort of things.
Me: I think they're intelligent people...
Him: I'm not talking about intelligence. I'm talking about cognitive empathy and communication skills. They don't have enough to satisfy your needs.
Me: Well then. This is a depressing conclusion to reach.
Him: Which is why I said it'd be easier to just shut your mouth. And stop being a pansy. All those things you claim to be worrying about--- why don't you just fucking get over it?
Me: I can't.
Him: Now that's YOUR problem, isn't it? Which goes all the way back to "don't dump your shit on other people". It's not their problem, it's YOURS, and YOU have the responsibility.
Me: I don't like where this conversation is going.
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Which is precisely why I stopped talking to him. I guess it's useful to talk to your inner voice once in a while, and get things straight. Only then can I truly evaluate my own thoughts and feelings, and understand exactly what it is I am looking for.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Me: Do I whine too much?
Him: Yes.
Me: Should I stop?
Him: Most definitely.
Me: But it makes me feel uncomfortable if I wallow in my own misery.
Him: It's not like talking about it helps. As you've noticed, nobody else understands, except for me.
Me: You are technically me. So it's like, nobody understands me, except for me.
Him: Wouldn't that be the natural conclusion? But maybe I'm being too harsh. There will be somebody who
understands, out there. Just not anyone you've tried talking to about those kind of things.
Me: Am I essentially talking to the wrong people?
Him: That's what I'm getting at. Think about it this way: why do you even expect them to understand?
Me: Well uh... idk. But on TV and in those info brochures they say telling a friend about your troubles relieves stress.
Him: And just how fucking naive are you? What are you, fucking 2?
Me: I just don't see why---
Him: Why don't you use that brain of yours and think, for fuck's sake. With how many of these people are you able to hold intellectually stimulating conversations? Haven't you realised that when you try to get all serious about a touchy-feely subject, they try to dismiss it? They're not trained to put up with your bullshit---they're a bunch of school kids, not your therapist. Don't just dump your crap on anyone who comes along---have some fucking self-control.
Me: Okay.
Him: Look, there are 2 kinds of people. People you tell things to, and people you DON'T tell things to. If you just learn to shut your mouth, things will be alright. Some of them--- for God's sake, OBVIOUSLY cannot think on the same sophisticated level as you. No, that's not me being egotistical, it's a hard truth. They cannot mentally comprehend it. It's not a character flaw, they just physically cannot understand. Maybe they lack the experience, or maybe they lack the mental stimulation required to "get" these sort of things.
Me: I think they're intelligent people...
Him: I'm not talking about intelligence. I'm talking about cognitive empathy and communication skills. They don't have enough to satisfy your needs.
Me: Well then. This is a depressing conclusion to reach.
Him: Which is why I said it'd be easier to just shut your mouth. And stop being a pansy. All those things you claim to be worrying about--- why don't you just fucking get over it?
Me: I can't.
Him: Now that's YOUR problem, isn't it? Which goes all the way back to "don't dump your shit on other people". It's not their problem, it's YOURS, and YOU have the responsibility.
Me: I don't like where this conversation is going.
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Which is precisely why I stopped talking to him. I guess it's useful to talk to your inner voice once in a while, and get things straight. Only then can I truly evaluate my own thoughts and feelings, and understand exactly what it is I am looking for.
Tuesday, 6 November 2012
More about med
Phew, I finally got an interview for the million med schools I applied for. No, don't say congrats, it's not worth it. I'm not nearly as happy as I should be, which is very, very strange. Due to my ever-so-annoying father, I applied to almost every single med school in this country. Over the past month all I've gotten is rejection letters, from almost everywhere. Not that I cared, except it was pushing Dad over the edge. Lucky for me that the girl my family likes to compare me to didn't do very well on her UMAT--- eh look at me, rejoicing in the misery of others. Still, I cannot deny my gratefulness for that fact, otherwise life would be more intolerable than it is now.
So at this point I should probably feel rather smug about my interview preparations, because I had the foresight to prepare early. Except reality hurts. I still think it was a colossal waste of time. Though I am convinced that I have the ability to pass these interviews, I am not arrogant enough to say that I will pass. I need to think of alternate pathways to get out of this house if I can't travel interstate for med.
Truth be told, getting this interview brought more relief than joy. Maybe my Dad will shut the fuck up for a couple of days. If that's all it buys, I still consider it a good deal. As for the stress it brings... meh. Pass or fail, I'll give it my best shot, because seriously, fuck this supposed "home" of mine. Anything to get me out of here. ANYTHING.
So at this point I should probably feel rather smug about my interview preparations, because I had the foresight to prepare early. Except reality hurts. I still think it was a colossal waste of time. Though I am convinced that I have the ability to pass these interviews, I am not arrogant enough to say that I will pass. I need to think of alternate pathways to get out of this house if I can't travel interstate for med.
Truth be told, getting this interview brought more relief than joy. Maybe my Dad will shut the fuck up for a couple of days. If that's all it buys, I still consider it a good deal. As for the stress it brings... meh. Pass or fail, I'll give it my best shot, because seriously, fuck this supposed "home" of mine. Anything to get me out of here. ANYTHING.
Monday, 5 November 2012
Doomed Maths Project
Having done the final exam for one of my maths classes, there remains only the project. Usually I wouldn't fuss over a speech, but given that this is literally one of the last chances to improve my maths score, I'd rather not fuck up. To think, after this project, I'd be done with maths for... for like, forever. Well, maybe not forever, but at least it won't be compulsory any time in the near future.
So I'm flipping through a textbook which weighs roughly the same as a slab of pavement concrete, and I realise maths is one of the most boring things to give a presentation on, ever. As I browse over each topic I wonder, how can anyone, ever, possibly be interested in this crap? My classmates are forced to listen to everyone else's orals, because our teacher has decided this would be an excellent learning experience. While I do not disagree with him, I do not think it will be generally pleasant either. But that's just me being pessimistic, as I do.
Though I figure things will work out in the end, somehow. They always do.
In the meanwhile, I'm listening to this new song by One Direction. Yeah yeah, we've established last time that I'm gay for listening to One Direction. Whatever. But I really like this song. IT HAS MEANING. I was so shocked when I first heard it, because I was like, "oh holy shit this is marginally inspirational". Jokes aside, it's actually better than anything I've heard in a while, so here, listen.
So I'm flipping through a textbook which weighs roughly the same as a slab of pavement concrete, and I realise maths is one of the most boring things to give a presentation on, ever. As I browse over each topic I wonder, how can anyone, ever, possibly be interested in this crap? My classmates are forced to listen to everyone else's orals, because our teacher has decided this would be an excellent learning experience. While I do not disagree with him, I do not think it will be generally pleasant either. But that's just me being pessimistic, as I do.
Though I figure things will work out in the end, somehow. They always do.
In the meanwhile, I'm listening to this new song by One Direction. Yeah yeah, we've established last time that I'm gay for listening to One Direction. Whatever. But I really like this song. IT HAS MEANING. I was so shocked when I first heard it, because I was like, "oh holy shit this is marginally inspirational". Jokes aside, it's actually better than anything I've heard in a while, so here, listen.
Sunday, 4 November 2012
Plague Inc.
I was casually browsing Google Play when I found this game called Plague Inc. I wasn't unfamiliar with it, because years ago I watched a friend play it, and he found it vastly enjoyable. You create a disease, upgrade it through a menu and aim to wipe out the human race. Back then I thought it was rather boring, because I harbored a preference for action games. I don't know what changed my mind this time- perhaps the thought of destroying the world with the creation of a disease pleased my sadistic self. Whatever the reason, I downloaded it and started playing.
First run, on easy mode. I finished the game quite quickly, not realising that I had in fact lost, because my bacteria (which I named Bacties) killed everyone it had infected before it spread wide enough. I decided to play the second round on normal, and this time I manage to infect a lot more people, but a cure was devised and I lost the game. Enraged, I tried again a third time. Finally I had managed to infect the whole world, but cure development was at 90% and I had no way of stopping it. Fourth time lucky, right?
I had no idea it would be so addictive.
Then I get to a point where "Bacties" infected every single country except for Greenland, who sealed off their borders and ports. I watched the rest of the population die, but Greenland remained unaffected. Because I was a noob I rage quit the game, only to find myself replaying a 5th time 20min later. I renamed my bacteria "f.Grnland" (limited characters). I finally managed to infect all the population, and cure development was stagnant at 60%--- and the app froze. I assume it's because I overheated my phone on my previous runs. I reboot the app, only to find that the save point was before I had infected the world. I thought I could do it again, and I successfully reached Greenland--- but it was the second to last country to be infected. Philippines remained healthy with 0 infected and 0 deaths. Like Greenland previously, it had isolated itself from the rest of the world and my bacteria could not reach it.
For some reason I had the patience to wait another 5 minutes until finally it was infected through a random event. I guess there is a trick to just... keep waiting. Anyway, I won my first game ever, and I watched with a strange satisfaction as the population numbers plummeted, and statistics showed that my bacteria wiped out 60 million people per day.
Then me, being me, turned my mind onto other matters. Is this what God feels, when He watches over the Earth? Does He share the same twisted pleasure I feel? My thoughts turn gloomier as I imagine the outcome of my game carried into the real world. I had chosen to start my disease in Egypt, a country which had many contacts with others, and it bordered many poorer African countries with poorer health care. The hot climate ensured the prosperity of my disease. Then it spread like wildfire and ripped through the African nations like HIV does today. Soon it went global, and I watched news within the game, announcing that some country or other has fallen into anarchy, another has culled all livestock, and another has approved of human experimentation to find a cure. And I wondered- if this game were real, what would it bring out within us?
I browsed over upgrades to the symptoms of my disease: sneezing, coughing, rashes, paranoia, coma, internal bleeding, total organ failure, etc. To think, first you experience symptoms of the common cold (which is bad enough already), then the rashes, cysts, insomnia. Nothing fatal, yet highly irritable. Until it gets worse. Insomnia evolves into paranoia which evolves into insanity. Nausea evolves into vomiting and diarrhea. Until your body starts breaking down and you die after much suffering.
Yet that can't be the worst. The worst is to be the last healthy person on the planet, having spent the last 2 or 3 years watching everyone around you suffer an incurable disease. You know that someday you will catch it too, and judging by the news extinction of the human race is inevitable. Yet... you live healthily among these infected people, not quite knowing the day which you will also start displaying symptoms of the sickness.
Ah I think too much over a game. I should enjoy my twisted pleasures while I can. Nowhere else can I kill the human race over and over again without being condemned.
First run, on easy mode. I finished the game quite quickly, not realising that I had in fact lost, because my bacteria (which I named Bacties) killed everyone it had infected before it spread wide enough. I decided to play the second round on normal, and this time I manage to infect a lot more people, but a cure was devised and I lost the game. Enraged, I tried again a third time. Finally I had managed to infect the whole world, but cure development was at 90% and I had no way of stopping it. Fourth time lucky, right?
I had no idea it would be so addictive.
Then I get to a point where "Bacties" infected every single country except for Greenland, who sealed off their borders and ports. I watched the rest of the population die, but Greenland remained unaffected. Because I was a noob I rage quit the game, only to find myself replaying a 5th time 20min later. I renamed my bacteria "f.Grnland" (limited characters). I finally managed to infect all the population, and cure development was stagnant at 60%--- and the app froze. I assume it's because I overheated my phone on my previous runs. I reboot the app, only to find that the save point was before I had infected the world. I thought I could do it again, and I successfully reached Greenland--- but it was the second to last country to be infected. Philippines remained healthy with 0 infected and 0 deaths. Like Greenland previously, it had isolated itself from the rest of the world and my bacteria could not reach it.
For some reason I had the patience to wait another 5 minutes until finally it was infected through a random event. I guess there is a trick to just... keep waiting. Anyway, I won my first game ever, and I watched with a strange satisfaction as the population numbers plummeted, and statistics showed that my bacteria wiped out 60 million people per day.
Then me, being me, turned my mind onto other matters. Is this what God feels, when He watches over the Earth? Does He share the same twisted pleasure I feel? My thoughts turn gloomier as I imagine the outcome of my game carried into the real world. I had chosen to start my disease in Egypt, a country which had many contacts with others, and it bordered many poorer African countries with poorer health care. The hot climate ensured the prosperity of my disease. Then it spread like wildfire and ripped through the African nations like HIV does today. Soon it went global, and I watched news within the game, announcing that some country or other has fallen into anarchy, another has culled all livestock, and another has approved of human experimentation to find a cure. And I wondered- if this game were real, what would it bring out within us?
I browsed over upgrades to the symptoms of my disease: sneezing, coughing, rashes, paranoia, coma, internal bleeding, total organ failure, etc. To think, first you experience symptoms of the common cold (which is bad enough already), then the rashes, cysts, insomnia. Nothing fatal, yet highly irritable. Until it gets worse. Insomnia evolves into paranoia which evolves into insanity. Nausea evolves into vomiting and diarrhea. Until your body starts breaking down and you die after much suffering.
Yet that can't be the worst. The worst is to be the last healthy person on the planet, having spent the last 2 or 3 years watching everyone around you suffer an incurable disease. You know that someday you will catch it too, and judging by the news extinction of the human race is inevitable. Yet... you live healthily among these infected people, not quite knowing the day which you will also start displaying symptoms of the sickness.
Ah I think too much over a game. I should enjoy my twisted pleasures while I can. Nowhere else can I kill the human race over and over again without being condemned.
Saturday, 3 November 2012
A Wild Argument Appeared!
The trick with optimism is to never have any, else it will be swiftly crushed. So I'd planned a three holiday for myself, where I de-stress and get a bit of a breather. Then in the middle of it all, while I was just casually sitting on a chair chewing on a corn cob, a spontaneous argument arises.
Dad: "Why don't you set yourself some life plans, instead of letting all your time go to waste. Make your first million by the time you're 30."
I didn't respond, because I really wasn't in the mood to argue.
Dad: "Or if you think that's too hard, push it to when you're 35."
At this stage I was gritting my teeth.
Dad: "When do the university offers come? What about your med interviews? How come you didn't get one from the university you wanted?"
Then I gave up and raged. Yeah right, I'm totally going to end up as a millionaire doctor by the time I'm 30 or 35. It's not like by the time I graduate I'll be 24 or something. So what, I have 6 to 11 years of making a million dollars? Hmm, wait, that doesn't sound too bad.
IF WE LIVED IN A WORLD WHERE I DIDN'T GET TAXED, DIDN'T HAVE TO PAY FOR FOOD, HOUSING, ELECTRICITY, INTERNET, FUEL, AND WHATEVER THE FUCK ELSE I'LL NEED TO FUNCTION IN THIS PLACE.
My only hope is hyperinflation, if I ever want to see a million dollars in my savings account. Or I could say I was a millionaire in Zimbabwe.
Goddammit. I can tell Dad's just trying to push his life goals which he couldn't achieve himself on to me. And I have no intention of cooperating. He keeps on reiterating how I've never wanted for anything in life so I don't work hard enough, so I don't care about money enough, etc. etc. etc. That's why I said to him, it's precisely because I don't have to worry about survival that I'm pursuing what I actually want to do. If I lived some place where it was money or starvation, I wouldn't care what I worked. Here, I'm enjoying the freedom of choice, BECAUSE I FUCKING CAN. Isn't it a waste of opportunity, otherwise? Given my high and fancy tertiary entrance score, why don't I use it on something more interesting than business and commerce. And if I ever decide that my true calling lies in those fields, WELL I'LL CHANGE. It's not like my ATAR won't get me into whatever the fuck I want.
As for the med thing, I'm really blaming it on Dad. He says I'm not trying hard enough, and I tell him it's because I don't want it bad enough, and I'm not that desperate. He obviously is. Seeing as how I have a high ATAR and didn't fail the UMAT, why doesn't he just fucking pay some fees and enroll me in a private school, because I'm going to "fail the interviews" (which I haven't been offered) because I "didn't prepare enough".
Gah, way to ruin my Saturday.
Dad: "Why don't you set yourself some life plans, instead of letting all your time go to waste. Make your first million by the time you're 30."
I didn't respond, because I really wasn't in the mood to argue.
Dad: "Or if you think that's too hard, push it to when you're 35."
At this stage I was gritting my teeth.
Dad: "When do the university offers come? What about your med interviews? How come you didn't get one from the university you wanted?"
Then I gave up and raged. Yeah right, I'm totally going to end up as a millionaire doctor by the time I'm 30 or 35. It's not like by the time I graduate I'll be 24 or something. So what, I have 6 to 11 years of making a million dollars? Hmm, wait, that doesn't sound too bad.
IF WE LIVED IN A WORLD WHERE I DIDN'T GET TAXED, DIDN'T HAVE TO PAY FOR FOOD, HOUSING, ELECTRICITY, INTERNET, FUEL, AND WHATEVER THE FUCK ELSE I'LL NEED TO FUNCTION IN THIS PLACE.
My only hope is hyperinflation, if I ever want to see a million dollars in my savings account. Or I could say I was a millionaire in Zimbabwe.
Goddammit. I can tell Dad's just trying to push his life goals which he couldn't achieve himself on to me. And I have no intention of cooperating. He keeps on reiterating how I've never wanted for anything in life so I don't work hard enough, so I don't care about money enough, etc. etc. etc. That's why I said to him, it's precisely because I don't have to worry about survival that I'm pursuing what I actually want to do. If I lived some place where it was money or starvation, I wouldn't care what I worked. Here, I'm enjoying the freedom of choice, BECAUSE I FUCKING CAN. Isn't it a waste of opportunity, otherwise? Given my high and fancy tertiary entrance score, why don't I use it on something more interesting than business and commerce. And if I ever decide that my true calling lies in those fields, WELL I'LL CHANGE. It's not like my ATAR won't get me into whatever the fuck I want.
As for the med thing, I'm really blaming it on Dad. He says I'm not trying hard enough, and I tell him it's because I don't want it bad enough, and I'm not that desperate. He obviously is. Seeing as how I have a high ATAR and didn't fail the UMAT, why doesn't he just fucking pay some fees and enroll me in a private school, because I'm going to "fail the interviews" (which I haven't been offered) because I "didn't prepare enough".
Gah, way to ruin my Saturday.
Thursday, 1 November 2012
Breathe
Lately I feel as if I've forgotten how to breathe. I had also forgotten how liberating a couple of hours alone can feel. Oh I am so grateful that I only have one class tomorrow, and all my friends are going on some physics excursion. Then I don't have to take pains and retain at least a little civility- I can act the way I feel, and I will be at liberty to take out my miserable mood on whoever crosses me. I will rest in peace, knowing that no one I actually care about will be there to witness my atrocities. I had tonight off, then I shall have tomorrow alone as well. After that, a two day weekend to cool down, provided that my parents don't start a new drama.
The night air feels great. Deeply refreshing.
The night air feels great. Deeply refreshing.
Trivial Concerns II
Gayest night of my life, both literally and figuratively. My friend Hammy totally came out of the closet and continued to act a lot gayer than usual throughout the night, and I fucked the titration competition. I cringed because I was the only one who got silver in our group of 3 (gold for others). The sincerity in the eyes of the guy who handed me the award made me want to bash my head against a wall. FML. His congratulations felt more like a mocking insult.
Look, it was a good night... sort of. I don't know. The fact that I kinda fucked it over for my group makes me feel a little bad. My error was 50k while everyone else was <200. If I could've made it into the <200 region our team would be second overall as opposed to 5th. Not that my teammates are actually giving me any shit for it, and I don't exactly feel guilty. I just feel... bad. Unhappy. Not the “I am at fault” kind of self-condemnation, I'm just... not happy.
Actually, I've been feeling that way a lot lately. No, no I'm not depressed. I need to feel like complete and utter shit for two weeks before it can be diagnosed as clinical depression.
I've finally figured out what's wrong. Nothing major is actually wrong.... it's just EVERY FUCKING SMALL THING IN LIFE ALL PILED UP TOGETHER. Individually, I can't say I care very much, but when you add one thing then another, it pushes my bounds of my mental stability. My "trivial concerns" are becoming overwhelming.
1. The formal. The whole date thing. I can't get over how I can't get over it.
2. Still the formal. The fact that I don't want to go for various reasons.
3. My friends being excited about a certain aspect of me actually attending the formal, and me being completely and utterly disgusted at their excitement. It's bad because they're my friends. BUT NO ONE UNDERSTANDS. FUCKING NO ONE. NO ONE. Some will pretend to, and try and argue with me. But the fact that they keep on telling me "it'll be fun!" convinces me further that THEY DON'T EVEN FUCKING KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. And I can't tell them. I don't know how to be more blatant than what I've already said and the way I'm acting. I guess people are bad at taking hints, or I'm too vague. Either way, it's not working, and I've given up on the subject with them. To put it in simplest terms? I have issues. No, that's not a joke. I actually do. If people don't understand, I don't want to make them understand. It shouldn't be this way.
...I need to talk to someone older. Much, much more older. I guess this is one of those rare moments where only a parental figure is appropriate, but all my mother does is yell back at me in a high-pitched voice. Dad? As far as I'm concerned, I have no father. Then it's like, oh shit I actually don't trust anyone. Never mind.
4. I'm failing chemistry. No, not an Asian fail, I'm actually failing the classes. All these stupid lab reports which we had to hand in, I HAD NO IDEA HOW TO COMPLETE. Why? Because our teacher didn't teach us shit. And when he did, HE TAUGHT IT WRONG. Then the new teacher we got, he expects me to know all this crap to do with physics, and while the rest of the class understands, I DON'T. AND HE DOESN'T CARE. My scores are BELOW AVERAGE.
5. Physics. Every single fucking one of my friends do physics. Fuck physics. I hate that class for a reason. "Come to physics!" my ever-so-cheerful friends say. No, I'd rather not. Even if my two-week crush is in that physics class as well. I'm fine with spending time on my own. Alright, I trudge to physics class, even though I don't understand a single thing. And it is, as I previously imagined, the most boring class ever. I didn't understand, I didn't want to understand. I guess it's that feeling of exclusion, which makes me feel uncomfortable. I stick out like a sore thumb.
6. The happier my friends are, the worse I feel. This probably sounds like the most demented and twisted thing on the planet, but I don't think I can actually stand their happiness at the moment. I am so...incredibly spiteful. No, I don't want them to be unhappy, because what I'm feeling right now is literally the worst thing ever. I just can't stand the fact that they all seem so... LOUD. Or does everyone and everything seem too loud when you're irritated? I don't need friends to cheer me up with their smiles. It only makes me feel worse, as I've found out. And of course I can't do anything about it. Like, who the fuck pushes their friends away when their friends are trying to be nice?
7. That maths test recently. I thought I did well, I didn't. Not well enough for me to be happy. Not bad enough for me to be depressed over that one thing. My expectations were just crushed. It's sad because I felt that it was one of my best topics. I liked that unit. It's frustrating when you're not as good as you want to be at something you like.
8. Titrations tonight. I am actually solely responsible for fucking it up big time. I didn't think I'd feel this bad, but when I got home I wanted to throw that silver medal I got at the floor, really, really hard. I refrained, gave it to my mother instead. When she tried returning it to me, I told her to put it away somewhere. I DO NOT want to see that piece of shit ever again.
9. My parents. It always comes back to my parents. Dad doesn't want me to leave home if I can't get into med school, but I can't stand another day with them, let alone another half-decade. This sudden threat has made med school appear ever more exciting. Mum's yelling at me to do her stupid fucking homework, and I really have no clue. None. If I push myself really, really hard, I might be able to finish it. I don't want to push myself that hard, and I don't think I have the willpower to, currently.
Okay, okay. I'm done. See, individually, none of them are actually that bad. Why did they all have to occur in the same period of time? It's tormenting me. However, I am certain that things will work out. Certain. I can sleep it off tonight, if I decide to sleep at all. If I still feel shit tomorrow morning, I can go for a run. I know I can't run 200m without heavily panting, but that's all the more reason to run. My body will produce happy-chemicals if I physically exert myself, and that's probably one of the safest options to induce happiness on a biological level. My friends are going to go on a day trip on Friday. I don't have to go to school because of cancelled classes. I have ages to recover.
I just need to smile. As a girl in my class used to tell me, "fake it til you make it."
haha...yeah...so proud of myself...
Look, it was a good night... sort of. I don't know. The fact that I kinda fucked it over for my group makes me feel a little bad. My error was 50k while everyone else was <200. If I could've made it into the <200 region our team would be second overall as opposed to 5th. Not that my teammates are actually giving me any shit for it, and I don't exactly feel guilty. I just feel... bad. Unhappy. Not the “I am at fault” kind of self-condemnation, I'm just... not happy.
Actually, I've been feeling that way a lot lately. No, no I'm not depressed. I need to feel like complete and utter shit for two weeks before it can be diagnosed as clinical depression.
I've finally figured out what's wrong. Nothing major is actually wrong.... it's just EVERY FUCKING SMALL THING IN LIFE ALL PILED UP TOGETHER. Individually, I can't say I care very much, but when you add one thing then another, it pushes my bounds of my mental stability. My "trivial concerns" are becoming overwhelming.
1. The formal. The whole date thing. I can't get over how I can't get over it.
2. Still the formal. The fact that I don't want to go for various reasons.
3. My friends being excited about a certain aspect of me actually attending the formal, and me being completely and utterly disgusted at their excitement. It's bad because they're my friends. BUT NO ONE UNDERSTANDS. FUCKING NO ONE. NO ONE. Some will pretend to, and try and argue with me. But the fact that they keep on telling me "it'll be fun!" convinces me further that THEY DON'T EVEN FUCKING KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. And I can't tell them. I don't know how to be more blatant than what I've already said and the way I'm acting. I guess people are bad at taking hints, or I'm too vague. Either way, it's not working, and I've given up on the subject with them. To put it in simplest terms? I have issues. No, that's not a joke. I actually do. If people don't understand, I don't want to make them understand. It shouldn't be this way.
...I need to talk to someone older. Much, much more older. I guess this is one of those rare moments where only a parental figure is appropriate, but all my mother does is yell back at me in a high-pitched voice. Dad? As far as I'm concerned, I have no father. Then it's like, oh shit I actually don't trust anyone. Never mind.
4. I'm failing chemistry. No, not an Asian fail, I'm actually failing the classes. All these stupid lab reports which we had to hand in, I HAD NO IDEA HOW TO COMPLETE. Why? Because our teacher didn't teach us shit. And when he did, HE TAUGHT IT WRONG. Then the new teacher we got, he expects me to know all this crap to do with physics, and while the rest of the class understands, I DON'T. AND HE DOESN'T CARE. My scores are BELOW AVERAGE.
5. Physics. Every single fucking one of my friends do physics. Fuck physics. I hate that class for a reason. "Come to physics!" my ever-so-cheerful friends say. No, I'd rather not. Even if my two-week crush is in that physics class as well. I'm fine with spending time on my own. Alright, I trudge to physics class, even though I don't understand a single thing. And it is, as I previously imagined, the most boring class ever. I didn't understand, I didn't want to understand. I guess it's that feeling of exclusion, which makes me feel uncomfortable. I stick out like a sore thumb.
6. The happier my friends are, the worse I feel. This probably sounds like the most demented and twisted thing on the planet, but I don't think I can actually stand their happiness at the moment. I am so...incredibly spiteful. No, I don't want them to be unhappy, because what I'm feeling right now is literally the worst thing ever. I just can't stand the fact that they all seem so... LOUD. Or does everyone and everything seem too loud when you're irritated? I don't need friends to cheer me up with their smiles. It only makes me feel worse, as I've found out. And of course I can't do anything about it. Like, who the fuck pushes their friends away when their friends are trying to be nice?
7. That maths test recently. I thought I did well, I didn't. Not well enough for me to be happy. Not bad enough for me to be depressed over that one thing. My expectations were just crushed. It's sad because I felt that it was one of my best topics. I liked that unit. It's frustrating when you're not as good as you want to be at something you like.
8. Titrations tonight. I am actually solely responsible for fucking it up big time. I didn't think I'd feel this bad, but when I got home I wanted to throw that silver medal I got at the floor, really, really hard. I refrained, gave it to my mother instead. When she tried returning it to me, I told her to put it away somewhere. I DO NOT want to see that piece of shit ever again.
9. My parents. It always comes back to my parents. Dad doesn't want me to leave home if I can't get into med school, but I can't stand another day with them, let alone another half-decade. This sudden threat has made med school appear ever more exciting. Mum's yelling at me to do her stupid fucking homework, and I really have no clue. None. If I push myself really, really hard, I might be able to finish it. I don't want to push myself that hard, and I don't think I have the willpower to, currently.
Okay, okay. I'm done. See, individually, none of them are actually that bad. Why did they all have to occur in the same period of time? It's tormenting me. However, I am certain that things will work out. Certain. I can sleep it off tonight, if I decide to sleep at all. If I still feel shit tomorrow morning, I can go for a run. I know I can't run 200m without heavily panting, but that's all the more reason to run. My body will produce happy-chemicals if I physically exert myself, and that's probably one of the safest options to induce happiness on a biological level. My friends are going to go on a day trip on Friday. I don't have to go to school because of cancelled classes. I have ages to recover.
I just need to smile. As a girl in my class used to tell me, "fake it til you make it."
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