I have found flagrant evidence that I really do need to improve my chinese.

Apparently it was so bad I just passed the stupid multiple choice vocab-picking thingy (whatever it's called) and and flunked (YES, FLUNKED) the !@#%$#^ comprehension passage.

Friggin' thing.

I have never before in my whole existence prayed for a bloody 65. A B3.

Oh, God. When did I get so desperate?

Along with the other things I need to improve, I need to study Chemistry and Biology (Still lost over the reproductive system, however I do remember random facts like the menstrual cycle is after every 28 days and that ovulation occurs after the cycle every 11 days, and that THAT time of the month can last for 5 days. All these information I have gained by doing assesment books.

I am still incredibly lost over the male atanomy though. (What the hell is the vas deferens?)

Oh, and my Math needs pulling up (or rather, a magic charm to whack me over the head from being bored and not paying attention/ doing stupid things) and my English is hopeless.

Hopeless by my standards.

WHY DID I DEGENERATE??? WHY???? TELL ME WHY, GOD! WHY???!!!

Another reason why I should read more books and remember more vocab (for example, what is tatterdemalion).

Or maybe I shall just buy that tortrous book Ning Feng has and play with it everyday.

Shit. I just remembered that this is the week for the 2.4 km run.

Urgh. Stupid accursed physical fitness tests...they do this to make us die and bemoan our fates as hapless students.

Does anyone want a history elective? I learnt today that the school will open a class if there are people interested. (like me)

Just abhor Geography.

So PLEASE, if you want history elective next year, PLEASE FIND ME AT 2 HARMONY CLASSROOM AND FIGURE OUT HOW TO APPEAL TO THE PRINCIPAL!!!

P.S. Is there anyone who wants to take Principle of Accounts as well? I want to get into that class.

I better buck up or I won't be getting into 8Lit next year!

FOR LITERATURE, JIA YOU!

WAHAHAHA I'M SO HAPPY I FOUND HIS NAME!

IT'S TERRY!

Yay. And it was all because of my quicktype on my phone, which spelt 'sorry' as 'perry'.

Which led me to Terry.

I see your confused look from the other end of the monitor, as well as the thought bubble making a rude hand gesture towards me. 'She's insane' is inscribed in the thought bubble, manga-style.

I'M SO HAPPY! I REMEMBERED HIS NAME! YAY!!!!!!

Tomorrow's the day for the english lit drama reading thingy, and Wei Qi presented to me the ticket to acting Beatrice.

I swear I have an unhealthy obssession with horrible people, but nevermind. But seriously, am I that transparent?

...

Awkward silence.

...

I suppose so.

I like acting loads. It's fun to play such a difficult character (I also liked playing Ruth, but I really went all out to get the role because I waanted to prove to myself that I can do it). Another reason why I started writing (mediocre) poetry and (substandard) prose, but I digress, since memories aren't that pleasnat to dig up.

This is an extremely random statement, but I must say that I loath being pitied. Oh, and human beings are meant to suffer as much as they are meant to smile. It's an irony, and I can't really explain it myself, I can only come up with metaphors that will no doubt make you think I am showing off here.

Anyway, I really wish I have a good memory, especially for remembering names.

My flute is spoilt (HEY! DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT! IT'S JUST ONE KEY, AND I DIDN'T HARM IT! I'M BEING MALIGNED!) and I can't play the F note.

Yes, you perverts, the F note. That includes the middle and high F, as well as the F#. (Is there a F flat? Thank God I haven't learnt it yet, or it'll be a royal pain in the ass not being able to play 4 notes).

Strangely, it's ONLY the F key. The E note, (one key below) is perfectly fine, and so is the D note.

You on the other side of the monitor. Stop eyeing me in suspicion. I didn't drop it.

So anyway, spoilt (by me) or not, it has to be repaired, so I set about my task of asking the store where I bought my flute to fix it. Unfortunately, I have forgotten his name. What makes the situation even worse is that my mother has imported her whole Mount Everest of contacts into my phone (last year when she had to borrow my phone for a week while hers was being repaired) and my thumb has become numb from scrolling through it.

Is it Tony? Billy? Ben? Benson? Arthur? Brenice? (Oh wait, that's my girl friend's name).

I gave up after going through roughly half of the list. Now I am currently searching for that miserable piece of Post-it note where I had written the guy's name and contact number.

Urgh.

The flower which blooms at night, cousin to the morning glory.

Worlds apart.

Somehow I started liking it alot, along with the Night Blooming Cereus. Flowers which bloom in the night. How poetic.

Too bad jasmine is too overused as a perfume.

I have recently discovered that I am extremely prone to hysteria, particularly under duress of stress.

And when I'm hysteric, I burst out into uncontrollable laughter (for no reason, I suppose it's the body's natural reaction to physcological attacks) and thus become VERY insensitive. Even if it's a funeral, I think I would be laughing my way out with security escorts and glares.

And my sense of rhythm is absolutely _______. Which is why my poetry has always been bad in terms of structure and meter.

I tried to practice imambic parameter, unfortunately I don't normally pronounce the stressed and unstressed syllables. When you read poetry, it's a natural thing, however when you write it, it is about as natural as ejecting waste out of your body when you experience constipation.

Gaaaaaahhhh.

I doubt I will be laughing at all tomorrow during the 2.4 km run...

Anyway, we studied the menstrual cycle today during biology. Needless to say, my own cycle was a case of 'speaking of the devil'. (hope this is subtle enough).

Ignore the above mention of cycles if you want to keep your food down. =)

I just don't feel like studying.

Especially studying stupid chinese. (Hey, it alliterates!)

It's now the 3rd week, andwe have 3 more weeks to exams, but I really don't feel like studying chinese, because I hate it and yadda-yadda.

Let's see, I have to pull up my time management skills cos I spent too long on the gong han. Maybe next time I shall start the compo first.

Or I should start reading more chinese, however this is where I am royally fucked, because I'm not the type who would sidle up to the library and grab another chinese romance book, which are unfortunately in abundance.

I can't grab thrillers either, because I have no idea what they are trying to tell me, I can't grab fantasy, because I'll be hopeless with all the alien chinese terms, and I can't grab something which I like (you know, those eloquent books about criminal physcology or overly-descriptive english poetic books that offer you new insight about life) because my chinese is too poor.

=.=

This isn't helping.

I should stick to reading chinese newspapers, but nooo, I'm much more well-informed by the Starits Times and the chinese newspaers are kind of laggy with the latest financial happenings and world news (with obvious exception for China, which frankly, I don't really care, unless they plan on dominating the world).

Arrghh.

I'll just revise all the chinese words we've learnt this year and go into my Corner of Utter Depression and Woe.

Or perhaps I shall just try to prevent my Chinese grades from falling into the chasms of C's. I'll pull up my English to an A2! ROOOOAAARRRR! (then again, time management, the evil culprit, stalks me once more.)

Hmm, we have 1hour 45 mins for compo right? I hope so...or is it 1 hr 15 min? Or just 45 min?

If it's anything but 1h 45 min, I'm totally fucked, because of my superergatory vocabulary and things I want to say. Ahh, the penance we have to pay for being TOO well-informed, while others are struggling to write more, I'm struggling to write LESS.

The irony. The paradox is made blindingly obvious by my inability to write anything worthy in chinese.

YES OMG KYAAAA! -rabid fangirl scream-

Just one day after I posted up my latest piece I had TWO comments on the page AND a fave. I'm even more enthused than ever because it was an original idea, something I wanted to express for who knows so long, and it's very personal to me.

So I'm REALLY TOUCHED that some stranger out there took the time to read and comment on it! Deviantart fucking up on me multiple times as I tried to post it up yesterday was worth it! Ok, not worth it, nearly worth it, I nearly cussed at the computer yesterday.

I love writing. I really do. I suppose my latest work is much more personal because I wrote a little bit of myself in there. This is why I want to study English Literature, because others' experience, thoughts and actions are interesting to study. How they use select words to express their feelings, how they make a whole new character from ideas fumbling around their heads into flesh and blood, nearly as real as you and I, and putting a bit of themselves inside the character.

That why I suppose I could connect a little with the 'atom' deal in 'The Effect of Gamma rays on Man-In-The-Moon Marigolds'. I don't know how to explain it, but the closing lines of 'atom. What a beautiful word.' really got me.

Anyway, don't be fooled when others tell you that vocabulary is a crucial point in any essay. Yes, some of it is, but face it, no one wants to read an essay speckled with words which look like they came from the ancient latin texts, pre-translation. As long as you can back up your point and create emotion in your writing, you're fine. Many people whose works I've read have beautiful imagery and good vocabulary, but their writing comes across as flat.

However, I shall continue in my relentless pursuit for better vocabulary. It always comes in useful during a debate or insult match.

P.S. I forgot to address an issue of utmost consequence. Is self-worship perfectly acceptable? I've had self-praising ego sessions a while back, and it's cool. I think after this bout of good news I'll go into another ritual of worshipping my genius.

One man's genius is another's insanity, someday the world will realise the genius in my insanity.