I realise it takes a change in blogskin for others to realise the change in you.
Is that really the way the world should work?
Do you have to scream 'I AM FREAKING ANGRY/SAD/HAPPY/SHITTIFIED'?
I guess you would. In today's world, you would.

It's the summary of the ______ five days of my life. It's up to your descretion to fill in the blanks.

I still have blue paint all over my fingernails since Friday.
I do not own any bottles of nail polish, what to say about nail polish removers.
If you think that is pathetic, well maybe it is but I don't really care (:

Friday- the horror starts. I am (as usual) late for school, I plonk down my bag, happy, carefree, not a care in the world. I think it's going to be another normal day at school; stressful; yes, but still livable.

I am still clueless when I approach Mrs K.
And like the unexpecting deer drinking from a lake, I am suddenly encroached by a tiger.
And then the ton of bricks hit me. And I fall flat- No, I don't literally.

Anyway, she says I have to sprout out 7 compositions and poems by Friday 1:45 OR my butt wont have to grace the occasion. Not that she really minded, she just said I could dont go.
It's the first.
HURR. I am just hyperventilating inside but I just smile sweetly and say I could do it, thank you very much.
And then I turn around and stop breathing my face turned purple and the world thought I was happy (gay)

I skip Bio lesson.
I ignore A math.
I am still staring at that fullscap but no inspiration is flowing yet. Nope, not even after staring at the yellow ribbon on my pencil case. Or the cross badge on it. Or reb's strawberry eraser.
In recess I am tempted to kneel down before her with a cup of hot steaming tea and perform a tea ceremony right there.
I wouldn't mind even if she asked me to massage her toes- I think.

I kind of had a portfolio put together but I was just told to BRING them on Friday. And it happens it is the deadline.

I rush to the com lab only to find Q and pal blasting chinese songs and playing com games. HEH. Talk about the life.
I can't even concentrate on the reflection on humpty and dumpty.

And I can't use commonwealth essays, so my precious water will just have to sit and rot in the dump.

I'm going to dunk my head there right now.

and all the while the world swirls beneath me the castle falls down the banner drops there are things to be done stuff to be collected to be said.

At the end of the day I write nothing and I can't find her. I make a desperate attempt at talking to Mrs. Ong. She promised to help, but she can't guarantee.

I'm tired.
Fatigue is overwhelming.
It's interesting; what I've written in two days is better than that of the whole holidays. Stress is good. I like it, but to some extent.
They are morbid, sadistic stories so i doubt you would read them anyway if I posted.
I postponed piano. AGAIN. I know I know. I can run but I can't hide. I just can't keep pushing it further and further. I think Ms ling's put me on her kick out list already. The rest of her students are so pro. I'm like lagging behind somewhere with a thread.

I'm real sad about Sunday.
I'm really really so infuriated with myself.
I skipped church.
I know.
There was a band from Australia.
AndI missed it. and THEM-nudge hint yj
All because I wanted to write 'The Swing' and 'The window'
Am I deprived? Do you think?
Writers aren't normal people.

And i really spooked myself out. Typing away at 2am. Hoho. Fancy getting spooked by your own 'ghost' story. And it isn't even haunted. But the house was so dark and quiet and everyone's sleeping and you're writing about a girl looking thru the window at her dead mother. Think about it.

Then mum woke up and pressurised me to go and sleep. So I printed out, 'went' to bed. Switched off the lights. Lay on bed. 1,2,3, seconds. Click of door. Prepared portfolio. It's like a crime. I feel so theif-ish.

I feel that right now, as I'm typing.
There are so many things I want to say.
But I'm not sure I can say them

Monday. Maths quiz. It just slipped my mind the whole weekend.

Today. English test. And she's sitting and she's reading and we're writing so furiously.
I think things are taking a toll on me.
Class matters. CNY.
I'm tired of telling them already. Life's more than grades, more than that textbbook more than that tuition you've got. You want this secondary school experience, it'll past and soon you'll look back and regret that you weren't more part of it.
The afternoons, the hours. I'm a slave to the clock.

I live by late clocks.

It's not so simple.

Harp. I missed you, dear ball.
It's my first time this year. How historical. Zoey and co. vs sec3s. It is quite obvious which team's shooting hoops like popping popcorns. I was dripping but it was damn fun. I want to play again.

the vocal majority overpowers the silent minority
Do you know how much the wound has dug?
You don't have to tear 24/7.
I've been angry, hurt or sad. I have.
we're all afraid. we dont want to hurt you, anger you. we're makingpeace.
but i'm assumed to be forever 100% happy.
just because i'm not so expressive?
is this the way?

Mum fetched me, went for tea in tp.
Fo some reason I was just feeling irritable.
I think I can have twins this month.
HEH HEH. There's something wrong with me la. Maybe next month won't have.

and I'm particularly bereaved because of the absence of bsf. and this is such a joke, cause I was the one who kept persuading jess to go. And i'm not going.

Jan's going to kick some ass for me. YOU GO MY DEAREST SHORT TEDDS(: It's your day.
We're targetting a swop with some dude xD
I'm so sad la. I was the only one who wrote them a teacher's day card on teacher's day. and they just forgot all about me and it and dumped me out.
Maybe I can gatecrash. Funny, considering how i wanted to escape.

i'm still waiting for that blue box.
in the rusty wind.....



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