Study Intermission Pt. 2

An Indian 'Thriller' with mock english lyrics. Surprisingly, this came out way before Michael Jackson's version.

Study Intermission.

Foamy the Squirrel. Classic crackshit.

When you realise you're the smartest in your tribe.

I got a rude reminder today about the fact that the Sinagporean academic journey awaits no man.

Or woman.

Or queer(If that's where you're inclined to).



We are all facing our Sec 3 EOYs.

Shock and horror, people. Shock and horror. Bring on the scream queens, the bawlers and the terminally insane muggers.

Me? I'll be working my way up slowly to improving those grades. Definitely gonna get a B for Maths this final term. I bet my last buck on it. I've worked my ass off far too hard over the weekend to see it all go up in rancid, putrid, smoke.

So far, the only encouraging sign I've gotten is the fact that I've improved by at least 12 points. Amazing? Not quite, if you consider the fact that my previous score was 35...which would put my current L1R5 to 23. I can practically hear the tsk-tsking of those educational zealots and their similarly nerdy companions. Well, suck monkey balls, Spock-bitches. I'm gonna make this year, even if I'll be sent kicking and screaming just to study properly.

On a lighter note, I found a certain someone quite attractive. I just hope the latter's partner doesn't beat me to a gasping, bloody pulp for saying that.

Or maybe it's the caffeine again. Sigh.

I need to get a life.

Turncoats and tranquilizers

Who am I?

I am Atiqah.

I am Tiky.

I am Anthony.

I am Antoinette.

I am Aegis.

I am Asheron.

I am nothing but a figment of my own imagination.

Nothing but a shell with the contents tossed into the nearest reclamation facility, to be turned into fuel, scrap metal and possibly, bits of vital intelligence to be remade into something worthwhile, like a scholar. Or a scribe

An empty, hollow shell.



Where have I gone to?

I have been divided.

I try to please, and give it all, and yet it all

falls

apart.

Because I have divided.

Shunned for where I have been separated into, where I believe I belong, and yet, I cannot fit into any corner or crevice. I have changed, and shifted, and morphed, so much so that my origins are nothing more than foreign territory.



Why have I disappeared?

I was weak.

Weak, and longing for the small space in between enamoured arms that even the youngest of children and the wisest of elders crave.

It was blind love, and the wish to wipe away tears and discontent.

It was blind love.

Indeed, indeed.

And now that I have abandoned my old blog, I have set up a new one! Charming.

Of course, I originally wanted to use my MSN Space, but somehow or other, I ended up publishing here.

Oh well!

I'll try do that when I get some coding know-how embedded in my little noggin.