Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia :O

The first day of SPM, the official start of infinite anxiety and studying. We were in the battlefield, i.e. the Bishop Ferguson Hall (just to mention the grand-sounding name again in case you haven't checked my previous post already). The first paper which was the Malay Language Paper 1 (essay writing) was rather merciful to me. Yesterday's midnight oil was definitely burnt for worthy reason, it kind of saved my life. =) Sadly Paper 2 was a killer. Whatever I had spent hours studying just didn't appear in the question paper. :O Blame myself for relying too much on the inaccurate forecast question.

Anyway, it's over. Thinking positively, one is down, nine more papers to go. =P

Screw You

I simply hate it when she screams at me for nothing, when it's utterly unnecessary. I don't care if she's drunk. So what, if you're drunk, go get a sleep or regain your consciousness. Whenever she yells at me, she is reminding me of how she had wrongly accused me of nothing I'd done, for the umpteenth times. The look on her face. I still remember how she seemed perfectly sure that I turned my back on her when I didn't for the love of God. And she's putting me on the edge of anxiety breakdown. But the sorrow is not strong enough to drag me into the turbulent torrents of tears. She just makes me frown, as if tears are going to stream down my cheeks anytime but will never. I'm so tired of her leaving the strained look on my face. It's so bloody stupid.

One Week Left Before I Die! (not literally, of course)

I've been in St Mary Secondary Girl School for nearly five years. After one more month, I am no longer a St Marian, but an EX St Marian. How that single extra word can actually make a difference. You know right. Leaving school and then be lost in the cruel outside world that might chill the bone out of innocent teenagers like us, yet hidden with so much possibilities and opportunities. *sigh*

In that seemingly short but torturous month, the fifth formers have to sit for the much important examination, i.e. SPM in the Bishop Ferguson Hall, which is basically a small hall that can fit 1000 over students, provided that all of them place their butts on the parquet floor, and not in those comfortable cushioned chairs that eat up plenty of space, and money too. Bishop Ferguson was the one who suggested founding this school at 1912. That's like 99 years ago. Okay, get back to the topic. Exams... Ugh.... Throughout this year, we've sat for tonnes of exams and tests. First, there was Intervention. Then, Mid Year Exam. Diagnosis. Intervention II. SPM Trial. Now the real thing is coming. And what? I'm only six days away from SPM.

Honestly, I don't feel excited, scared, sad or whatever I should be feeling right now. I mean, it's only SPM. After a few years, my SPM result slip will be another piece of useless trash. Degree, Master or Ph.D. are more promising. I know I should strive for excellence in the present and I'm drifting rather far, giving myself excuses to not work for it. The art of procrastination, you will try to create whatever reason that sounds reasonable and trick yourself into believing that it's only right that you screw off.

Wake up!