all right here's what i don't understand:

it's actually after the promos, having somewhat survived it and yes kids, its very much worse than the O Levels and yet and yet i am so tired, there's actually hardly a spare second to catch my breath and god, even for leisure, i find myself rushing and struggling to squeeze it in between EVERYTHING (i.e. events of today) so everything is just bad, and under all the laughter is the unmistakable undercurrent of strain and lethargy, and the knowing that you are out with your friends not doing work, because you know that is as opposed to doing MORE work and it is just horrible, is everybody going through this.

i actually would want to list down everything that is a) pissing me off and b) making, or promising to make life hell but yeah i doubt you guys would be interested in that whining shit so i think i shall exercize some good ole self-restraint.
and you know the worse thing of all is that you can't even complain with satisfaction because there is this guilt that nudges you all the time that hey, whatever you're going through, he's getting it as bad too, or worse.

a case example:
struggling with photo exhibition shit - with amazing help from jenn+jerm+shim+shawn THANKYOU; watches a tired and rather frazzled ms narinder make her way to go home

ME: nnngh, you're going home? (read: whaaaat, you're going home while we're still stuck here being minions when we're not even the ones supposed to be minion-ing!)
NARINDER: i'm going home to work on the presentation for the minister due tomorrow (read: i'm bigger, and actually earning money for this, but hey, still a minion)
ME: oh. sorry.

which you know, makes this blog (and by this, i mean ALL forms of online journals so i am NOT converting, you eljay kids) completely pointless. i don't even find inane daily incidents remotely amusing anymore, so no light-hearted anecdotes either. there's barely enough time to breathe, let alone think substantial/interesting thoughts.











and on monday and tuesday, we have post-exam activities that is brilliantly all athletic-oriented, so i will spend time taking up court space as a relatively useless mass of lack-of-coordination hurrah.

it's crazy. recently rushing my art project, i'd end up so tired and forcing myself to sleep only with the compromise that while falling in and out of sleep in those odd half-conscious moments i would think up compositions for a problematic thingy, and oh dear god, the stress-induced strange dreams don't help either

interestingly, schizophrenia is hereditary.