4:38 PM, Wednesday, Jun. 08, 2011
Yeah so pretty much this assessment, I've been walking into each exam unprepared. Especially that 3U exam which was easy shit yet I couldn't fucking do anything. It goes to show how much I regret not doing something, because I knew I could have aced it if I tried.
Regardless, I'm stuck in a can't-be-fucked-mood limbo. I have this feeling close to: oh well if I screw up this time, because I can just make up for it next time. Because I know I'm capable of doing better. Maybe I'm overestimating myself? I mean I'll probably screw myself over so bad I won't be able to make up for it.
But that's basically what I'm doing. Up and down, up and down. I'll do nothing and pass each day wasting away. Once in a blue moon I'll end up actually doing well because I felt like trying, but then I fall into a lapse of apathy again. And though things mean so much, more than ever now, I don't seem to care at all.
A nice quote:
"Loneliness is black coffee and late-night television; solitude is herb tea and soft music. Solitude, quality solitude, is an assertion of self-worth, because only in the stillness can we hear the truth of our own unique voices."Except I quite like drinking black coffee for reasons I may or may not explain another day.
� Pearl Cleage
I feel like saying to someone: You have never seen me at my worst. You may have seen me on a bad day, a good day, a sad day, an angry day, many lazy days, but you have never seen me at my worst. And likewise, you have never seen me at my best. Those moments are reserved for myself.
I don't know. It's just this song I found fifteen minutes ago. You just gotta love Beirut. And omgsh his new album<3
Beirut - Goshen
Sometimes I feel like reading the bible.
You know what my brother said to me just then? "Listen to The Kooks." Aha! I remember once (last year maybe) I was trying to melt my milo in cold milk, so I tried blowing at the powder which floated on top. Instead, the milo just shot up and powdered my face. My brother walked past, saw me, and asked me if I had tried blowing it. I replied, 'Yeah. Did you try that too?' He didn't say anything, pausing. Then with the most serious poker face of a CIA agent, he nodded, as if telling me a secret. Another more recent conversation went like this:
Bro: Who left this random cracker here?
Me: Dunno, not me. Dad I think.
B: What the hell...
M: I'll eat it--
B: No I will.
M: ...half.
B: .........fine.
It's funny, but not the type to laugh at. Sort of the kind to chuckle at inside, or to speak with an attempted suppressed smile. Little moments.