April 28th, 2006

happy girl

the point being?

I want to apply for Warwick's international office scholarship thingy but I have to write 150 words in support of my application, outlining my proposed area of study and my academic interests.

I have absolutely no idea what to say.

Jeez Yelen, how difficult is it to write 150 words? That's barely a paragraph. It should be easy, right?

Well, what do you know. How many things are there in life that are supposed to be easy, that should be easy, but really, just...aren't? If I were to make a list I think that'd certainly take me quite a while.

I was up til 4 a.m. writing desperate last-minute notes to take into my Crim exam. My hand almost broke, but more importantly, I was really quite sick of the subject. At the 1934529584th drug trafficking case I snorted in incredulity and wondered why these stupid people don't just go get a fucking job like the rest of us and do something with their lives. And it was with that thought that made me even aware of how jaded I am, because it is a thought that I would pass unsavoury judgement on others for harbouring, not one that I would ever have thought I would think. Law is law, and then there's ambiguity. What IS the point anyway? I can keep pretending I was in it solely for the money but from the looks of it going into the money-spinning aspects of the profession will definitly induce me to kill myself, and the truth is, I had some ideals when I started law school and increasingly, these ideals are starting to look insignificant and pointless. What is the point of having the right to a trial if the trial seems to pay lip service to the idea of the trial more than anything else? What is the point of defending a (useless) criminal if you're going to lose the case by default anyway, and even if you win there's no guarantee or even some sort of a possibility that the said criminal is going to stop being useless and do something useful with his stupid life? What is the point of feeling perturbed by certain interpretations of the Penal Code, especially by a certain recently-retired CJ, when the law isn't going to change no matter how much noise you make?

And, lastly, the million dollar question: What is the point of staying in a course and feeling miserable, only to get out of it with a degree you don't even want to bloody use and knowing, all along, that your happiness is to be found elsewhere? Even if the latter is a gamble, don't you have to make some gambles in order to find what you want, the thing that will sustain you through this life, give you satisfaction beyond marginal utility and the increasing digits of your bank account balance?

At the rate I'm going...suffice to say, I don't know where I'm going.

And I'm only at Diminished bloody Responsibility and the exam is at 9 a.m. tomorrow. I am SO DAMN DEAD.

What's the difference between DR and unsoundness of mind anyway? And how ridiculous is it that some prosecution expert witness actually said that having an anti-social personality disorder doesn't translate to unsoundness of mind? I just, like, wanted to laugh or cry or something.

But yeah. Whatever.
happy girl

maybe there's something wrong with life. but there's something wrong with me as well.

I was getting started on desperately copying-and-pasting take-into-exam-lecture-theatre (I can't believe I'd be attempting to write an exam in a bloody LT on that tiny little slab of plastic that's supposed to be a "table" but is actually a non-table) for Seminar 15, Abetment and Conspiracy (which I know nothing about), when I stopped and thought...well, fuck, why bother?

So I only have notes for Seminars 1 to 14. The remaining three? I'm hoping like hell that I won't have to deal with them in my answers.

I re-found out that the exam is 2 hours and 30 minutes, three questions in total. Which means I'd spend about an hour and fifteen minutes on homicide and divide the rest between...the rest, which means I won't really have to write a lot for the other two, which is kind of okay with me 'cause the only topic I know something about is Homicide.

Ultimately, all signs are pointing to me barely passing bloody Criminal Law. Or maybe I'd be like Cliff McCormick of Veronica Mars who "failed Criminal Law". Hmm, there's a definite possibility for you.

And instead of trying to save my butt, I'm here typing an entry about how screwed I am. Talk about digging an even bigger grave for MH to bury me alive in.

Also, all thanks to tomorrow's screwed up NINE A.M. exam, I can't watch my fully-downloaded episode of VM. I'm trying very hard to ascertain if I'm still me, because I, Yelen am putting off watching a new Veronica Mars for a law school exam. Colour me flabbergasted.

Or not. I suppose it boils down to survival instincts.

Or not. More likely, it's a matter of pride.

Or wait, no, that's not it. Could it be because I need to wake up at 7.30 a.m. tomorrow morning? Ah...that's it.

Fuck. I don't know what else to say anymore, except...fuck. A thousand times over, and then a thousand times somemore. I hate that I have to take exams, I hate that I'm in law, I hate that I can't watch VM tonight, I hate that I have to force myself to read like 34375262752 more fucking powerpoint slides.

But above all else, I hate that I did all of the above to myself, thinking I could get away with it. Or not even thinking of the consequences, not thinking at all. What happened to that organ of mine called a brain? Maybe it's still there, alive, but it's been irreparably damaged, assailant unknown.

So hard to point the finger away from yourself when you know better than that.