Firstly, I bought Slam Dunk #20 (the bloody English one lah) and OH MY GOD!!! Mitsui I completely love! I wasn't kidding in the previous entry; I'm really in love with him, so much so that I could hardly give a toss about the real-life crush right now. This probably wouldn't make sense to most people but whatever. HE SHOT A THREE-POINTER! IT WAS BEAUTIFUL! HE BLOCKED FUKUDA'S SHOTS (and got fouled but whatever)! HE READ SENDOH'S FEINT! HE'S A GENIUS! AND HE'S MINE!
Okay, I'll shut up now.
Secondly, the fact that I bought Slam Dunk from Kinokuniya in Orchard shows that I HAVE GONE BACK TO CIVILISATION AFTER THREE LONELY, HORRENDOUS AND PAINFUL MONTHS AWAY FROM IT. Yes, Civilisation! I didn't merely "eat" it (Brave New World, Huxley); I swallowed it and shitted it out. IT'S BRILLIANT! It's the best goddamn thing I've ever tasted! I was at Lido! Isetan's Mos Burger! Cineleisure even though I hate that place! And Orchard Road MRT's bloody underpass! I used to practically live there when I was in secondary school!
God, living again feels so good. And the best part? Mel was with me to experience it all.
We took a neoprint. Haha! It was hilarious. All the screamings and hyena-like laughings and bouts of hysteria... hahaha! God, it was fun. Caught The Incredibles too, which wasn't as good as I thought it would be but it was good nonetheless. The perfect post-exam movie to unwind. Yes yes.
All right, I'm physically beat and my legs are aching like mad, which is not surprising, considering the walk through a section of Orchard Road is the first form of exercise I've taken in six months. Seriously. Haven't exercised ever since I stopped going for PE, which was probably in June or even May or even April. I can't remember, but it doesn't matter.
Okay. I've delayed this for long enough. I felt it last night while attempting to study for today's Paper 4 (which I will definitely talk about; worry not) and it was so strong that I even wrote about it in my diary despite my reserving my nights for some last-minute stuffing of info that usually didn't stay in my brains anyway.
To put it simply: Now what?
I felt this amazing sense of emptiness last night, and it's beginning to make its presence felt again. It's strange. It's over. It's finally over. I've been waiting for this day since time bleeding immemorial, or to put it in a less farcical way, ever since I decided to get my arse together and try to do something about the fact that I was not getting the grades that a genius like me should me getting, which was sometime in July, towards the end. Of course, since I'm human and since humans are intrinsically weak, my resolve crumbled on more occasions than I care to remember, but despite that, I think I can safely say that I've done more for the stupid A Levels than I ever have for academic-related bullshit throughout my whole life, added up and multiplied by infinity.
To be perfectly honest, it's fucking strenuous. It saps the life right out of you, and it's painful and it hurts and I hated every single moment of it. I've never been plagued with self-doubt and insecurity as I was throughout the past few months, and that, the nerves, the "can I or can I not? Am I or am I not? A1 or fail?" did me in for GP and I still believe that I'm gonna get a B3. And I don't think anyone can truly fully grasp how much that hurts me.
But the point I'm trying to say is, despite all of that, now that Independence Day (or so Mr. Girl puts it) is finally here, I feel a strange reluctance to let go. I went to school this morning feeling low in the dumps, and when the paper ended, people behind me were cheering and taking photographs, but what was I doing? I was calmly unfolding the pages of my three utopian texts whose edges I'd dog-eared for easy reference, and yelling at them in my mind to shut up.
Well, I did see this coming, so I'm not too surprised. And Civilisation (a.k.a Orchard Road) is going to lose its appeal after my 100 millionth time there in like a week. And I'd probably get sick of my job, whatever it's gonna be, after a month. And university, well, I don't really know why I'm going except that it's a given and that I want to, and I also predict that I'm gonna regret the course that I'd choose, whatever it's gonna be. I predict, too, that I'd hate my job in the future, that I'd probably further conform and get married with kids like everyone else, and that I'd get a divorce because I'd hate my husband and my kids for robbing me of my freedom, and at the real end of everything, I'm gonna die alone, bitter, forever cynical, a scowl on my face.
Lovely. That's all it's amounting to, isn't it? Honestly, when you really think about it, there isn't a point to all the things that we do. Get good grades -- okay, but the thrill of it actually happening, if it does, is more transient than the awful feeling, bitter as bile, painful as a million knife pricks to the heart, that one gets when one fails. Get a job -- okay, I'll earn my dough and do my shopping, but god, how boring after a while! Get a degree -- okay, but every fucking cat on the street is a degree-holder, so to set yourself apart, you have to get a masters at least. But my god, studying AGAIN? I can't bear that thought right now. Get married -- what, like everyone else? I'm already conforming enough by merely living!
Judith Wright: it keeps the blood alive? Are you sure? I feel like I'm ageing too fast for me to catch up, and I'm only bloody 18.
This is just weird. I don't know what I'm gonna do in the future at all. As pointless as the A Levels are, at least I had something to work towards to, for whatever misguided, superficial and retarded reasons. But now? I seriously have no idea what I want.
I used to know, of course. The only thing I ever wanted to do was to write. But even that now appears to be a lie, because I honestly believe that I've been vastly overrated by everyone. And when was the last time I've written something? May 22nd of this year, a birthday fic for Mitsui aka my Soulmate, and even that could hardly count as a "story".
I've never gone so long without writing before. It's strange. It's unsettling and alienating and as much as I'm keen to get back into it, I'm afraid too, for it's been so long that I think I've forgotten how to write.
Uh, I don't think this is making sense, but suffice to say that the angst has returned and that I'm just gonna attempt to figure this out after I've had my fun. I think I owe myself that much. In fact, I think the world owes me that much for making me force myself to go through this.
And yeah, speaking of the A Levels, Lit Paper 4 today was quite disappointing because I had so much to say for the stupid essay but even after 7 pages I still had so much left unsaid. I have this tendency to constantly go on and on and on about a particular text, expounding on one point, and since I use two texts for a point, it means that one point takes up about three pages which is really stupid. The most serious crime I committed was that I didn't write about the restoration of the Berlin Wall as a tourist attraction, which was SUPPOSED to demonstrate that Julian Barnes's England, England aptly reflects upon real life, but NO I didn't fucking write that.
And I was falling asleep whilst trying to get my head around the passage, which I found darkly comedic. Hopefully I didn't pull another one of my great Misreading Feats again.
Okay, time to predict my grades.
Whoa, it's 10. Time to watch The O.C. Didn't wanna rush through this but I had to finish reading my Slam Dunk for I was dying of anticipation even though I've seen the anime like ten million times but I've forgotten the exact unfolding of events so you can't blame me.
One last thing: I love Mitsui Hisashi to bits and bits and pieces and pieces. I love you Hisashi. So much.