Day in, day out, it's the same crazy mad rush, and on Mondays it's the worst. You just got out of bed, refreshed from an entire day of doing absolutely nothing, and it's 6.30 in the morning, it's still dark out and all you truly want to do is to go back to bed and forget that you haven't done your Economics tutorial, you haven't done your Literature prose analysis, you haven't touched your Binomial assignment and you really don't want to do P.E. today.
But you push all of that aside, because it's what you have to do, whether you like it or not. And so you get lost in the steady stream of people in the hallways, in the corridors, in and out of the classrooms, in the canteen... you're lost in the crowd, just another face in a sea of generic mugs that spell nothing but boredom. Almost as if you're losing your individuality.
You get so amazingly tired sometimes that you wonder if things will ever work out, if you'll ever get that four As you so desperately want and need and desire. You wonder if you'll ever break away from your already-programmed laziness and get down to work, because from the way things are going so far, history seems to be repeating itself, and it is enjoying itself. A lot. Almost like it's taking pleasure in letting you know that it's making its presence felt and known.
And I, the self-proclaimed genius, the one with the oversized head and the truly unfounded and invalid confidence, don't think I can do it. Everything that I go through in school throws shadows of doubt on my own capabilities and intelligence. I know I'm not stupid. In fact, I'm pretty damn smart. And I know that I could've got a single digit for the O Levels, if only I'd put in that extra amount of effort.
But the fact is, I didn't. And it seems like I'm not doing much to improve the situation I have at hand. I'm not doing anything at all.
I go to school, sleep through the classes, only half-understanding, and I'm so caught up in trying to stay afloat that I'm not even aware that I'm breathing underwater half the time. I have absolutely no idea what's going on. Except for Literature, everything else makes no sense.
And you know what truly hurts? The fact that I'm doing absolutely no-thing about it.
I keep on falling and skinning my knees and elbows and tearing old scars and bleeding all over again and as the story goes for it is my life after all, I never learn.
This is true for so much more than just school, even though it is what I'm basically talking about right now. I'm also referring to my asinine and irritating crush on Mr. Nerd that refuses to go away for whatever reason. It's really getting on my nerves, the way I refuse to let go of it, despite knowing that 1) he's not my type; 2) he likes somebody else and 3) did I mention that he's not my type?
I don't know what I'm trying to prove here. Maybe I'm making it difficult for myself just to get some sadistic pleasure out of having a crush on somebody who could really care less about you. Maybe it gives me some kind of muse for writing or something. I don't really know. Or maybe I'm just trying to validate my existence, however that works out.
But the thing is, I just want to lie on my bed and sleep right now. Dream the world away. Take myself by the hand and dash through fields of daffodils and daises and grass that reaches my waist, with the warm sunlight on my face, the cool wind caressing my cheek.
I just want to throw in the towel and say that I've had enough. I've had enough of you constantly bringing me down, scratching at my defense, trying to break apart my cynicism, my only protection from the cruelty of the world, trying to do all that till there's nothing left but me. Nothing left but the truth that I've been trying to elude all these while: maybe, just maybe, I'm not all that cynical and jaded after all.
Perhaps, just perhaps, all I really want is some idiot to love me and have me love him back.