Change of Tune

I shall not lie to myself, the truth that I have received 63.5 upon 100 for my English papers is a fact. If any nuisance people dare post anything about their own marks or any in-between-the-line comments I shall hunt them down. The school campus is not large enough to hide someone on the verge of crying really.

Only I did not break down after those dismal marks. You can't really do that sort of thing when your other subjects are better than a friend who really puts her self down. Sometimes all of us have exceedingly low self-esteem especially when most of us depend on the way others view us to rank ourselves.

She views herself through her parent's expectations and perhaps her own want to prove herself better than me in a way. I presume the above since I had one small consolation; I had top marks for Geography, a tie with another girl. Then again she has such a better outlook in life despite some of her family conditions and the better English score between the both of us.

I suppose it would be a lie for me to say I did my best for the essay. It turned out horribly. A catastrophe. My language just does not turn itself to the right pitch for the exams. I have such whimsical ideas about life and what could happen. Next time I shall play the honest fool and lead myself by the noose to something seemingly more practical.

Milan Kundera's Laughable Loves is getting partially into my head. I wonder if I will ever accomplish such a literary achievement in my life. I quote," One doesn't live for oneself. One always lives for something." I bet I always lived on the hope of being a writer since 11. Such crumbling hopes.

One thing I forgot to add about the story (I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith), the story is written in three journals with increasing monetary value. One about sixpence, then a shilling, then two guineas. It is quite an amount in those simpler and poorer regions of England at that time I suppose.

I wonder if I should get a moleskin or a nice leather-bound notebook of reasonable size as my drafting book. I suppose I own quite an expensive model. This computer but it does get a bit monotone. No changes in font or writing style purely determined by mood. My other journals have no such significance to me. I think I may need a new pen to go along with it. a blue rather than a grieving black. I have been using that blasted colour for the entire examinations.

At least there is a short weekend stay by the beach along the Straits of Melaka at Port Dickson soon. Just a short weekend but nonetheless the waves and a book will soothe me. Just about two weeks from now on the first of November till the third.

I should like a good cry but since there are no tears to let out I might as well save myself the trouble. Tomorrow is Friday, I think I will head to town and sit at a hopefully quiet cafe. There will be hardly any with the crowd that patrons the few places possible to go to. I feel like a caged bird now. Four more papers to receive the verdict from tomorrow.

Ah, dear tomorrow.