The glorious and triumphant return of now-19 year old Blogger, the revival of a once-grand and dare I say influential webspace that produced daily content, and the crippling anxiety of a young woman who no longer has any time or motivation to write, and feels like any ability she had acquired in the past through repetition and sheer will alone is now slowly slipping out of her grasp. Brief history of the Blog and Blogger can be found here.

Here be personal journal entries, observations, slices of life, questions and conclusions, as well as exploration of social and political topics seen through the lens of a Malaysian Muslim, feminist, lesbian, Marxist, and horse enthusiast.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Start Your Day At 1.30 PM!

Good morning, my readership! So far, there is absolutely nothing going on in my life except for the entirely all too existent, all too inevitable cloud of doom and gloom following me around and reminding me every single chance it gets that "it's coming! It's coming!" Because, yes, PMR is but a stone's throw away, if PMR was a location and I were discussing distance, and, yes, in retrospect, quitting blogging cold turkey was probably not the best idea ever because I regret it now that it's way too obvious how badly this has affected my writing. My skillz. My talent.

The last time I updated was God knows when but don't worry. So far, there's nothing interesting going on at all. I've been planning for the future as always, enjoying moments too precious for my brain to recall (and this is another reason I regret neglecting this blog), and spending about half my time at school in the library doing unproductive things (not studying, at all), or in the PR studying (at least). It's been constant hourly texts of "Study!" from Maze, discussions as to the subjects we're all worried about (BM does seem to be at the forefront of most of these discussions) and on the other end of the spectrum, there's also talking about what we can't wait to do after PMR. It's a flimsy, shimmery, not-all-there sort of happiness, like anticipation, but not anticipation for something to go right, more like anticipation for something to go wrong but for the forces of the universe and God to fix it up and make it all better at the end of the day. So it's like expecting the worst and only the worst to happen, but in a very positive and optimistic way. 

It was Nisa's birthday on Monday and while God knows she annoys me with her level of hypocrisy on most days, I did give her a present and if you were stupid enough to check my blog on that day, you would have noticed the James Franco and Tom Felton background. It's funny, and I would say ironic if I wasn't scared of misusing the word (and at any rate, rereading this I've come to realize that it's in no way, shape or form ironic at all), how much she talks about Tom Felton now because when I talk about Chris Colfer, she would just roll her eyes? Or not care? There aren't many people who actually do care, just quite a lot who pretend to, which really puts things in perspective for me, awesome-companions-wise. I really do have awesome companions. But back to what I was saying, and that is that Nisa is not included on my list of awesome companions and I used to think she should find a hobby or something, anything at all, that she can be passionate about as much as I'm passionate about Chris but now that she has, I find it bafflingly annoying. Maybe she rolls her eyes because Chris is gay? And for the most part, I've always thought that was it. Maybe she rolls her eyes because Chris doesn't supply his fans with pizza? (Bafflingly, as I have figured out from the red lines underneath, is not a word, but no matter).

So that's my obligatory, good Samaritan/good friend post about Nisa's joyous occasion. My results, you ask? Well, they're great. I mean, some people wouldn't consider 8A's great, but I've never really met those people before, so. I did terribly for my PE (79) so that grabs me the ninth spot in class, which is really so much better than the eleventh (remember last year?) so I really am in no position to complain. The only reason I have to complain is that they've somehow come up with this bogus idea that PE is a crucial subject, crucial enough to count in the GPA. But I did get the second highest in class (to Divyia), if we're counting Core 7, so that makes me happy and fuzzy and warm and feel like just another second place, common place loser again, but I don't know about you, but second sounds so much more promising than ninth!

I talk about myself too much. But I can't help it. I am scared, I'll be the first to admit. I am scared and this close to pissing my pants and everything, from signing our we-have-read-the-rules-of-PMR-examination-taking-and-we-swear-to-follow-them forms to Mantap Minda (I am in all the A classes, thank God for that! I would imagine being put in anything less would be embarrassing, but then again, to be at the top, one's going to have to face the fact that there's people at the bottom too) to, well, every single time someone so much as mentions the word PMR, makes me dizzy and angry and so, so, so scared. Objectively, and I try to put things as objectively as I can, I know I got really good BM marks this year. Not buy-me-diamond-earrings-as-a-present good, not even top of the class good because Dharani beat us all out in BM for trials, but 86! 86 sounds pretty darn good to me, especially considering I would have just been fine (maybe not fine, but resigned and on-the-surface content) with an 80. 

My fear of failure has always been irrational, considering the fact that whenever I fail, others always fail more spectacularly than I do. And PMR! That's taking into account the intelligence of all the fifteen (and almost fifteen) year olds in Malaysia and setting an A against their results as well the results of the people from my school. I don't know much about anything, but I've been to Facebook and I've seen some of these people's blogs. To set an A against their results? Doesn't sound like much of a challenge. And yet there's this ever present fear that I can't shake off. It's not like I haven't taken more than my fair share of exams and tests. 

We're all scared. (But of what?)

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