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, October 6, 2011

Rest For the Wicked

So PMR. Well, PMR was great. I guess. I don't know. I mean, there were tears and... well, let's just say nine papers have passed and I don't think I put my all into even a single one of them. Some people, they get really antsy and nervous right before exams and start flipping through reference books like crazy and firing questions left and right. I just sort of stand there, waiting for something to happen. Maybe I'm letting it all stew in my brain? Maybe I'm calming myself down? Maybe it's just an overall slog of laziness that I can literally feel in every single bone in my body, telling me that I haven't done enough but what's the point in doing something now? It's not bad, I think. I mean, maybe later on I'll look back at all the tears shed and... laugh? But really, mostly, I'm just frustrated that I have to do this in the first place.

Get up. Last minute cramming. Gallery. Last minute cramming. Announcements. Lining up in front of the Form 1 classes. Not much last minute cramming but a whole lot of God-knows-what-we-were-talking-about-but-it-definitely-wasn't-anything-educational with Nisa, Hanna and Nadiah. Enter the hall. Finish first paper. Break and last minute studying. Finish second paper. Head to the canteen. Mother sends food. Eat. Last minute cramming even though nothing's really going in and most of the time, I just flip through the books, staring at words and having them stare back at me. Finish final paper of the day. Come home, do shit, sleep and lather, rinse, repeat. It's maddening. 

But I'm trying not to dwell on things too much, something I've always wanted to do since forever but I haven't quite gotten there yet. A lot of happy things happened because God knows I can't go a day without laughing. On the second day (which was by far my favorite), Nisa stopped us in the middle of one of our fits of laughter and was like, "Whoah, PMR." Because it doesn't really feel like it. Not really. It's a big exam, sure, but what with the pressure that they've put on us, this feels just like... another normal test to me? And, I don't know, the whole Standardized Nationwide Examination thing just sort of didn't matter to me anymore after the first day. And that is why I think my first day went so badly. I'll go into that later. And today, Hanna was like, "We are not PMR students," because for some reason, we just couldn't stop laughing and crapping around in the canteen. Anyways, here's the rundown of what went on, as far as I can remember. There's loads more (good and bad) but if I've forgotten them, then it's just as well.

Monday started off with my head feeling like it was about to explode. I don't even want to look at the first paper again and I'm hoping I won't have to in my lifetime or ever. In the morning, Encik Alias stopped by and told Khairin (but whatever I overheard anyway) not to panic because the questions were somewhat similar to what we've been doing the whole year. Surely they were. Surely they should be. They're not. To be honest, I don't know whether this is just the nerves talking or what, but I much preferred last year's. Or, I don't know. Maybe I'm getting a little too ahead of myself because fact of the matter is, I don't know how much I scored. Regardless of that the second paper was a disaster.

And you'd think that it wouldn't be, right? Because I have done the Bahagian B thing over and over and over again and written it down and in my head and reread it over and over again. And the Bahagian C was the easiest piece of crap ever. But I don't know what happened. I panicked. I just couldn't write. This happens sometimes when I'm writing a story. I just stop. And can't think and I know, I know each and every single bit of my content but I just couldn't put it into words. So I wasted like fifteen minutes. Shit. (Rest assured, I cried a little. And then when I got home, I showered, called my mother to ask her to buy me something to eat, put the phone down and said, "All right, it's time to cry now," and cried for another hour or so. I don't think I actually did that bad but I don't know. I'm very conflicted on the matter. I can't listen to myself, I'm too negative. I can't listen to everyone else, they're too positive. So I'm just going to listen to Chris?). 

Islamic Studies presented no challenges and I am optimistic to a certain extent, that extent being that I'd just rather not think about it and pray I'm going to get an A. I always say that Islamic Studies, out of every other subject, is a subject I'm a shoo in to get an A for, but I'd rather not take my chances on being big headed. It was a good paper, though.

Thank God for the second day. The depressing cloud of doom and gloom from BM was still following me but English 1 was a nice reprieve and English 2 was just me crapping a lot but at least my sentences make sense so I don't really care. Big break and got a nice full meal of mac and cheese and it was glorious (until I got home and my stomach started making these weird flippy floppy noises. Apparently, it doesn't agree with the amount of food I've consumed that day). Got all righteous on Nadiah because of That Thing She Did. I will be righteous all I want. I'm forced to go to that school and honor it may be, I've been saddled with the "job" of being a prefect, so as far as I'm concerned, I can say whatever I want to say.

Geography was good. 

Science was surprisingly easier than I thought it would be. Well, Paper 2 was, at any rate. I think I derped my way through some of the Paper 1 questions but I truly thought Paper 2 was going to be harder, because of last year's paper and some of the other states' trial papers. I think I was going somewhere with this but I started streaming this week's Glee and I pressed pause at the start and it's that scene from a few episodes ago when Will and Emma are waking up to each other in bed and now I am horrified and I have a headache and I just want to finish this paragraph. 

History was a mixture of "I want to get this over with" and "I know I'm supposed to study something but I don't know what". Don't worry about that last one, though. Minutes later with the History paper in front of me, I figured out exactly what I should have studied. So it all worked out in the end. Plus, the paper wasn't all that hard. I mean, I'm not getting a hundred but then again it's History and I got a 76 for midterms so I think it's going to be all right? And now here I am, streaming Asian F. 

Prefects have to go for this Dare to Speak public speaking course thing next Friday and Saturday. It's compulsory. Once again, like with the end-of-the-year camping thing, Hanna whined her head off and I was just, "This is shit." Because, technically, it is shit, considering the fact that not only had Hanna and I scheduled our much-postponed PR picnic that Friday, we are also having my Chris Colfer Appreciation Weekend that Saturday. We worked it out, though. Having Chris Colfer Appreciation Sunday instead. But where I was going with this was that by now, I sort of expect these things to happen in my life and all I can do is keep calm and work my way around it. Like I said, it's the price you've got to pay.

In conclusion, I cry too much and I don't know whether I actually have cause for worry or whether my irrational mind's just playing tricks on me again. Either way, I miss Chris Colfer, or rather, I miss spending hours on end staring at pictures of him. Not that PMR has been a hindrance to that so once again, let me rephrase that by saying that I miss spending hours on end staring at pictures of him without feeling guilty because I should be studying instead.

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