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.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Butter Fingers

I keep staring at my schedule for Friday to try to remember what happened last Friday and my mind honestly draws a blank. I don't think anything worth noting did happen and if it did, and if I have forgotten it, it is more my lost than anyone else's because I doubt anyone would... care. The really important thing about Friday was going to watch The Hunger Games for the second time with Ellie and two of her friends, which I've already written about so now I guess we could talk about the weekend.

But I didn't do anything during the weekend, not really. Maybe I sat around hating the world or something but that's just so common. I'm under this impression that something happened that weekend but what. I mean, I know I didn't go to my sister's, that was the week before, I think. I know I didn't go out. Or did I? I know I didn't... oh. It was that weekend.

It was the weekend in which I realized that I was absolutely out of my mind bored with everything I do on a daily basis because I don't, technically speaking, actually do anything on a daily basis. I sit around, watch the television if there's anything interesting on (which there rarely ever is) and if there isn't, then I'd watch anyway, I would eat and polish off everything I bought over the course of the week that's still stored in the fridge, I... sing aloud sometimes and hope nobody hears me. But basically that's my weekend. I don't know what I even do on Tumblr anymore, I just log on and look at how everyone's life is going (news: everyone's lives still suck). I mean, I update the blog, sure, but that's more out of a sense of obligation and most of the time gives me little to no pleasure whatsoever (sorry to offend you, blog). And homework, but who am I kidding, I don't actually do those until Sunday night (or Monday morning). I used to have fun reading fanfiction and doing all the things a regular teenage fangirl does but I don't really have anything to fangirl over now that my obsession with Glee has run its course (withered into a pitiable state).

So this was what got me into a pretty bad mood. But that wasn't the worst of it yet, of course. I discovered, to my sheer exultation (I mean, I don't know, did I use that word correctly), a bunch of Sherlock episodes that I had downloaded was still kept in my computer. Joyously, I decided to watch the second season again. It ended up being one of the most depressing weekends I've had in the year, which prompted me to try something crazy, just for the heck of it: have a look at the Sherlock fandom. I have scars. On my tear ducts.

Monday morning, I was in a bad mood. In fact, I was in a bad mood all through the week. I was still sick at the time, so it was probably about the fourth day in which I was not able to smell or taste anything and I was going sort of crazy by that point. The assembly, thankfully, was half aerobics (which was fun!) and I've long since gotten over the intense discomfort I have of being an incompetent prefect so who cares about that. The day's classes were boring. So boring. I wish I could say that something happened, something of great import, but once again, blank.

I guess it's just this week. Hold on. No. It's not just this week. It's everything. I feel like I need to have it all written down but nothing good ever comes out of me when I start typing. I feel like... normal people. People who can't manage to get their feelings across through words and have an inability to be eloquent about what they want. People who, when asked how their day went, stares at you in blank horror at the dawning realization of how few things are actually going on in their lives. People who can't crap their way through several paragraphs of nothing just to make it look like their blog is actually about something.

Actually, I take that last one back. The last paragraph was pretty useless. So let's talk about my marks. I would say that I'm fairly okay with it, even though I know they're good marks. It doesn't necessarily mean I am over the moon, but not in the way that I expected. I am not mad at myself for achieving what I have achieved because I know I could do better or something like that. I'm not mad at myself for not meeting my standards because I've thrown of all of that 'being the best' pretense or nonsense or whatever last year was. I am glad with my marks. I highly commend myself for my marks. If I could, I would give myself an award or a little tiny trophy for my marks, but that requires effort and an above and beyond level of crazy. I'm not there yet. But for the most part? Meh. It's only the first test of the year, of this syllabus, and I am not going to jump up and down (liar, you totally did that!) but I did good. I know I did.

I guess now I can just forget about it. People are starting to freak out over Midyear, can you believe it or not? But not all of them, because some of Those People (and by that, I mean the exam-obsessed people) are busy with SAEYLS and other stuff going on at school. I heard like some of Them talking about the uselessness of an education system. And yet you still... care? I don't know. I wish some higher power would allow me to police peoples' levels of hypocrisy and carry around a stamp with the word 'hypocrite' on it and stamp it on their foreheads. I wish I had the jurisdiction to do that.

Boring way to end a boring post.

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