Sometimes I feel like I'm running a race that I'll never end. I know I've blogged about school for sometime, and that I've whined repeatedly about my fears for school, but nothing preprared me for this amount of work. This amount of... stress.
I don't know. MAybe it's part of uni life, you know, getting used to all this nonsence. The fact that you are always worrying about something or other, the fear that something remains incomplete. The worry that has carved a permanent hole that now seeks to constantly be refilled with more worries. It's a vicious cycle, and amidst all of this, I'm struggling to keep my head afloat, to keep it from going under. Still waters run deep, they say, except that in this case, the water isn't still but its still deep. The waters are turbulent and disturbing, and with each wave they threaten to drown those who keep their heads afloat. And I'm clinging on, hoping that something will come my way that will buoy me up and provide a short, temporal relief.
Strangely enough though, it seems that I'm a lot calmer this semester. I remembered how I still struggled to prevent myself from cracking, and I did crack in class once (Oh God I still remember the faces of the people in my table, but mortification aside..). I'm not sure if this inability to crack is a good or a bad thing anymore, to be honest. Socially, it's a good thing. I'm keeping myself from falling apart so I exude a more refined, perhaps less rickety demeanour this sem. Yet sometimes it worries me, this calmness, because I'm not sure if it's because I 1. have gone beyond the ability to break down or 2. the fact that I will break down sometime later in the sem and that it's going to be worse that whatever I might have seen so far. It scares me.
"Hey Ju", I hear a voice and I turn around. It's my friend, and I smile and wave, because that's what I've been taught is socially acceptable. To be polite. To be nice to your friend. Singa the Lion says you must be courteous. So that's what I do, because its a mechanical action but for which, in my opinion, has lost its meaning.
" How's your essay?" she asks, and I respond with a nod and a smile. A smile that conceals a grimace. "So-so. Haven't done much. Don't know what he's asking for in the essay also. Suka suka." I have learnt that that is the best way to reply. She doesn't see my grimace. Thank God, I say to myself.
The next question I was posed to ask would be one that kills me, I know, but I can't help it. I ask it anyway. "Oh, not much. I sacrificed this essay for the sake of another essay tha'ts more pressing. Yknow, sua la, get C then get C lo. Haha!" she says, with lying happy eyes. Lying, because you know that she's not telling the truth. Someday you and her will receive your results and she will act all surprised at the fact that she "scraped" ("I have no idea how I did this, seriously") an A. And it kills you, because you know that unlike her, you haven't just taken a "sua la" attitude with this essay. I turn away from her and from behind, I hear a soft murmur. I turn back to face her and in an instance, I see a set of fangs in my face. A soft hiss ensues. "You-" I say, but before I could continue, I felt a sharp tug along the based of my spine and then, turning around, I see a red liquid bubble from where the tip of the fangs made contact with my skin. I could see the droplets of this red liquid on the floor. One, two three, I was counting, before I felt myself being lifted off the ground. "It's not over yet", the creature murmured, its fangs still deeply embedded in the skin near my tailbone, from which now the blood was freely flowing. The creature, with me hanging from its fangs, swung around and in that instant, I saw, in those creature's eyes, the eyes of my friend. The same pair of lying, happy eyes that whisked by me as the creature let go of its grip and I fell to the ground.
I don't know. MAybe it's part of uni life, you know, getting used to all this nonsence. The fact that you are always worrying about something or other, the fear that something remains incomplete. The worry that has carved a permanent hole that now seeks to constantly be refilled with more worries. It's a vicious cycle, and amidst all of this, I'm struggling to keep my head afloat, to keep it from going under. Still waters run deep, they say, except that in this case, the water isn't still but its still deep. The waters are turbulent and disturbing, and with each wave they threaten to drown those who keep their heads afloat. And I'm clinging on, hoping that something will come my way that will buoy me up and provide a short, temporal relief.
Strangely enough though, it seems that I'm a lot calmer this semester. I remembered how I still struggled to prevent myself from cracking, and I did crack in class once (Oh God I still remember the faces of the people in my table, but mortification aside..). I'm not sure if this inability to crack is a good or a bad thing anymore, to be honest. Socially, it's a good thing. I'm keeping myself from falling apart so I exude a more refined, perhaps less rickety demeanour this sem. Yet sometimes it worries me, this calmness, because I'm not sure if it's because I 1. have gone beyond the ability to break down or 2. the fact that I will break down sometime later in the sem and that it's going to be worse that whatever I might have seen so far. It scares me.
"Hey Ju", I hear a voice and I turn around. It's my friend, and I smile and wave, because that's what I've been taught is socially acceptable. To be polite. To be nice to your friend. Singa the Lion says you must be courteous. So that's what I do, because its a mechanical action but for which, in my opinion, has lost its meaning.
" How's your essay?" she asks, and I respond with a nod and a smile. A smile that conceals a grimace. "So-so. Haven't done much. Don't know what he's asking for in the essay also. Suka suka." I have learnt that that is the best way to reply. She doesn't see my grimace. Thank God, I say to myself.
The next question I was posed to ask would be one that kills me, I know, but I can't help it. I ask it anyway. "Oh, not much. I sacrificed this essay for the sake of another essay tha'ts more pressing. Yknow, sua la, get C then get C lo. Haha!" she says, with lying happy eyes. Lying, because you know that she's not telling the truth. Someday you and her will receive your results and she will act all surprised at the fact that she "scraped" ("I have no idea how I did this, seriously") an A. And it kills you, because you know that unlike her, you haven't just taken a "sua la" attitude with this essay. I turn away from her and from behind, I hear a soft murmur. I turn back to face her and in an instance, I see a set of fangs in my face. A soft hiss ensues. "You-" I say, but before I could continue, I felt a sharp tug along the based of my spine and then, turning around, I see a red liquid bubble from where the tip of the fangs made contact with my skin. I could see the droplets of this red liquid on the floor. One, two three, I was counting, before I felt myself being lifted off the ground. "It's not over yet", the creature murmured, its fangs still deeply embedded in the skin near my tailbone, from which now the blood was freely flowing. The creature, with me hanging from its fangs, swung around and in that instant, I saw, in those creature's eyes, the eyes of my friend. The same pair of lying, happy eyes that whisked by me as the creature let go of its grip and I fell to the ground.
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