Hello Michelle, guess what?
You're officially a damned Sec 4!
You're in a friggin Sec 4 class of 4C3 and guess what too? You're the bloody oldest in the entire student population of Crescent, you just happen to be everybody's senior! What the hell! And guess what? You just so happen to be able to rejoice in these few days of acting like you're a Sec 4 and going around to boss everyone before you recieve your overall grade and find: OH GOD, you failed English, so sorry - you're gonna have to get retained and repeat the entire course of Sec 3 - for another year! Or even better, get expelled by Crescent! Isn't that utterly fabulous?

But hell, guess what? Remember last year when you thought to yourself: GOD, I landed myself in a triple science class of nerds so I'm not going to survive and I'm gonna drown myself in the school Eco-Pong within 7 days? Guess what? You didn't! Not just because it was dirty and it was still under renovation but also because you found that your classmates aren't as nerdy as you thought they were. Except that you took 3 friggin days to find out, mainly because there was homework only after 3 days, and guess what? You found that there were actually people in your class whom - OMG, didn't do the work!!! Which was one of the most fantastic things you found in your new class, so you just so happened to not feel like drowning yourself in one week, just after the first test. But guess what too? The first test was a math test, and it just so happened to be a test that your Sec 2 math teacher set, meaning - he taught them somehow, and you decided to be nice and pay attention to his lesson on indices. And guess what? You just so happened to fortunately score 18 in that test - thanks to your math teacher whom you should dearly appreciate - and you thought that you didn't have to study for the rest of the year. Were you correct? No, you godammned weren't. But guess what? It doesn't matter now, why? Because you've friggin ended your Final Years, and guess what? Look forward to more next year! Provided you don't get retained or kicked out, of course.
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Hello Michelle, guess what?
Enjoy these two days of not having to go back to the friggin yellow school on the green hill and when you go back, try to avoid looking at faces of teachers, because you sure as hell am gonna get bloody disappointed faces looking back at you.
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Hello Michelle, guess what?
You haven't bowled from 30th August since. Wow. I wonder if you've forgotten. Wait, I'm sure you've forgotten. You are Michelle, afterall, aren't you? Michelle never remembers anything important. Michelle never does anything stupid like that. Its all crap and dust in her brain, so it doesn't matter anyway. Honestly, Michelle, don't bowl for the league, don't. You'll just hell as embarrass yourself at SSC and you'll never be able to regain your pride there, no matter whatever you do to save it.
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Hello Michelle, guess what?
You hell as need to get a life right now. You hell as need to get some sleep right now. You hell as need to throw away your crappy notes right now. You hell as need to relax right now. You hell as need to arrange an appointment for a day out with your mum right now. You hell as need to lose some godamned weight right now. You hell as need someone to assauge your pain right now. You hell as need to read a damned book right now.
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Hello Michelle, guess what?
You have a date with someone for lunch. Damn. Try not to get too pissed off. It happens. Remember your blood pressure.
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Hello Michelle, guess what?
You should look into the mirror and see those eyebags. Then you should freak out and rest. And you should really stop typing this damned post. And you should really really stop swearing in this post, because you hell am irritated, but for god's sake, don't show your damned ability at swearing.
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Hello dear readers, guess what?
Thanks for staying till now to read, even though I'm quite sure many people would have left when I was cursing earlier. Promises made to you, my dears, that I'll have an uber-long post in-between Tuesday and Wednesday, since its Marking Days. And I'll include one month's worth of tag replies, so don't worry. I won't get you to check back in, you can get yourself to do that. So long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye. I need to rest my crappy brain now.
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“You have no soul,” he teased her.

“You’re right,” she answered soberly. “I didn’t think it showed.”

“You’re only playing word games now.”

“No,” she said. “what proof have I of a soul?”

“How can you have a conscience if you don’t have a soul?” he asked despite himself – he wanted to keep things light, to get back onto a better footing after their last episode of moral wrestling and estrangement.

“How can a bird feed its young if it has no consciousness of before and after? A conscience, Yero my hero, is only consciousness in another dimension, the dimension of time. What you call conscience I prefer to call instinct. Birds feed their young without understanding why, without weeping about how all that is born must die, sob sob. I do my work with a similar motivation: the movement in the gut toward food, fairness and safety. I am a pack animal wheeling with the herd, that’s all. I’m a forgettable leaf on a tree.”
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