The reader accepts, on reading of this disclaimer, that the Internet is a vast wasteland of crap that spews out of human minds. This blog is no different. Any assumptions or conclusions that the reader draws from this blog are not the responsibility of the author, along with any physical or psychological harm that might result from the reading of this blog.
Author
The author is a paranoid, deranged and cynical misanthrope who records snippets of her life so that she will remember them when she grows old and withered. The identities of any names or initials on this blog are based on the assumptions of the reader unless otherwise specified, and the author claims no responsibility for them.
Reality
The author somehow got into medical school. Yes, you of the general public, shudder and fear the wrath of an inept doctor.
Loves
Reading, Maisy (my dog), tea, writing (albeit badly), piano, music, junk food.
Hates
Almost everything else besides the things mentioned above.
Friends
Bao Cheng' Bernice' Chien Young' Chun Hing' Claire' Faustina' Felicia' Ferly' Gloria' Irene' Irene & Jiaying' Jac' Jiamin' Jiasin' Jiaying' Lutheng' Karene' Marissa' Melesa' Mingyi' My fictionpress' Pamelia' Pei Rong' Qiu Ting' Rachel' Satires Site' Stasia' Sylvia' The Clique' Vinette' Wenjia' Xin Rong' Xue Ying' Yanne & I' Yanne & Jamie' Zeena' 203'
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Chat area
For some reason, I've been feeling frustrated, and experiencing serious mood swings.
Early in the morning, I had my weekly music lesson, and to my amazement, I was absolutely happy and played really well. Even my teacher was impressed, though I mutiliated Beethoven by changing it all to a major key. More or less, in the morning, my true spirit was just gone.
Then came the in class essay, which was quite alright except that my right hand suffered really bad cramps after scribbling 4 sides of full length A4 sized foolscap.
During Maths, the real 'me' started to kick in, full force with all the mood swings, depression, cynicism and what sh*t, causing my teacher to think I did not understand what he had written on the board (he was trying to draw something sideways) as I was clearly exercising my forehead muscles. Result: He drew it the right way up and went 'Jolene, it's like that'. Embarrassing, yes, as the whole class turned around to stare at me, and my friends were sniggering away.
Science was sh*t. I got scolded for putting the used test tube in the wrong rack for really, my concentration was just gone. This is the same teacher who screamed at us that she didn't want us ordering her around. How delightful.
Economics was equally bad. We had to do something about the services the government provides us with, and I more or less blanked out. Also, I got rather upset and uptight about my classmate who always copies my work as 1) I finish it faster 2) She can't be bothered 3) She thinks I'm some genius from outer space that will help her do her homework. On a typical day, I will even hand her my worksheet for I have absolutely no use for it after using it as toilet paper for my Lyra pencil. For some reason, my mood just went down like a train derailing and surging down a hill.
Psychology. The class was just starting on 'types of learners', of which we had done last year already. I got scolded for not copying down the notes (same teacher as the Biology one) and it was rather fortunate that I got off without a detention as she'd accepted my explanation that I had done it before. For some reason, she was in an especially good mood at the end of the day, which is the direct opposite of me. A coincidence?
Today's been very emotionally and physically draining, but for some reason, I just can't sleep. I'm feeling rather frustrated, but I can't get to the bloody crux of the whole damned problem. This has been going on for quite some time, and each time it happens, I get bad nightmares during the night. I can't find a way for me to escape from this hell; books no longer pose the same attraction as they did in the past, for I know that they allow me to dream, but dreaming takes me to the clouds, and when I awake, the wings are gone and there's nothing to help me from reality. It's the same with writing. I haven't been writing since last year, for somehow, I can't find it within me to do anything in this start of mind, when everything's mixed into a myriad of colours and my thoughts are a maelstrom. Perhaps what James Frey said in 'A Million Little Pieces' is true: There was this bit right at the front about a guy going to the mender, and asked the mender if the latter could mend something for him. The mender than asked how many pieces it was broken into, and the guy said 'A Million Little Pieces'. The mender then said that he could not help the guy, for a million pieces is way too many to pieces back together.
Maybe this jigsaw puzzle will end like many others: With a piece or two missing. After all, a million little pieces has been said to be impossible to piece back together...
11:32 PM