Chinese and other stories
written: 6:44 p.m. on Friday, Mar. 05, 2004

I ended up getting an A2.

Seriously, I think there was some mistake with the printing of my grade as I still haven't figured out what happened. We all know that my Chinese sucks. I can't speak Mandarin like a proper Chinese, I can't even understand half of Jay Chou's more complex lyrics, and I need my mom to translate my words when talking to my dad.

It's... I just... I'm still quite overwhelmed, truth be told. I mean, like, okay, we no longer need our mother tongue grades to get into the university, but my wanting to get good grades have never been anything practical, like, I don't know, my reasonings and my drive are more or less for reasons related to pride and prestige. Yes, hell, I'm shallow, but that's the way it is, and now I have a distinction on my A Level certificate.

And fuck, it feels damn freaking good.

And I will continue with this later on. Going out for dinner. I haven't even changed! Haha.

**

8.22 p.m.

Back from dinner. Confession. I'm trying very hard to break away from this online journal as I have realised that what matters even more is that I'm completely honest with myself, and I find that I can only do so when I write in my private diary. Here, I'm sub-consciously aware that my words would be judged by people who don't know me, which is a huge reason why I deleted the entry that I deleted that other day (I did save it though, of course). I am too much of a braggart and when I fail, my words will come back and bite me in the arse, and whoever reads this will know about it, and I'm too proud for that.

And I also discovered something rather intriguing. The quality of my writing seems to have an inverse relationship with the number of online posts I make... in case I'm getting the mathematical allusion thingy here all wrong, in simpler terms, I seem to write worse and worse with every entry I add in here. Marginal productivity is decreasing at an increasing rate, which is why I need to take this elsewhere. More specifically, I need to bring it back to myself again, for this IS about me and no other, and I'm doing this for myself. I need to write well. It's all I have. And right now, I'm totally dissatisfied with the lousy quality of my writing. And no, I don't care what people say. I didn't even think that my GP essay was well-written in any way. Yes, it was lengthy and I had a lot of examples, but the writing, the diction, the style, it was all very, very mediocre.

I need to find my own voice, and I don't think I can do it here. In fact, I know I can't.

And hello, where the hell else would I actually write in Chinese but my own diary, right? Especially since I'm too damn lazy to input one painful Chinese character by one in here. Takes way too long and I don't have that kind of patience.

Having that said, I'm not gonna neglect this completely, simply because it's been with me through thick and thin for almost three years, and really, one should never mess with a history as long as that. It's just that updates will most likely be sporadic and not very frequent. Not much of a big deal lah. This diary sucks anyway.

Oh yeah, I've been wanting to do a Singlish entry for the longest time, but eh, not today.

Anyway, this day started off pretty badly. First thing in the morning who was to go up to the announcement platform and make an announcement but the biggest asshole I've ever encountered? Looking at him now makes me very, very angry, and since hell hath known no fury like a woman scorned, that is not a very positive thing at all.

But I'm not even giving that much of a toss anymore. I'm trying hard to replace anger and hatred with pure indifference, and it's working, nevermind that it's a little slow, but progress is, after all, progress.

Why do I care? Because it was a serious blow to my pride. I want my cold-as-ice, unfeeling, bitchy persona back. I've realised, after two failed relationships (well, of course, considering I'm not even 18) and a few unreciprocated crushes that went a little too far, that no man/guy/male is ever worth feeling inadequate for. I don't need a man to make me feel complete. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, men, with the exception of my friends, can just piss off and die. (Yes, how eloquent, but fuck it, my brother's music is too loud for me to think properly.) A fleeting thought of turning lesbian actually crossed my mind but why do I have to sacrifice my natural sexual orientation for a few worthless assholes?

Hmm, still reeling from the A2. Yes, I will stop harping about it but before I do that, can I just repeat that I am very, very overwhelmed? Ha.

Truthfully, I'm not much of a feminist. I just refuse to subscribe to the notion that a woman needs a man to complete her, because that's bullshit. I am reasonably intelligent (though not a genius), and thus, I am certainly capable of surviving on my own. I can meet my own demands, I can provide for myself, and thus, I don't need another person to pacify me. In fact, I can't understand why some girls/women find it so depressing that they are single, especially intelligent ones.

Oh, I don't know. It's not my damn problem anyway. Not my business that other people happen to be weak. Who gives a toss. I need to finish this. Yeah, I barely passed my Econs test on market failure and I was quite upset about that, since it's quite a steep plunge from a 16/25 for essay to a measley 13, but I think about it somemore, and I actually got lucky, considering I didn't even know what a demerit good was. That's pretty stupid, but I shan't delve into that as I haven't got the time. Mom wants to wash my uniform so I have to go take a shower now.

Seriously, I hate my writing. I don't know how else to describe it, other than it totally sucks. Ack, whatever. I'm off.

before sunrise // before sunset

Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010