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a predatory disappointment. I just want to die right now. The paper was so much easier than what I got for Paper 8 last year and I couldn't write anything decent to save myself, mediocrity flowed from the nib of my pen and I knew what to say and I didn't know what to write and I hate how I single-handedly blew it right out of the water and how I screwed up the only chance I had of getting out of this country and doing what I love but how can I even profess to love something I'm so bad at? A poem by William Wordsworth, one that Azrul did and I even read his essay last night, and another by W. H. Auden and I was supposed to do a comparison but I had no idea how to go about doing it, I forgot everything, I wrote two and a half pages and I've never written that little and I couldn't get into it at all no matter how hard I tried and forced myself to keep writing but the shit that I wrote, it was so bad, so disgustingly bad, it wasn't even mediore, it was bad through and through, and that essay, I couldn't even write an essay that basically asked me to write about poetry, what was I thinking when I wrote that last paragraph? This is killing me right now. Everything is wrong. I just want to forget.
before sunrise // before sunset
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