Last graded research paper ever - and I wanna die.
written: 3:52 p.m. on Thursday, Apr. 30, 2009

1,107 words, and I honestly have no idea what I just wrote. In fact, I don't even think I've written anything. WHAT THE FUCK. Why is it that I keep writing these stupid things without actually saying anything?

Oh right, I'm padding. To the max. Because I'm not familiar with the topic and can't fall back on my recycled "rule of law rah rah rah" bullcrap.

JHUGAR GHUAHJSGHKA

I'M SO SICK OF THIS. I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M STILL STUCK AT HOME WRITING A FUCKING RESEARCH PAPER AFTER THE LONGEST FUCKING TIME. WHAT THE FUCK.

Oh yeah, and all thanks to the new flu "epidemic" that has everyone pissing their pants in fear, my Beijing trip isn't likely to fly anymore. I'm not all that bummed because I don't mind playing tennis once every two days in Singapore (I SERIOUSLY need to work off all the excess fats I ate into my body all those nights when I was watching TV at 10 and felt like eating and gave in to my random craving for chips and ice-cream - OMG WHAT THE HELL WAS WRONG WITH ME. MY MENTAL WEAKNESS MUST DIE), and I also don't want to miss the Madrid tournament, and I also don't want to miss out on voting Kris into the final 2; but, on the other hand, JUST as I FINALLY convinced myself that I should go to China for a multitude of reasons, this swine flu thing has to happen.

What has it got to do with China, right? I don't even know. But my parents are paranoid, and the nature of paranoia is such that it is senseless. How does one fight against senselessness? Only when the "epidemic" is over, which isn't going to be within the next four weeks, I think.

How wonderful. I wasn't even wanting to go to China, and was actually excited about going to Beijing. Alas, I guess it is not to be.

But I can't even think about it. I hate people bothering me with decisions when I'm in a middle of a paper, like "do you want to go to XXX" or "should we go to XXX" or "when do you want to go to XXX". I'm like, leave me alone, I can't deal with these questions, my brain isn't even functioning. I need to be left alone when I'm trying not to fall asleep over a paper that I don't feel like writing, one that's due, oh, in a little over 24 hours' time, and so when people are asking me ten million questions I get super irritated.

Have I mentioned I'm singularly and chronically single-minded? Because, yeah, I am.

Thus, I told my parents to stop asking me "Beijing how? Want to go?" until I've submitted my paper tomorrow night. Because, seriously? I don't even know. I can't even think. In the first place I don't even know what the bloody shit I'm writing into my paper and I just want to die and this whole semester has been weekend after weekend, week after week of deadlines and submissions and I'm SO DAMN TIRED. It sucks to high heavens. And I'm wasting my time writing this stupid entry.

I love Roger. I love Kris. I love David. I love Andy.

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