random.
written: 9:36 p.m. on Tuesday, Jan. 18, 2005

If anyone is interested in the 14-year-old me, go here. It's hilarious; I'm reading it now. Talk about old memories being dragged back up the surface for dissection! And I'm inviting people to laugh at me!

I thought I'd add a proper entry after the previous one which was, obviously, solely dedicated to Jielun, since today's his birthday and all. You'd think that I'd outgrow such moronic bouts of teenybopperism, but fuck it, I can't be bothered.

I wanted to apply for the MAS Scholarship even though I know I wouldn't get it, but I don't know, I'm having severe second thoughts now. Okay, it's just an application, right? And it's free, so why not?

But I have to put three people down as character referees which is a huge pain in the ass, not just because I have no idea who the third person should be; more importantly, these people are going to know that I'd be rejected by the MAS and that is infinitely embarrassing. It's...seriously, let's all cue another of my pathetic "if only" moments: If only I had better prelim grades; if only I had a better CCA record; if only I had better O Level results; if only I'd gone to a better school.

Kill me. Now. Getting the scholarship is like getting a free bloody job. Why can't I have it? Why?

They're going to take one look at "Jurong Junior College" and press the 'delete' button. That, or they'd see my lousy CCA non-record and press the button. Even more likely, they'd see my atrocious O Level results, laugh and then press the 'delete' button, especially when Hwa Chong people will be applying with A1 A1 A1 A1 A1 A1 or AAAA. And me? A1 A2 A2 A2 B3 B3 B3 Dbleeding7, ABBE. Stupid Yelen, why did you make life difficult for your future self? The damn 14-year-old me. How I wish I could take all of it back.

But yes, regrets are uselss, but I still can't help but have them anyway. To hell with it; I'll just see what I feel like doing later on.

In other news, I went for a job sort of interview today. I still don't know what the company's doing, except some events planning thingy, and tomorrow I'd have to go all the way to bloody Aljunied at an ungodly and humanly impossible hour of 9 a.m. for some job training thingy that would determine whether I get the job or not. At this moment, I seriously don't feel like going. The two girls who were interviewed together with me are waiting for their O Level results, which should give one a pretty good gauge of the people that one would be co-existing with.

KIDS. Ugh. I'm sorry, but I am a total ageist and I am not apologetic about it in any way, shape or form. Why should I be? I received the same treatment from adults back then; now it's my turn for revenge!

Right. Honestly now, I saw a few ah bengs in the waiting room too, and ah bengs are total turn-offs. I'm not looking forward to it at all, but since the pay is advertised to be $500 a week, I'd try my darnest to keep an open mind.

Sigh. If only Mel were going with me, but no; she has other, more important engagements. At least someone's having fun.

Third topic: the mydeardiary thing. Argh the shit that I wrote! I can't believe that I typed in lower cases for a while. That's just amazing. And the grammatical errors! How mortifying, but it's hilarious so what the hell.

Okay, the truth: I'm only typing this entry because I wanna put off the decision of whether or not to fill out the damn application form. Fuck.

Oh, screw it. It's free so I guess I'll just do it.

Edit:

i don't care about my grades. they're nothing more to me than a bunch of meaningless digits on a white piece of paper lined with pompous words. my grades do not define my personality. my grades do not reflect my intelligence. my grades are not me. (Click.)

Believe it or not, anal retentive, shit-I-should've-got-a-46/50-for-GP-but-only-got-41, I-want-all-A's-or-my-life-is-over me wrote the above. Bwa, ha, ha ha ha ha ha.

Let me refine and update that.

I care about my grades. They are more to me than a bunch of meaningless digits on a white piece of paper lined with pompous words; they are, in fact, my ticket to going places in the real, somewhat boring and predictable world. My grades do not define my personality, but they do say something about it, especially when I was grotesquely under-performing in school and didn't give a fuck, be it whether I was genuinely apathetic or just plain lazy. My grades are not a complete reflection of my intelligence, but they are partial representations of my intelligence. Stupid people don't get A's; it's as simple as that. Well, then again, I guess if you slept with the chief examiner or whoever at Cambridge then you'd get an A even if your GP essay were full of factual and grammatical errors, but generally, stupid people don't get A's. It's a fact.

Yes, 14-year-old Yelen, I agree: your grades are not you. But who the fuck gives a flying fuck who 'me' is? God, for crying out loud, you messed up my goddamn life, forced me to semi-sleepwalk through Jurong Junior, and now I don't even have the reputed name of a school as a safety net, unlike before when it was CHIJ St. Nicholas Girls' School, which is infinitely more impressive than Jurong. I guess you'd hate me for selling out, but your stupid values were pretentious at best anyway. Who cares about artistic integrity when you weren't much of an artist to begin with? And if you think that I could survive my adult life as a starving, tortured writer...well, think again. How am I supposed to do my all-important bloody shopping? Use your brains! I'm sure you had some of those. What a shame you decided to completely waste them.

Your silly ideals only invite a snort from me now. Rebel against the system? Whatever the fuck for? Just so I'd end up here? I don't think so. Hindsight isn't 20/20 in this case; you were a bloody moron through and through. You'd choose not to go to school? Okay, go to hell then. People who don't go to school usually get pushed to the fringes of society; I'm sure you would've loved to belong there. STUPID RETARDED SPOILT BRAT. You had everything but you just didn't see. I don't care that you flunked Chem/Bio on purpose; I would've done the same anyway. But the not-studying was just...amazingly imbecilic and braindead.

Yes, you're so damn smart. I still know you, and I know that you would hate my guts; we'd die before we became friends. But guess what? I don't care. I'm ashamed you ever existed. I can trace my current state of failure back to time of your conception: 2000, right? The definitive year? Fuck, if you defined me, I'd shoot myself in the head right now. What right do you think you have to let your stupidity steer the course of my life and deprive me of the success and glory and prestige that I want and rightfully deserve?

If I could see you right now, I'd put my hands around your neck and strangle you; wipe you off from the face of the Earth, although you're already long gone; erase you from the records of History, because although you're already long gone, you still linger, around, somewhere...and it's disturbing.

I wish it didn't have to come to this, but it's too late to press the 'delete' button. It's over, I guess.

I don't freaking know. I just wish...

Oh, who cares. What the hell does it matter.

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