Saturday, October 25, 2014

Another lip-biting news

I mean, c'mon. Give it a rest, pest. You wanna know why we don't seem to like you people? If you don't, would ya? Cause i'm dying to tell.

Let me start over.

I'm a third-year trainee teacher at an institution so messed up, i can't even. Okay, get it? So finals is approaching. Classes are over and it's Deepavali weekend so most of us are back home. Except for our East Malaysia friends of course. They always stay because, well, no point going back and forth when holiday is in a month, right?

So anyway. This is that time of the year we'd like to call 'study week'. It's a few weeks before finals begin and we'd have this time to recuperate, get together with classmates, have discussions, study group or study solo, whatever, you know. Just, our own free time. No one cares what we do as long as we show up for our papers. Which is, really, the only thing that matters.

Now came along our new papa, big guy on campus. I don't think any other lecturer would've suggested anything to him. No. This big idea must've come from him. Now the new rule wants us, KIDS we are, to be on campus ground and in CLASSES or LIBRARY during this whole study week period. When classes are already over. (Let me answer that question you didn't ask; yes, he wants us to spend 6 mind-numbingly boring hours in class just for the sake of being in class.)

My (insert curse here) papers are, give or take, FOUR WEEKS away!

So now, they are threatening absentees with a RM50 fine. Ah, what a life. I feel like i should write a novel about this, or something.

At the time this was written, i don't know if i'm following the rules or rebelling. I've always thought i'm kind of a rebellious person you know?

Friday, October 24, 2014

rant

I need to rant and f it, i don't care anymore. I need an outlet and if you don't wanna read this, feel free to leave a message with someone who gives a furry rat's behind. Thanks.

Where do i begin? I can't even (Insert muffled rage here). First of all, hats off to the wonderful people who's doing some wonderful job up there. You are really something. Second, . Actually, i don't have a second one. I am mad, ostentatiously so, which makes me mad at every outcome which has been produced as a result from the handiwork of the aforementioned people. This is starting to sound like gibberish, and it is purposefully done that way so that i wouldn't have to explain this should this come blowing up in my face at a later date. Plausible deniablity.
 
All that crap about we should be happy for other people's fortune is just that; crap. Especially when we were dreaming for the exact same fortune only to be snatched away by someone who probably doesn't even realised how easy they have it. I sound petty right now. Crap. I don't f-ing care anymore! You can make me however you like it to be.

I'm not happy. It's killing me inside. I can't wait to be outta that place one year from now. I've made some great friends, but some really crappy memories too. And running is what i do best. Not because i'm a coward. No. I refuse to be called that. It's because i can't wait to be on my own, do my own thing.

The saddest part about that is, nobody, f-ing, cares.
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