Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard.
Where anything goes.
-//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7
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Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard. Where anything goes. -//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7 |
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Friday, October 03, 2003 Posted late in a moment of sensibility. So. Prelims over. For real. Yay. My celebrations consisted of spending lavishly on another bowl of ramen for myself at that great restaurant I recommended. Haha ... to think that the person whom I believe is the store manager, whom I've never seen before, actually got worried about me having my fill of chilli. Well, I certainly showed him ... though after 30 minutes, at least, when the temperature of the food was slightly less. So much so that upon leaving, he was sufficiently pleasant, not to mention unoccupied, to have a short conversation of the nature of customers at the place. Heh. I suppose chilli without temperature isn't really much, if you've tried drinking cold curry or laksa before. Well, not that cold. But that's where the pleasure ends (it always ends with me), or perhaps, it never really started. Happiness can't exist without confidence. Which was why I was suitably, suitably (and probably deservingly) depressed when I became the first student to receive their Lit S papers two days after doing it. From Mr. Purvis, who is definitely not someone to discuss or bargain with. Initially, my fear was that he would blast me for simply writing horribly, though I've certainly done that before and he's expressed his dissatisfaction with terms like "naff", "trite", "daft" and "readers' digest" (don't ask...). Instead, he promptly handed my paper to me ... and told me to type it out because he couldn't read it. And he was right. Sigh. I wouldn't mind typing it out, or writing it out in primary school penmanship fashion as a punishment, but what I really couldn't bear was all the colourful lines of crimson all over the first page. That being, I tried to be pleasant and mitigate his obvious dissatisfaction by saying, well, something apologetic, but yes, there is no "mitigating" in him and he went away noticeably displeased. So much for the "Shakespeare expert" at S level, huh? Which might explain why now, despite the euphoria experienced by most upon (temporary) release from the bondage of examinations, I have fallen into a doleful melancholy, necessarily accompanied by a sickness of the heart and the head. Simply, some kind of gastric flu (which I certainly hope isn't the result of the chilli ...) accompanied by what could better be described as "epilepsy", migraines in the head inducing me to stare fixedly in a certain direction for minutes at a go. Or the "revenge of Silas", whichever way you might want to see it. To think that in my delusion I was sitting on the edge of the window dangling over the side, hoping it would shock me into sensibility, but only had the effect of pondering whether or not to shuffle off this mortal coil. Retribution. posted by Charlotte | 4:49 pm
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Disclaimer : The Slayers and Filia Ul Copt and all images thereof are the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. I don't own any of them, although if I had a choice I would want Filia ... ~//n_n\\7 |
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