Sono qui....

Meeeeehhhhh vce.

 -.- -.- -.- 

 I'm sick of 'seeking' out approval from my teachers, from vcaa and all that. But hey, uni isn't going to be different, I guess. 

 Well....

 Let's talk deep things that I shouldn't talk about openly on this blog coz there is a time and place for everything and right now it is time to sleep and the place where this belongs is in my old, rejected diary which I've been coming back to irregularly since the Hong kong trip.

 This year so far is revealing itself to be much more difficult that it first permitted me to believe. 

 -.- 

Yah, I'm coming to that stage where I have the option of paddling for the next two hours to get to the shore, with only my head above the water so I can see where I'm going. I also have that option of retreating back into the waves and coming out of the water when I want.... Whether it be when I'm twenty that I decide I need a life. 

 Let's be honest. 

 My parents don't expect much from me.

 At all. 

 I am the only asian on the planet with the most unasian parents ever who actually do care about me. 

Sometimes I wish they didn't trust me so much to make my own decisions coz... I'm not mature enough to make my own decisions.

 I'll never be able to excuse myself if I have a crap atar, I can't be like, "oh my parents pressured me so much to do well that i failed."

 It's all up to me. 

Which is prob why I spend so much time blaming my school. I need to make use of what resources I do have from now on.

 well.... I guess it forces me to grow up, in one way. 

Nothing I do academically is ever really to please my parents... :/ 

 Life is a confusing hole.

 Haaaaaa like vce. 

 When I'm writing, I always think of words which I don't know well enough to actually use. 

Like right now. 

I'm thinking about epitome, expedient and presumptuous. 

It's annoying, coz besides epitome, I don't know what those words mean. 

But they're in my head. 

 I miss the days when I would stay up till late just to write stupid stories because I believed that I would become an author. 

When we went to sri lanka last time, (in grade 6), we were in a jewellery shop and Mum made me pick out a gold pendant to wear when I was past 16.

 I only just remembered this now. 

I remember looking through every symbol there was and not being able to make up my mind between a ballet shoe and a hand gripping a pen. I chose the hand, simply because I thought that if I chose it, my dream of becoming a famous author would become a reality, Like it was a spell that if I wore a pendant with a gold hand, it would be destined for me. 

 And here I am, In Vce english wondering how the hell to write an essay for language analysis, let alone a novel. 

 How life changes.

 I used to say I loved english and the arts and hated math and sciences.

 Lol. 

 I used to say, "you don't have to be good at something to love it; it is truly your passion when you dedicate yourself to improving." 

This is true of dance.

 I guess I was afraid. I was afraid that someone would tell me to stop dancing because I wasn't good enough. 

 Being good enough. 

 That's not what I care about.

 That's not what the pre-year12 me cared about. 

 I wonder if the people I met this year would still want to know the pre-year12 me.

 I was different. I was a better person and a worse competitor. 

I was meek and shy and didn't like socialising. Not really anyway. 

 What changed? 

The environment, I guess. I knew this would happen though - vce brings out the worst in me. 

Competition brings out the worst in me - when I am actually competing. Which I rarely do. I hate competition. I never run in cross country, I never really had my heart in dance festivals, I never really felt that thrill of beating someone else. It makes me feel evil rather than satiety. 

Joyed at the fact of someone's loss, is what mother called it. 

After vce, I'm "changing back". 

I had already agreed on this before the start of this year.

Yes, it will probably mean different groups of people.

But I liked the old me much better.

The me who noticed when people were hurt by what I said and beat myself up about it.

That girl who didn't babble everytime she spoke. 

The girl who wasn't noticed by boys... or girls really. The girl who had hardly any friends but treasured them all. 

I miss being able to walk around the city like I used to- by myself.

I would buy a notebook from typo and write the way I would imagine my life as a writer - the way Rowling must have on the trainride when she thought up my beloved. :D

LOL i'm not kidding - I have done this. At one point. I'll get that link and put it here soon: 

Anyway, point is, I can't do that anymore.

There are always people I know out and about. 

It's like an involuntary however inevitable deprivation of freedom.

  It is funny how the minute you stop waiting for karma to get them back, It happens and you don't care anymore.

 It is funny how you can be so close to someone then a few wrong words can rip away everything you had.

 There is so much repetition in my entries; I need to start using new ideas. i've been typing for half an hour. :)

My blog is very self-indulgent writing. I don't know why anyone would bother to read it.