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the authoress
Everyone calls me Melissa cause thats my name.
I like to dance and eat and drool and ogle at hot bods and shop for pretty clothes and kick butts.
I think you'll like me if you get to know me.
Monday, August 11, 2008
[ 7:56 AM ]
Tomorrow's a big day for me.
Tomorrow has been the cause of nausea that rumbles in my stomach now and then.
Tomorrow has evoked a series of disturbing and petrifying dreams for the past few nights.
Tomorrow is the reason why ive fallen ill.
Chinese 'O' Level results and English 'O' Level Oral.
Actually, im more worried about the former.
Results.
'Whats done is done.'
'You cannot turn back time'
'There's no point crying over spilt milk'
These phrases of wisdom and logic make so much sense they fucking piss me off.
Because i want to be emotional, and illogical, and stupid, and bimbotic and whatever that allows me to reduce my grief by the teeny weeny bit.
What if i get a B3 tomorrow?
Will i collapse to the floor? Maybe not, its a little too melodramatic for my liking.
Will i start bawling? Maybe not, im too vain and image-conscious to let that happen.
Will i start weeping all of a sudden? Maybe 2 hours later? Or even better - during my English oral that follows after? Most probably.
I will cry.
Cry for not doing better.
Cry for not getting that question correct.
Cry for everything that has been done that cannot be undone.
Cry that time cannot be turned back.
Cry that spilt milk cannot be recollected.
Cry because disappointment and anger and frustration is making me explode.
This might be the last post of my life for all i know.
I may lose my sanity tomorrow.
I may commit suicide tomorrow.
I may pull all my hair out and start screaming like a mad woman, and get myself locked in a padded cell for all i know.
I may do well.
I want to do well.
I...
I..
I.