fuck.
If I don't study properly i get okay results, If I do put my ass on the bench and pick up a book staring at it for many months before the exams it all goes to shit with a dog being fucked sideways up a tree.
fuck.
I'm crying now. And i don't mean my usual metaphoric way either. Hot tears are streaming down my cheeks. Okay, well, not hot... just warm salty droplets of that sinking feeling of failure. And ask anyone that knows me for years and years and years. I have never... I repeat: NEVER cried for something like this. It had always bounced off me. Heck... the only other time i cried was because my foot hurt like the buggery and i couldn't walk.
fuck.
I have this to say to the head of examination departments and the fucktards who marked my papers: I don't know what you did to get your knickers in a twist but FUCK YOU.
fuck fuck fuck.
I stopped crying but the feeling that you're a worthless piece of prat with no purpose is lingering. It's stabbing me in between my shoulder blades just where i can't reach so i can't pull it out. Stabbing me and twisting the blade. Writhing pain shooting up, the feeling of convulsion is in abundance but pukeage is unnecessary. Poetic isn't it? Pain... how much can one write about a certain kind of pain. *sigh*
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