Friends are God’s way of taking care of us.

I can’t. I just simply can’t anymore. Cannot. You hear that? If my consciousness were to be transfigured into a physical form it would just look like a Space Mountain rollercoaster ride; you can’t see where you’re going, don’t know where it’ll zoom to next, and at every single turn you’re bound to get a sick, nauseating feeling rising from your guts. I want to hit ctrl-alt-del-esc so badly, but I can’t seem to find the fking buttons.

& yea, I’m not that happy, shiny girl you think that I am. Deep down, I’m really all just dark and twisty and a bottomless pit of confusion and conflicted emotions and damanged and broken and can’t be repaired and will probably stay in this awful, damanged and irreparable state because no one wants to fix a headstrong, wilful Ice Queen that makes you hack away at the walls forever or someone who is so frightened of letting people in that she tests everyone again and again and again until she herself is sick and tired of it and is left forever alone fending off non-existent attackers with her heart firmly shackled in a treasure chest.

I hope you’re happy.

We’re slowly hurtling towards the end; this is Week 12, and before we know it, the exams will be upon us. How did time pass me by so fast? It feels just like the movie that gets you so absorbed; so consumed and so engulfed that you find yourself surprised when you get to the end. Every day is almost tantamount to fighting a battle; one day down is one day’s victory. But this war is half won, and if it were up to me, I’d nail this the most spectacular fashion and celebrate my triumph with lots of retail therapy.

Keep your head up, chin high, and stride on. Be the proud soldier that you know you are, and let the world see the splendour in your eyes. March on, with a glad heart, and take comfort in the knowledge that you’re the one who kept it shipshape.