That feeling when maths requires you to write essays to prove why two angles in a circle are equal. I’m so done with circle geometry. Geometry in general. Where am I going to use tangent theorems? Please enlighten me.
My handwriting has become so ugly because of the HSC. I used to pride myself on my penmanship. Now, I wish my markers luck trying to decipher the hideous scrawl attempting to convey my understanding of Metropolis or 1984 or Trotsky’s significance to national and international history.
Actually no I take that back. Teachers examine us in the cruelest of ways. My handwriting is connotative of the emotional pain and suffering. They can deal with it.
On another note, a friend who cares for my sanity throughout trials sent me this after I died attempting to fix up my trashy extension english creative. Whoever thought writing a creative about navigating the global was easy, is grossly mistaken. I can’t even decide on a good name for my protagonist, let alone write a creative worthy of the extension english calibre under timed conditions. Never ever decide to make names and their connotative meanings a motif in your story because you will have a bad time. I can’t determine whether the self absorbed ass who’s a smart engineer and has a good heart should be called Aryan or Gaurav. Damn this is hard.
Frands are the sweetest. He returned my mental sanity. 10 points to him.
Willing trials to hurry up so I can have fun in Melbourne. Step away from Sydney’s insanity and have a good time. Throw all my worries to the wind and then get back to bringing my A game for the HSC.