already

halfway past prelims already and never has anything that looked so hard been so easy. of course results arent far down the road and when it comes to that hard/easy doesnt even come within a mile of did-you-pray-the-night-before. of course i did, but i never know, because when i pray my mind is all scrambled up with john donne - "sweare by thy selfe...thy sunne shall shine as it shines now" - and womanwarrior - "all scrambled up" - and god knows what he does with prayers that come from silly worried people too preoccupied with their lives.

i would break down at your feet/ and beg forgiveness,/ plead with you./ but i know that it's too late/ and now there's nothing I can do.

maybe literature shouldnt use texts that are so reminiscent of life, because what happens to student who cant tell book-life from his-life? and then the images from the texts will extend into his life and all the jumble from his life will reach down and mangle his hard-memorised quotes.

so i try to laugh about it,/ cover it all up with lies./ i try to laugh about it,/ hiding the tears in my eyes,/ because boys don't cry, boys don't cry

life after prelims already looks so promising. daily runs at canal route, which i probably will never run at again once i leave school and school leaves the building. where then, will old friends gather to run, and relive the sharing of dreams and secret pointers, far enough from comfort-ground yet close enough? a presentation for fairuz's firm, the first step to moving away from things i know now, promising and momentous. already i am running out of "promising" and stocking up on "we used to". complacent for a seventeen-year-old, but at the edge of teen age, every year closer to adulthood - 18, 21 - is a momentous step towards death, because once you stop growing, you start aging, dying.

The Cure - Boys Don't Cry