No Food Day

I don’t know what stressed me out first
Or how the pressure was fed
But I know just what it feels like
To have a voice in the back of my head

Papercut, Linkin Park

I didn’t know how incredibly tired I was until you accidently set me off, and I’m sorry I reacted that way; I was tired. And I didn’t even realize,

Until now.

I’m so tired, tired of being vigilant, and I’m tired of caring. I’m sick of walking with my back up and chin tilted along with the stupid poker face to complete the facade. And, I’m sick of telling, reminding, scolding, reprimanding – all of you to buck up your image and professionalism. I absolutely cringe with loathing at the line, ‘Aiyah, simply lah.’ I hate that kind of lackadaisical attitude you portray, it’s filthy. And it’s NOT COOL to not care. That is lame to the highest order. You here? Buck up you lazy asses. And please watch your image, especially outside class. Don’t ever give a prefect any reason to apprehend you. It’s humiliating. Have you no pride? Yes? No? If not, leave. We don’t need people like you. But I have hope in the few who work in the shadows, I respect you, and you are my hope. And also for the new batch. Good luck.

Regard this as the speech I wish to present on my farewell, but never will.

Sometimes I wonder, if all that work pretending has really gotten to me, maybe it has, so I’ll just try to live with it. Change doesn’t come easy for me, it fascinates me, but it also scares me to death. But once I yield in acceptance, the rest is easy.

* * *

I officially dub this day NO-FOOD/TORTURE DAY. The day where all the food in the canteen ran out, and finally came late. Torture because I was ravished. And believe me when I say, GIRLS CAN EAT.