the new kaka. @ {10:22 PM}
Sniffy sniffy cry cry!
So absolutely sad today after receiving results. Math results. I failed. As per normal. It rained and the sky was dark, just like the last time I failed. Celeste put it in a rather cute manner, saying that the clouds were feeling sad for me. And I can imagine, rather jealously, any random 6D kid saying to their parents that hey, at least I'm not the one who failed my maths. I, however, do not have this pleasure of calling my mom, saying a stupid fail-worthy number and then saying "Multiplied by two!" The best I can settle for is saying twenty-three multiplied by two. As if that helps. I really wanted to wail out loud because this was the most effort I've put into an exam paper lately, and I've gotten the same old results. I guess the only thing I really want is to just pass my maths, for once. I cannot tell you how happy I would have been if Mdm Ang had announced no failures, even if I had fifty marks. Probably as happy as I would be if I saw Linkin Park live in concert again. I am content, though, with my Meteora tour edition, the most precious Linkin Park thing ever in my possession, other than the ticket stubs to the concert and the Minutes to Midnight album which I fondly remember blasting and annoying my tired family with in a Clarke Quay carpark. My Meteora offers all the comfort of slashing wrists and other emo things, but it's less harmful, and certainly sounds a lot better.
Jade, signing off, contemplating an emo lifestyle
(By the way, when I shared my inky ambitions of getting tattooed with Bendy, she oh-so-sensibly told me that I wasn't gangster enough for that. She has seriously mistaken me. I do not want to be tattooed for the purpose of being a gangster. I want those tattoos because they hold some significance to me. And if you can understand that, you are a genius. Who wants to fund my tattoos? If you give me too much dosh, I might be able to get a nose and lower-lip piercing too. Or a two-week meth addiction.)
