Half a battle fought but also

half this battle already lost,

though I actually feel more prepared for this set of exams compared to the ones in the middle of the year.

In between choosing a topic that I can write about rather than a topic I want to write about, and writing a question cut into parts rather than the one which I had the answers to because I know I can’t finish the paper, and finally succumbing and writing what I want to write again rather than something safe(r?).

Perhaps it’s a combination of forgetting and childish rebellion but I want to stop right here.

(we won’t burn out)

I think I’ve simultaneously combusted and decomposed.

There’s always too much of an element of ‘what I want to write’ in all my answers. I want to run away with the question – I don’t particularly want to write what they want to read, and I’ll pay for it.

I don’t want to pay for it so, maybe in that sense, I want to write what they want me to write.

I will give it a try another time, to throw away my ‘self’ and sell away my soul and spend my time memorising the answers they have given us.

It is a little bit ironic that this time I neither wrote what I wanted nor what they wanted, so maybe in this case neither parties are happy, but will it suffice and meet the basic needs of either party?

I do not know.

(look, Mindanao is not in Indonesia. it doesn’t make sense for the Moros to be upset that the national language is Bahasa; despite this thought running in your head, be aware of the time that is running away from you and the multiple flips you’ve made between the Philippines and Indonesia.)

Keep a little comfort in your soul that they might find it funny when they read your script

(keep a little fear that the effect is as always compounding and again, those eyes will look at you as they always do, a look that carves your inadequacies onto your back the same way the lack of () here has etched its mark on your soul.)

At the same time, come to grips with what ‘fear’ is and try your best to ignore it and quash it when it rises in your chest.

Beyond the fact that one teacher says, “Writing tons of essays now just mean more essays for you to look back upon next year and think ‘wow I was an idiot'” and I relate in the sense that I don’t have to wait a year to think so.

Again, am I projecting or am I reading them right? I am almost afraid to pass that judgement on my own.

All the same, I should go say thank you to the other one who made me less afraid, but, then, should I be more afraid then?

Imagining reading back on all these little packages of worries in the far future and hoping that I will not think too little of myself.

You and I are about the same, in the past and the present, but the way we react has changed over time due to the different experiences that shape our development and our course.

Where we both began was the same, in our past.

The past leaves an indelible mark (indelible in the hippocampus).

I’m going to study again.

As if studying will make me less afraid but the only thing that will make me less afraid and less [] is for someone to be ().

I would like to, (in an effort to ground myself emotionally), state categorically that I am not tracking or listing my use of ()s and []s and though they can be used over pages, they don’t always refer to the same thing, even within the same page, and sometimes, multiple substitutions can be made.

Emotions are not math, you see.

In the future when I read back on these, I am not sure if I want myself to remember what ()s and []s stand for. If I recall them, then, well, you will know that the past does, in fact, leave its () mark.

Lastly, Ford v. Kavanaugh makes my head hurt and my heart ache.

Keep going because

you have no choice.


The choice was never yours

or mine

or anyone’s.


Fate controls everyone’s puppet strings

everyone is following a preset course.

Your actions and choices have been

planned since the day you were born.


There is nothing that is ‘you’,

only what you will do from here on.


That said.

How do you know that?

You don’t.


So keep fighting.

Maybe that your fate, you know?


I’ll keep walking.

I’ll keep being ()

In that, I hope to reach it.



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