Oh Boogie
Hello!Welcome to www.whispering-bliss.blogspot.com!
s.95(3)(a) of the Women's Charter will not work.
My grades haven't been fairing too well. And they don't seem to be that good over the horizon. Slowly creeping up to me are the fears that will fasten themselves unto me. So palpable, so real, so surprisingly, expected. Procastination, laziness, and inability to yield at the situation has caught up to me so badly that I'm wanting to quit school and just start work.
Yet some things just keep me going forward. Perhaps it is not the one person that pushes me the most, but it is the thought that I want, and I must make it big at least. Who would want to live behind a dead-end desk job in some office down at Shenton Way, or Raffles Place? Heck, I don't want to be that loser. Neither do I wanna be some salesman with no way out in Sim Lim Square. Sure, I may love my gadgets, however, those can only get me so far.
s.95(3)(b) then.
My grades haven't been fairing too well. And they don't seem to be that good over the horizon. Slowly creeping up to me are the fears that will fasten themselves unto me. So palpable, so real, so surprisingly, expected. Procastination, laziness, and inability to yield at the situation has caught up to me so badly that I'm wanting to quit school and just start work.
Yet some things just keep me going forward. Perhaps it is not the one person that pushes me the most, but it is the thought that I want, and I must make it big at least. Who would want to live behind a dead-end desk job in some office down at Shenton Way, or Raffles Place? Heck, I don't want to be that loser. Neither do I wanna be some salesman with no way out in Sim Lim Square. Sure, I may love my gadgets, however, those can only get me so far.
I guess it's not so much of wanting to have a comfortable life in the future anymore. It's more of wanting that bit of recognition. It's going to be a lot of, "you need a lot of discipline, you need a lot time, you have to sacrifice a lot of things." I know all these. Few know that I lost sight of myself. It's this one slap across my figurative face that's waking me up. So few know that I lost sight of myself. Gone again, is the life of mine where I come home to turn on the laptop. Welcome again, the life where I sit down in front of my notes, papers, textbooks, that got me where I am. Here, I'm sure it'll bring me to where I want to be. So little faith, so little time, so huge a mountain to conquer. While only one apart from myself, knows that I have a bloody tsunami hounding my little ass down the fucking beach after this shit is over. Surviving one year of deprivation was okay. This one's going to be a tough one.
Sure as hell I don't wanna come out of this telling some of my closest friends : "I fucked up."