It's Over

Okay. Mocks are finally over. I can finally breathe. Constriction of bronchioles/mind/willpower may be relaxed (slightly). Since the Australian Open is starting next week, much of my time will be devoted to cheering on Nadal. Something must be stated here however of the horrendous desecration that Nike has committed against Nadal's arms by deeming to cover them with this horrendously coloured shirt that is by no means even remotely attractive.



When I found out, I was mortified. I hope they don't make him wear this for the whole year. Anyway why he is so stupid to even agree wearing it? Honestly. The colours are horrible together. It's blasphemy.

Anyway on another less materialistic note: I can start going to the gym again (I think). Well for a while at least. Since pre-exam stress was keeping me from doing anything but burying my bloody nose in a book during toilet time, eating time, sleeping time, and bathing time. So yes.

And I will see whether my marks are fit to be posted before I mention anything (keeping fingers crossed).

My neck is itchy and it is extremely hot. I hate this sort of weather. The wind just blows in your damn face and I literally can't move when I run because I'm going against the wind. And stupid boys on motorbikes follow me and it's annoying. And I feel disgustingly unfit. Have only been doing 6 km runs which is quite pathetic. P.A.T.H.E.T.I.C.

Have also had no time to write poems no prose. Except for the one I wrote on the back of the Bio exam paper just now. I hope Mrs. Walton doesn't get too worried as it went something like this:

a hole in his side
patch of crimson against
marbled skin,
limbs twisted like
a tangled spider;
pathetic like
a gunned-down-dog

something something

That's not the exact version, I'll post it up when I get my paper back. (Fingers double crossed).

Okay, azan has just sounded for Asar and in any case I want to get back to 1984. (Thanks N)

Cheerio till tonight.