You know it's shit when:

You thought you were really good at maths after that 100% calculus test, but really, you can barely grasp the new concept, even with your lucky pencil (which has now been returned to its rightful owner and its reason for luckiness is pathetic anyway). You get none of the questions right in that maths competition and you realise the reason that you aced the calculus test is because you've been spoon-fed nearly identical problems, so really your mind is Not That Sharp.

So you think, oh, OK, at least I'm good with Words, I mean, look at that SAT verbal score! But actually, you dread doing that black-cloud of English homework because you don't Like words. Especially when it deals with using the brain to Analyse, as opposed to Recall information, like in the SAT test.

And anyway, if you really were that good with Words, you wouldn't have been so tactless when he was obviously Not Happy. You shouldn't have said anything, but you are too scared to even touch him with anything more than a fingertip. And when you retrace, you know that the cause of that Not Happiness is partly tua culpa.

You think that you're not going that deep, that you're staying safely afloat when it's really sinking both of you. And that Get Your Hands Off My Woman, Motherfucker jealousy isn't helping.

And drawing rabbits with your new-but-now-gone Lucky Pencil instead of accepting spoonfuls of calculus is not going to help. They look like kangaroos, anyway.

I don't really hate myself, but it's fun referring to yourself in second person, complete with accusatory physical finger-pointing.

<< You know it's shit. >>

th since 5th october 2001