#unproved theory321

we all make up our own sadness.

the ones who do it well get put up in print

or if you're not so lucky then the hospital

and if you make that work for you then i guess you could even become famous.

So lately we've been on the Titanic and have been convincing ourselves that "...our ankles aren't wet, just sweaty from dancing".

Well hello- Earth To Students In Denial! Yes, it's an iceberg; and yes, it's big; and yes, you've fucking hit it square on the nose.

...Oh, and there's one lifeboat left. On three go!

So yeah.

Enough of complacency, and enough of procrastination (I promise that this is just a break and in ten minutes I'll be back at the desk Statisticsking), and it's time I do my future some justice. No pressure or anything...

The past few days have been up and down and everything in between. Who needs Universal Studios when you've got the A Levels? Have you ever FELT THE ADRENALINE RUSH WHEN YOU LOOK AT AN ECONS PAPER AND HAVE A MAJOR WTF MOMENT there's nothing quite like it, I assure you.

Still, though, there have been blessings to be counted. There've been the marginally stellar moments. And even the quiet moments; like a little while earlier when I was tackling Math and listening to Imi Heap-- and the part where she goes:

"Not now but soon
The most beautiful light
Will wake us to pillow fighting excitement

Standing by the best days of our lives,
Magnificent, the best days of our lives,
Big bang boom, the best days of our lives
They’re coming right up
If we can just get through this one.

Who said it was over?
It’s as good as it gets
Well we’ve got a few tricks up our sleeves yet--"

... and I listened to that and just felt comforted. Eighteen and toiling and never more alive!! i will sing as long as there is still air to breathe.

School has been draining lately, with the odd bit of funny anecdotal stupidity tossed in here and there. Creme de la creme? Us? Really?

eg:

"This is the basis on which other such arguments are based." (Kenneth's GP paper)

"Foreign direct investment is investment obtained directly from foreign sources." (Epic Fail at definition of FDI)

"All the world is migrant." (When all else fails, we misquote Shakespeare)

"Wah lao, be or not be" (Mr D's 'Hamlet: Condensed')

"Yay! Bitch dies!" (Mr D's 'Tess of the d'Urbervilles: Condensed')

and aptly, too;

Mr D: "Pocahontas 2?? Who watches those sequels- they're crap! Like that High School Musical 1, High School Musical 2, High School Musical 3: Senior Year..."

Chris: "Next up- ...High School Musical 4: Retained."

Cara: "Starring... Us."

40 days to go and I'm gonna come out swingin' like a flapper from the '60s.

terrifying best days of our lives--

Me: "Let's go out the day A Levels end!"

Amrit: "By the time A Levels end I will have a FULL GROWN MOUSTACHE. I am not going ANYWHERE with you."

I am not a child.

What part of "no longer eight" do you not understand?

I love you but sometimes you make me sick to the core; ill to the bone

it's not organic carrot puree; you can't forcefeed me any more

with ideals you claim you ground straight from the Bible.

if that's God I don't believe in Him

but that isn't God and I know it. You don't.

what part of "daughter, not autopsy blueprint" do you not understand?

This isn't the Spanish Inquisition. We're Asian. And you are not the thought police!!! who gives you/ what gives you/ (i certainly didn't) the right to think you can pull open the flap (right, left, this one needs stitching) of my tired torso and reach raw inside what holyman chutzpah do you claim to smear what salve that will save my soul?

i'm going to stop angsting now like a thirteen year old with too much eyeliner and xanga -time. you guys make me compromise my street credibility. must be the influence of all the MAGAZINES I'M READING, RIGHT, LOVES? because of course it's reading Style one day, and sex drugs and rock n' roll the night after! of course. we all learnt parenting from the Cosby Show.

have a little faith in me. I'm tired of fighting.

When will you learn, and what will it take, and what have i not tried yet that will finally make you see?

re: I'm a rogue, not a thief

... no; I don't WANT your boyfriend. I have my own. You can keep yours.

x

It is 9.30am on a Saturday morning-

and I am sitting here in my nightgown thinking DAMN IT'S GOOD TO BE ALIVE.

The sun's all hot and heavy outside but somehow I don't mind, because I'm kind of cold in here and I think in a little while I'm going to go to my brother's outdoor shower and sit in the middle of the wooden planks just basking.

Facebook Newsfeed hasn't moved in about half an hour, which is a little bit scary. So I assume everyone's either asleep & recuperating from the past frankly quite hellish week/ starting Revision Round #...1209892309ojsadskalk in preparation for Impending Doom.

i love how i give myself a false perception of freedom~~

yesterday was nice: spent gymming and jacuzzing with Erik at the Club, and then always with the sugar fix, so we headed to the rooftop@harbourfront and I had a bigass cup of frozen yogurt and stole sips from Erik's cup of what-I-hope-was-diet-coke (he refused to tell me. damn enigmaticness...if that's even a word. if not-- PATENT)

then, having no frantic lastminute revision to do for any paper the next day- I went back home and made dinner for myself with the salmon in the fridge and toasted honey almond cereal and milk (i am so self-sufficient) and then spent a happy half hour just belly down on bed and texting random people and all the while enjoying the luxury of TIME.

and then I watched Troy for, like, only the thirty-second time. Dad came back and watched it with me... he was evidently cringing at all the gory Director's Cut bits; and whenever Achilles stripped off his armour; you could see Dad's hand edging for the control...

until I got tense and took away the control and assured him "it's okay, I've seen all the Weird Bits before- and besides- the Weird Bits don't come just yet. Relax."

my parents are very conservative.

I agree that sex should be kept for marriage; but i hardly think handholding is going to get anyone pregnant. And that one time i lay on J's lap to watch television- ohhhhh, Hades.

so dear boyfriend; ...hence the circumstances. be extra lovely and i might tweak the rules a little bit and maybe even LINK PINKIES ON THE TENTH DATE

;)

But digressing from parents.... back to myself.

It's about time to get changed and head out to meet Di for our weekly Saturday gym-sushi-study session combo. Excited to gym, and I stepped on the scale today and it went down, which is always a nice surprise- esp seeing as how I was noshing on froyo and my sister's too-good-to-be-healthy seaweed thing yesterday--- feeling kind of worn out from General Examness; but I think once I blast some Beyonce and Britney (yes, guilty workout pleasures. don't hate.) I should feel aaaaaa-okay.

I finished editing my Lit H3 commentary before 9. That's my dose of Over Achieving done for the day.

Now on to meet luna sorella, moonsister, spend time at the gym, and then laze the afternoon away reading Tess of the d'Urbervilles for monday's paper 5.

here we go.

one day soon these days will end.

but for now you are the little monster guilty in the closet

who looks up with hands sticky from the glitter you swallow to colour your throat

to colour your stories.

for now over long telephone calls

you make big plans about things that happened four years ago

and talk excitedly about meeting names you should never have rewound.

for now every day at three o' clock you enter the two-way glass

and spend an hour rocking in front of a little man with hungry eyes

who screams words like "yes!" "electricity!" "mum!" ...no regrets..........

at home you rearrange magnetic poetry to replace "little", "hungry", "screams"

and watch how the story changes.

for now you sit up

silent

in a white nightgown

between sister and sancta maria

silent.

god giggles.

across every third storey pale children do the same.

we wait for the "to be" wonder why it never came.

... Okay, so I'm allowed ONE Blogpost Of Panic.

And on 3, 2....

ADSOIUDSAPOIJDKJ9-EI2OJFA;LK.

What the hell are you doing, Cara?! This is your Future and you're killing it one wrong Vectors answer at a time.

Once upon a time it was Cambridge, it was Oxford, it was a shiny happy success story in a shiny happy car. Now it's just a "... yes God, it'd be nice if I could get into a university, please. A university. ANY university."

The constant state of denial isn't helping, either. "Prelims? What prelims? ... In two days? Oh, THOSE prelims!"

And because of the whole denial shindig, everything I study just kind of hits this wall and stays there. BEHIND the wall. I'm standing on the other side of it, FML VVM.

Also- when FB Newsfeed stagnates for more than ten minutes at a time, you know shyte's going down.

... it's taking me with it.

THIS IS A FUGGLEFEST AND EVERYONE'S INVITED

):

I'm exhausted.

Everything, everything, everything. Everything pulls and I am being tugged in so many different directions- all I want is to be a dreamcatcher. Now how's THAT for a life ambition?

The last time I was hit by this kind of exhaustion was sometime last year and then I sat at the computer, eyes half-closed, miasma of intoxicated deprivation, fingers navigating themselves over the keys

and ended up rolling out some beautiful crap about oceanbeds and ship eyes and sirens dragging sailors deeper, deeper, deeper... the white pearly depths. shh.

Today was beautiful, though, in so many ways.

And because there are so many ways (the tiniest things: footsteps across the meandering mind) I'm not going to ramble on the long-winded way I usually do and brand it "the way Kerouac did it".

I'm going to make a List. A List of all the Beautiful Things I have stumbled upon lately.

And then I will finish Math, and then I will collapse into bed and not wake till late morning.

So here we go.

---

List Of Beautiful Things, V 2.0

1. Toni Nicole Jackson's new bangs.

2. Sirius, Medea and Medusa, Di-and-Cara Sister Connexion. (connexion spelt with an x and not a ct; for the same reason magick is spelt magick and not magic, which doesn't look magickal at all...)

3. SUCCESS AT MAKING DARK CHOCOLATE MOUSSE. So granted you can't go wrong- ever- with any permutation of the full cream-dark chocolate-liquer combination; but still. Lisa and Shak tasted it and they did not die. Or they are dying, being A Level Students, but for reasons other than my mousse. I am such a domestic goddess.

4. warm scents

5. Walks in the evenings with my sister and meeting Salem the black kitten: fearless eyes

6. marginally Helen-esque. Love the duel; Love, the duel. "... You broke up a relationship without even ever stepping into it."

7. curling up on the pillowy daybed on the porch outside, in the mornings- cup of hot coffee in hand and listening to the water feature warble down the stone wall

8. standing in my brother's outdoor shower feature in the middle of a rainstorm

9. lips

10. falling asleep in a tent by the seaside; good music, growing trust, laughter like water. the sounds of planes and waves and the rustle of clothes and soft breathing. textures: flannel shirt under your palms, sand gritty between toes, soft crinkle of tentage against a bare back. hush.

So today was very good, in its own little way.

... Eeeven for a Thursday.

... Eeeven for a first-day-of-prelims kind of day.

After GP; Lisa, Shak and I went out for icecream, and then decided to go to my house to study since the thought of facing the preparation for tomorrow alone was more than a little intimidating and also frightfully boring-sounding.

So we cosied ourselves up in my room, with me in harem pants and Lisa in shorts that looked like diapers... had a prolonged argument over what kind of music to play (Andre Bocelli is NOT chamber music, Shak!) and then finally settled on Disney.

Yes, the Fallen Romantic's Choice.

... bad choice, though; because I think we ended up singing along more than we studied. And let me tell you- it is veeerry hard not to break out into lusty song during the chorus of Be A Man.

(Cue Lisa: "...'tranquil as a forest'? Just how tranquil are forests, anyway?")

Why is it I can remember every word to Under The Sea, but cannot for the life of me remember what liquidity preference is? ... I wish they had taught us our A Level syllabus back in kindergarten, Life would be so much less complicated now.

So we spent about a productive two, three hours or so all warm on the grey shag carpet, alternating comfortably between talking about fiscal policy and the effect of interest rates on the BOP and debating why Pocahontas and Mulan never appear on Disney Princess merchandise and how Simba looks like a really hot NS Man. We are so going to ace this thing.

Following which Lisa and Shak demanded a tour de la force of the house, which I the accommodating hostess gave; and then they followed me upstairs to the study and expressed varying degrees of abject horror upon seeing my email inbox + my 5937 unread emails.

I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THESE PEOPLE. If an email isn't important, I just don't read it! And I don't delete it either, because, y'know, you never know; one day you might need to reference christianelfcommunity newsletter #521 or Harrison Thomas' "Dear Cara, Symptoms Of Bipolar Disorder" or WebMD's "75% off flights to Afghanistan!"

... I swear- with my email inbox; I am stocked for the apocalypse.

Although now thanks to their superior "Select: All >> Delete" skills through the painstaking 5937 emails, if 2012 turns out to be 2010 and comes tomorrow (before econs exam plz) I will be thoroughly unprepared. It is a very odd feeling, having 0 unread messages.

Thank you, though, Lisa and Shak; you will reap your just rewards in Organizational Heaven. You will be seated at God's left and right hand helping him file through names on the Book of Life. Please make sure you slip mine somewhere in there... I know you're good people.

Also- Shak is so out of the scene right now.

Me, putting on "One Less Lonely Girl", by the J.Biebs: ...is it just me or does anyone think this song makes him sound vaguely homicidal?

J Biebs, on the speakers: There's gonna be one less lonely gi-irl... (I'm coming for you)... one less lonely gi-irl... (I'm coming for you)...

Lisa: ... JACK THE RIPPER'S THEME SONG!!

Shak: I don't like this Justin Baby guy. He's like the Joseph McCartney of our generation.

Lisa: Justin Baby?

Cara: Joseph McCartney?

Okay so now I'm going to listen to Disney's Frollo's rendition of Hellfire, and then finish Fiscal Policy and go to sleep.

I know this doesn't sound very cool but it's okay it's not a Friday night I'm allowed.

... tomorrow night I might even watch HERCULES.