Disclaimer: Please don't read this if you're Mdm Lee/my mother/anyone older than me. Please.

I have never been a particularly outstanding student. In P1 I got first in class.

That was about it. Then in P3, I got into the GEP. For once in my life, I felt special, I felt smart, I felt like I could do anything and everything and I wanted to do all these at one shot.

Then this excitement slowly fizzled out once I entered Nanyang Primary. You see, I've never put any effort in anything in my life. I didn't need to, the results just came naturally. But in Nanyang Primary, without any effort, my results just - plummeted.

A greater person would pick herself off the ground, grit her teeth and run on. I was never a great person.

When I entered my secondary school, I was already used to being the one-who-isn't-that-good-in-any-subject-okayyyyy-maybe-english-but-that's-about-it. I never expected that to change, although I fervently wished to do myself proud one day. But I knew, there are some wishes that can never materialize. This was one of those. The reason for that was my own fault, I saw no motivation to change my habit. They say it's hard to break a bad habit. That's true.

In secondary school, I faced more than my struggles with my lack of determination. In secondary school, I was no longer one of the Big Kids. I was a Small Kid now, and around me I saw many people who were much older, much wiser, who probably stayed up all night without sleeping a wink. And I felt so much in awe of them, for surviving four years of perpetual stress. It probably seems stupid, but that was my genuine thought then. Despite my awe of them, I didn't want to be them. But gradually I discovered I was stuck with this ._.

Anyways.

In secondary school, I had 113/213. My class was something really special to me. They were the first people I held on to when I fell down, the people I grew most comfortable with first. I tried to be open with some of my friends, but I gradually realised that that wasn't possible, because, despite all that I thought of 213, 213 was never going to be a part of me, something I could criticize without tact. If there is one thing I think I'm good at, it's thinking.

Oh, you will say, Fiona, you? You do not appreciate literature, you own a fuchsia jacket and you care about your appearances. How can someone like you ever Think? Truly, deeply?

Maybe I cannot. Maybe my view of the world is so shallow it barely scratches the depth that you've reached. But I think about my relationships with others, my own faults and strengths, and I feel that that is more applicable to my self-actualization. Yes. I want to be smart, I want to get good grades, I want to get a good job and I want a new camera.

Cleverness used to be a huge deal for me, and I think it was because of my status as a GEPer. Once I've ascertained that I've gotten something, I don't want to lose it. That's right. It's really crude: I don't want to be stupid. But that is because when I'm stupid, I lose cleverness. (well in a warped sense)

I want good grades. Who doesn't? What matters is the effort you put in for it. Grades aren't everything. That's correct. But they are something people judge you by when they know you enough. (This part's a little confusing) Do I care? Honestly deep down inside, I really care. I don't really want to play second fiddle and I really want to get out of my shell. But can I? Do I WANT IT ENOUGH? I'm not sure.

I am a judgmental person. I don't deny that. I base people on their looks. But once I've gotten to know them, I find it easier to let go of my prejudices and think of them as a person. If you are close to me, I've probably analysed your character. If you are not close to me, I've also probably tried to analyse you as a person, to guess who you are.

I do not like mess. I do not like clutter. I would like to sit in a bed all day with a bottle of Snapple and a book. Not necessarily a chicklit. Now here comes the relevation you all have been waiting for: The books I read do not consist of only chicklits and Harry Potter. WOWWWWWWWWWW startling, isn't it? It is, frankly, none of your business what I read.

I dream of many things. I want to explore the human psyche. I want to be less affected by people's opinions of me. I want to work hard.

I am a very self-conscious person.

I am also lazy.

But in the end, will it matter? An awesome job, loads of money. When you're old and nearing your end, sit back and think about all that you've achieved. Did you chase after it just for the chase? Because everyone else was doing it? Because you are a materialistic git?

My very confusing and probably "wtf-I-don't-get-this-Fiona-you-are-damn-act-cheem" passage ends here. After this really long reflection-kind-of thing, my conclusion is: Priorities. Why not, you think about it. What do you really want in life? I know some people chase after jobs, they are practical as hell. Some people like me, like to act-cheem and think. But am I really acting-cheem? But posing such a philosophical question like "am I acting-cheem" am I acting-cheem or really am I thinking? I AM SO CONFUSED BY MY HEAD RIGHT NOW. I often find myself in ThinkParadoxes. I think I started thinking all this since I read Sophie's World with relish oh god ._.

Because you start to judge me and my act-profound thoughts, please don't. I really don't know why I keep a blog; I'm so self-conscious. Anyway. Before you judge me, remember I'm younger and not as wise as you (and also didn't I tell you not to read this?).



edit on 30 oct 2011: oh my god.