First day of school.
Let me have a normal post title for a day. I'm sure that if I were to search for other students' blog entries, there would be a lot of 'First day of school'. Or maybe with the prefix, fuck. Or the suffix, sucked. Or sucks, for that matter.
But it was alright, except for the fact that I woke up a tad too early. Ok that's an understatement but never mind.
I reached school in a very high state. High as in happy. Because I haven't stepped into school donning the full school uniform. And school shoes. I haven't been so properly attired for a long time. I somehow missed school, I realized. That spoke volumes, because I hardly miss things this much.
So I literally hopped into my classroom. One name was struck off.
Expected. But never mind. Moving on.
Damn high. Everything seemed exceptionally funny. I don't know why, but even the people who failed hair checks with their mobs of coloured hair seems funny. I guess I'm a bit sadistic, but seeing such people getting the hair blown out of their heads would certainly give me a boner. Now I'm not a sadomasochist, but I just don't like people who need hair to look good. 'Oh I AM SO FUCKING HANDSOME! Look at my fucking awesome hair, it stands, it can do anything! I use it as a dildo! You wish for its services??' You know what? No one gives a damn about how thick and how gelled your hair is. No one gives a fuck about how beautiful and much nicer-looking your face is when you have hair covering at least 60% of your face.
Damn. I'm vulgar. But the sickening sanctimonious smile they always give themselves whenever they look at me is enough to kill my boner for days. That's just how disgusting they can be.
And when I say something is disgusting, that something would really have to be it. I have no qualms over passing a piece of my own shit as 'cute'. Or 'kawaii'. I don't know how to spell, and you don't have to correct me, thanks. So it must be something really gross that would have a chance to disgust me. And raw puke doesn't disgust me. I have no problems staring at the once-a-cow minced meat half-digested shit. I think that's called 'chyme'.
Yea, no underlined zigzags. I'm right. Once more proving my doctrine, that I'm disgracing the world by being too intelligent, true.
I should sleep early. And hope that I'd have uninterrupted sleep. I don't like my internal conflicts raging while having wet dreams, it'd kill my balls.
And the mere thought that I'm already a Sec 4 student is giving me the creeps. I'm getting old, I'm dying in 10months time, there's no way out, blah blah.
And we get weird teachers whom we've never met before. I think this is damn weird. Would have a hard time getting used to these teachers. At least we won't be getting any relief teachers of trainee teachers. That mere thought gave me a boner, until some other teacher came in and squashed it instantaneously. I never knew that such humans could exist, and whether I should carry on calling them homo-sapiens or not.
Why do we keep getting erratic teachers anyway? I don't mean that they can't teach, I have implicit faith in their teachings. I know they can do their stuff. But why send us teachers that would go for long courses in the middle of the year? I know class 4-7 is made up of geniuses, but you can't do such stuff to us, clever people are always slack. Yea. I don't know how to kickstart this year. I've stagnated and am dying due to the outbreak of Dengue. I am a walking hotbed for mozzies. I even got moss settling down on me. Can you imagine me, walking around with mozzies buzzing around me, and moss on my beard like a moss giant?
Yes? Your imagination is damn fertile. I suggest you grow some grass and a cow in your thick vacuous skull. At least it may turn out more filled than it is currently.
For the slow, you really are slow, because I can't be a walking hotbed if I've stagnated. And if I'm a walking hotbed, moss can't settle on me.
No? You are alright.
Wait. Can moss grow on moving stuff? Forget it I can't be bothered. You got the point and that's more than enough.
Which reminds me. I have an uncanny ability to mask my mood. I love myself. You won't see that I'm moody, unless you infer from my namesake.
But besides my namesake, how else would you know that I'm moody? You don't, because your eyes have only cocks, and you can't see nuts.
I'm glad the world is such, because I can feel like anything, anytime.
I am so happy I have such an ability, I feel like screwing myself once more with the hair I secretly cut off from the sleeping guy's head.
Hey, it's a free hair cut. He can't complain.
-- 1/02/2008 09:38:00 PM
