Tension sial, living in a place with all the craps you have to cope with. I really have to find something to make my life meaningful and happy in that place called IPBA. I love my studies. I want to continue loving it, but somehow, there are something that distract me from continuing what i love to do. I hate to be the one pointed as a bad example, even though i might look like i don’t really care. But its certainly a shame that people actually look at you from the appearance, not judging you for what you really are. And before knowing and noticing someone dengan lebih mendalam, you don’t go accusing that someone when you don’t even know who she really is. Guess what, i am that someone being accused. It definitely hurts, ok? Like Kip said “this sucks balls u know?”. (Thanks Kip)

Getting stuck in this so called kebabian-situation, i really think that i need some time to ignore all this kebabian and just move on with my life. Why? Well what is the use of mourning over all this problems we had, when some people don’t even want to care about your feelings? Wounds on your body; the pain goes away slowly but the scars remain. Wounds in your heart; the pains remain but there is no scar. So now, i am “si blessée, si stressée”. I didn’t choose to feel sad, but things that happened everyday are the source of my sorrow. ~~“Don’t be satisfied with high marks”, “Work in groups! Share your knowledge! Don’t bodoh sombong!!”~~ These are the phrases that keep haunting me everyday. Ada lagi : (when she asked the class a question, nobody would answer, and suddenly a weirdo answered it) ~~That is why your marks are low, you let other people voice out”~~ Heellllllooooooo????????? My marks are better than weirdo’s lah. Whats the use of studying to get high marks laaaaa kalau orang just know how to condemn you! Arghhhhhhhh…

Yesterday morning ’she’ gave us back our essay papers, (essay on corruptions in France) and ’she’ said ’she’ was not satisfied because we did not do proper research on that essay. ‘She’ demanded for some reports or citations from any organisation. Guess what, in my paper, i did write some citations and reports from SOFRES (Société française d’études par sondages) but ’she’ said “None of you have write what i wanted,” … So bayangkan how terasa i was yesterday. Why? Did ’she’ read my essay or not? Am i invisible to her?

And that weirdo also nak kena, keep doing weird things. I didn’t call him weirdo for nothing ok. Imagine someone sitting beside you, keep looking at you when you are doing things, and keep kissing the table, put on heavy perfume, blablabla. Tak nak la kutuk dia lebih lebih pula, i just ‘beh tahan’ with him, want him to ‘chau nia’. Chau from my table also good already.

These are the only problem that i wish i can solve because one of it really kacau me. The only solution is just go straight at ‘her’ face and say whatever so ’she’ won’t talk all that again, but ’she’s’ my teacher. I have to respect ‘her’. Gr. Now i regret for being a spoilt child when i was 17 and below. Hardly listen to mom. Study stupidly.

Chey chey and Ryan had been very sad lately because of Baby in Chey’s stomach. Ryan’s blog. I also cried when i read Ryan’s blog. I’m so sorry for what happened to Chey, Ah San Ko, Ryan n Baby. But, we can do nothing. Its all God’s will.

Haihz. I shall endure and endure until the day i leave Malaysia for France (i don’t want to leave my family!) And i hope ’she’ will stop all that and give me some free spaces before i do anything stupid.