Princess for a day, slave forever to my mind's games

He went off to sleep. Again.
At a time when I most needed him, he chose sleep.
I'm tired today too. I want to escape into vacuum. I need to wash my hands off all these, coupled with lots of sterilising solution and Dettol antibacterial soap.
Someone please poke me with a giant pin.
Or better yet, shoot me. Not with your camera phone, you imbecile.
2 cm was all I missed. That's all.
Yeah right, just re-do it. And all will be fine
NO.
It's not it. I gave my best today. Apparently it wasn't enough.
2 O's. 2 C's. What's the big deal bout it?
I can't eat straight As anyway.
Freaking band 3 for PW. Alas! What should I say? Great job?
To think I slogged and worried about it. 1 year's a lot. so is 168 bucks.
Think I'll go for my other calling. Books don't like me anymore.
If I can't depend on my brain for a living, I'll resort to the flesh.
No, not a stewed prune.
I'm gonna try out for the bank ad. My Econs tutor will at least be proud of me. Hey, banks play an important role in the economy's money supply, and I'm going to promote them.
If I can't score in the theoretical part of Economics, I'll take the proactive approach.
Delude people that people who deposit their money with them emerge as happy as me.
Do they know about the reserve ratio thing? i.e. 90% of YOUR money is loaned out.only 10% is left within the banks' precious vaults


Still waiting to be shot.
Still waiting for him.
Still dead and numb.
Still, I do care.
Still, I don't want to be blamed.

Was princess for a day, tiara upon my throbbing head, gowns cascading to my toes, threatening to trip me over, blinding diamonds on my wrists, presents galore, a night of magic, a rose born of fire, dances, candles, cakes, wishes, tears, fame, a pin prick, a ring of blood, a Parisian corsette dress of black and midnight blue, then, nullity.
And now, a slave to my own confusion.
Tests, scores, assignments, liquidity preference theories, meandering channels, gentrification, probability, monetarists, Keynesian theories, horse latitudes, equinoxes, solstices, integration.
I'm tired of them all. I don't know why I do what I do. Just doing things for superficiality's sake, with no thought of tomorrow.
Go away. Before scars appear on my wrists again, before I press the rusty blade to my veins, before I relive the nightmare of a desperate 15-year-old, driven to exasperation. Go, before I return to that moment. Wake me up. Wake me before I go deeper into this wasted state.

And no, I'm not joking. Just no loud alarm clocks please.

then the failry tale moves on, and i drop from within the pages

Happy birthday to me tomorrow. I'll be 18, legal, and still not getting any freedom. Goodbye sweet 17, I won't miss you. The only thing i'll miss about you is the digit itself.

On another note, I have decided to be a potential bone marrow donor on the bone marrow donor program's database. Even a small pin prick scares me, and it's making me confused. It's not like I have an obligation to, but it's just that when you've lost 2 people to leukaemia, you want to help. Help to save those tears, the pain, and the regrets. My teacher and one of my closest friends lost the battle within a space of 3 years. So here I am, trying to prevent further loss. And because I haven't gotten rid of my guilt for taking them for granted.

I'm sorry. For all those times you were deluded I was your best student by sheer hard work, for all those times you said you were proud of me but I never took notice because I found it pointless to believe you. I'm sorry I was too afraid, and too conscious of what I would have to say if I visited you in hospital. Sorry that I cried too much at your wake, and I never attended your funeral because Mother and dad didn't allow me to. And sorry, because the tears I shed were more of regret and shame than of sadness and grief. Sorry, lao shi.

And sorry to Josh, I've never lived out your last wish for me. I wish I could, but it's just that when things get out of control I can't seem to snap back in reality, and I scream and shout at him almost everyday. Mother and dad are getting quite impossible nowadays too, and sometimes I can't help but wish they'd all go away and leave me be. I've taken all I've could, given and bled my guts out, and I'm tired. Sorry, sometimes you just can't pretend you've had an overdose of happy potion and that everything'll be alright. I can't do it. And you know it. You've seen how I've changed. From a bad-tempered swearing idiot to a more refined specimen. And now I'm back to square one. I just don't know anything. I don't want to know. And I guess I want to care, but really, all this is too much to bear. I just need him to be here for me, and not for him to hang up or walk away whenever I need him. Just 1 wish from you, that you'll make things the way you wanted them to be. And I guess I've never told you how great a buddy you are.

I've never belived in fairy godmothers and the magic they do. Yet I found my real-life fairy godmother. She couldn't be here yesterday, but all they could do was smile sympathetically, motioning that she was no more. I felt my anger burn, and my eyes were painful from the tears welling up. I wish she could save me from all of you. And I continue to wish so.

So, hello 18. Hello booze.