you know, Conrad sure is right. throughout his whole book it's just doom, doom, doom. sure as heck am i doomed for lit. never have i thought so badly of a lit paper after doing it.

especially the shakespeare paper. oh my God, MEL WHAT ARE YOU DOING? what am i doing!? whattt ammmmm iiiiii doinggggggggggggggggggggggggggg

it started off nicely enough, with a nice prac crit. was eternally grateful as expected some highly abstract poem like Landscape as Werewolf which has references to nature and seriously now i rather detest nature literature. wordsworth, ruskin - no thank you. anyway. poem we got was An Instance by Alistair Reid. it was good because i loved the ideas he had and i related to the poem. wrote with passion, which is ever so important. and if i was in a better mood i would gush about how words have the power to grant immortality but seeing as am now in state of distress you are spared my usual musings about the beauty of literature and words.

shakespeare paper. God. my reputation is ruined. dio is going to read it and think i have no brain and my english is extremely terribly bad/poor/bad/poor/bad.

my brain is just some mush sloshing around in my head. seriously don't know what am going to do for history paper. i am immune to the wrist torture [three hours of writing isn't that bad. really.] but my brain is not spared. oh, merciful heaven, help me to memorize something of meritable worth for my history exam tomorrow.

+ posted by M @ 5:37 PM