Pre-exam observations.

Its just another brick in the wall.- Pink Floyd.

Two months down, one left to go.
I’ve been cooped up at home because of a series of exams the Indian higher secondary education system deems extremely necessary but nobody else in the world gives a single fuck about.

I have forgotten what it feels like to smile at a person my age, to go out and have fun and blow my parents money( just kidding, I don’t even know how that feels.)
The only men ever checking me out are the ones who look at me like food on the road en-route exam centres.

Exercise feels like the German word for goodbye and I have eaten a bottle of nutella without sharing a spoon.

Chores are my new favorite thing, if that means I don’t have to feel guilty about not studying.
I am pretty sure I am qualified for a degree in procrastination.
Also, the last time I looked in the mirror, I got scared because of how utterly unremarkable my face looks to me. Mainly because it’s the only face I ever see anymore, given I’m alone in the house all day playing jumanji with my reflection.

I haven’t spoken in so long, the words are coming out rusty, like a clogged drain pipe.
The last movie I watched was probably in December.

My friend says I must look like a tumblr nerd girl. Sure, because tumblr nerd girls have disheveled hair, big glasses and wear oversized t-shirts. But, I also have bags under my eyes, a perpetual look of utter dissatisfaction, and am eating like a pig.

I am afraid that when I come out of the hell hole, I will have turned into a self-absorbed uncivilised caveman with no regard for society’s sense of propriety.
My pizza delivery boy was super cute. Which is as rare as the goddamn tooth fairy where I come from.
I legitimately stared at him when he was fishing out change, because I am now a barbarian and I am only surrounded by grumpy workers who are repairing the house and fugly neighbours.

I’m also mildly panicking because nothing is unremarkable about my writing anymore. Its getting distinctly snappy and even I would read it in an annoying high-pitched girl-voice.

Which brings me to another sore spot in my sore-ass life.
I want to watch deadpool.
So what if I’m single and my friends are normal people who’d much rather study a week before their exams instead of watching an anti-hero cracking innuendoes?
I was willing to go alone, and have a masterdate with deadpool. But, nope.
Bloody Indian censor-board snipped out everything and muted foul language.
You rated it A, asshole.
Atleast let me reap the only possible benefit of being 18.

A bunch of over righteous pricks with premium subscriptions for pornhub, deciding what I am permitted to see and what I am not.
So democracy, much wow.

My life has erectile dysfunction.
And no, unicorn horns or Virgin blood won’t cure it.

And if you think this is self-absorbed and makes no significant contribution to the community,
You’re absolutely correct and I congratulate you on your observation.

Powered by WordPress, only second to pornography, eating, music, more pornography etc. in alleviating stress.

My mind:  Now shoo, you miserable smidgen of dust, go fucking study.


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