Untold Untruths
Mike Wozowski is gobsmacked for good reason.
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Wednesday, March 22
Moron
Not more than a few hours ago, I scorned (very mildly lah) Raskolnikov's obsessive self-contempt, worry and mangled, colliding thoughts... Yet now I am going through very much the same thing. Reuben asked me today before practice started whether I'd got the scholarship. I told him the results were only out next week. But then he went, "Oh, but Pei Shen (spellcheck required) - you know Pei Shen right? - already got it."
You read about how dread settles in the heroine's heart, or how the heroine's heart stops cold and her voice goes funny at hearing the worst news - but you never imagine how it would happen with yourself. And though the same thing happens, though the same words may apply more than perfectly, you can hardly bear to use such cliched emotions on yourself. I was crushed lah.
Throughout practice, I could only barely contain myself... All I wanted to do was to go home. I kept looking wildly to the window, hoping to see mum's car, only to come back to the people around me and to steel myself through more speechless reactions to my bitchy model-cohorts in Couture.
Felt so fucked. It was that whole loser feeling all over again... And a whole series of questions kept screaming inside of my head. How did she get it? Did they call her? Results should only be out next week! Maybe she has connections? Maybe they already contacted the scholarship-receipients. Maybe they'll only send the letters to the non-receipients next week. Maybe this, maybe that... God!
Everything about this feels so wrong. Wrong in the sense that... It should be mine. I think I did what I could to deserve it. Wrong also because... It could be that they thought I was a pretentious fool... I keep going over some parts of the interview now, and I can't help cringing every here and there, recalling what I said. How could I have said that! Why didn't I just keep it short and simple?! Now why did I have to bring that up? Why did I say this? Why did I say that!
Such horrible, horrible, mortification.
What makes it all worse is that people who do remember keep asking me about the scholarship now. STUPID Krystle, to make such a news out of it. STUPID Krystle, to tell people about things like this... And STUPID Krystle, to have been annoyed at people who cannot remember... Blah! What horrible agony... Thank God for storybooks and the like... And arms like Cow's.
You read about how dread settles in the heroine's heart, or how the heroine's heart stops cold and her voice goes funny at hearing the worst news - but you never imagine how it would happen with yourself. And though the same thing happens, though the same words may apply more than perfectly, you can hardly bear to use such cliched emotions on yourself. I was crushed lah.
Throughout practice, I could only barely contain myself... All I wanted to do was to go home. I kept looking wildly to the window, hoping to see mum's car, only to come back to the people around me and to steel myself through more speechless reactions to my bitchy model-cohorts in Couture.
Felt so fucked. It was that whole loser feeling all over again... And a whole series of questions kept screaming inside of my head. How did she get it? Did they call her? Results should only be out next week! Maybe she has connections? Maybe they already contacted the scholarship-receipients. Maybe they'll only send the letters to the non-receipients next week. Maybe this, maybe that... God!
Everything about this feels so wrong. Wrong in the sense that... It should be mine. I think I did what I could to deserve it. Wrong also because... It could be that they thought I was a pretentious fool... I keep going over some parts of the interview now, and I can't help cringing every here and there, recalling what I said. How could I have said that! Why didn't I just keep it short and simple?! Now why did I have to bring that up? Why did I say this? Why did I say that!
Such horrible, horrible, mortification.
What makes it all worse is that people who do remember keep asking me about the scholarship now. STUPID Krystle, to make such a news out of it. STUPID Krystle, to tell people about things like this... And STUPID Krystle, to have been annoyed at people who cannot remember... Blah! What horrible agony... Thank God for storybooks and the like... And arms like Cow's.