Today was the beginning of exam season - you'd've thought I'd be a wreck and all, considering I only started revising for the exam yesterday. It was pretty pointless before. I was in some sort of depression I couldn't realise and therefore couldn't shake off. Talking to Ria, I realised it was a Shadow - something so slight I can never notice it, like a comfy cloak, but a self-hating, odious cloak that told I was stupid and ugly and fat and that there was no point in revising. It was strange; the moment I began to speak about it, it had left me immediately. My posture improved by over an inch - which, for a short lass is very uplifting - and the words could get to me. I had finally, after three minutes of hard talking, got back the Botherness.
I revised hard until my head began to hurt, and I knew there was little point revising anything anymore, so I took the opportunity of a cancelled lesson to hang with friends in what I will now call the Cookie Jar - cos you can buy gorgeous, melty cookies. By now, me, my friends and the college have gone mad. It's AS level year - you're thrown into a new building and you're assaulted with this wealth of information you have to get you mind round immediately. There's no time to eat or sleep only to study and socialise (is it with a 's' or 'z' for an english spelling?). By April it starts to set in that we've been eating out of vending machines sleeping an average of 5-7 hours per night. We get stupider. We can't spell the way we used to. And so, we revert to childish behaviour, even if we're acting like 14 year olds because gosh, things were much much easier back then.
So, when Ellie Tall gave us some bubblewrap, you can imagine the fight. It's very soothing! You pop all of those bubbles and you know it's the one thing you know you'll succeed in. Or its just soothing. We discussed collocations, Halliday's taxonomy and the difference between ellipses and ellisions - v. important, since it was our english lit/lang/lit-lang exams. After a bit, Richard came down. He looked very tired. By now I've realised the real life he leads. That he's a little mad, the manic man to my silent and woeful woman. And of course, he hadn't revised. He worse than me - more of a happy nihilist than anything else if you get my meaning, kinda like my motto (of sorts) : Why not? So of course, at the table with everyone else mainly normal, he was making Viking rituals by pouring drops of water on the front page of today metro and soaking up the paper, (god - okon? or something) asking for wisdom. Most of the normals were worried, but I just found it slightly annoying - fine, go crazy; I understand people getting crazier with the ratio of sheer nervouse and unadulterated fear but don't go anywhere near me at exam time. Thats because I'm Zen. Or just bollocking, for I literally don't care. I act as if I've got the A already and I'm just signing the deed. Needless to say the exam was surprising but wasn't bad at all.
I left quite happy. I felt Richard had calmed down even though we were in different buildings and hoped he got his head round the books he only bought a couple of days ago. I felt good because I'm pretty sure I'll get an A in English unless I break down in Desk Study, which isn't too overstated...but also, its the last Shakespeare essay I'll ever have to do. I love his work, I really do, but making me write about him is too dull for words.
With my spoils of success - flapjacks, I started to flip through the prospectuses - Sussex looks promising, but it has too much choice. LSE (London School of Economics) seems like no fun at all, and I only asked for UCL because loads of my college friends are going there and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I couldn't even open the first page. Just from karma alone, I don't think I can go down there. I watched Life Isn't All Ha Ha Hee Hee, which had self-harm, marriage counselling and domestic violence but no support numbers afterwards. It was weird watching the self harm. I wasn't surprised to see it - black and asian families don't speak when they're really down in the dumps and of course, it settles like sediment, solidifies into a rock - a rocky mountain that you can't climb. Self harm is inevitable. But it was quite disturbing watching a comedian and a such a strong woman like Meera Syal do it. (Ground Control to Major Tom playing...I used to hate this song, but I didn't get it before - it means loneliness and nothing at all) but hey, strong women self destruct all the time. I should know: I'm one of them.
At the end of this evening, I watched Dead Ringers, and had my mug shot taken for my passport photo. I was grimly assured I looked horrible in all of them, but I realised I couldn't keep the smile from my face. Dad was being annoying and I was trying to keep a straight face. But the inner smile inside me wouldn't leave. It was heartening, but it made my face seem melty and lop-sided. I think I'll end it there.