It’s still hard to believe I’m fifteen. That’s halfway to being a senior.
Although Taylor Swift says you’re still a freshman if you’re fifteen in America and UK.
The mere word says ‘Pee Emm Are’ all the way. People say it’s no big deal, but I can’t help thinking my deal is enormous. Even the peer pressure the school is asserting upon us makes it harder to breathe. Is it just coincidence, or is the Form Three block totally ostracised from the ‘out there’? We’re like a suspended, floating ship that has totally lost connection with the master port. A nest. To lecture and teach us without distractions from the outside world.
I hate responisibilities, that’s why I suck at them. Sometimes I’m grateful for the distractions so that I’d be able to concentrate, but I must admit I don’t think I’m wholly prepared for what is in store for me. Don’t think I’d be eager to find out either.
I know I’m contradicting one of my previous post, but depression loves me too much and can’t leave me when school starts.