Blank Doll speaks.

Waking up early to a good HIC and then a slice of nutella on whole meal and a glass of soy milk is a wonderful experience. It makes you feel so awfully healthy and virtuous. To suckle from the tit of a blissful, haze-free dawn- of such things is bliss made.

My past is coming back all at the same time. Past friends, past love, past fears. Suddenly, my ambition and dream look so daunting and so far away. Yet I must brace myself for what is to come, I have been waiting so long for it that I can scarce wait longer. I am now in a comfort zone I must escape from, which means sooner or later, I'm going to end up quarreling with all my friends and then hurting someone else.

Reading keeps me sane when I am so enervated, stymied by the sudden rush of things. I am consoled that while I may not exactly have my face stuck to my notes, I am at least reading something of interest and of value that Cambridge will not recognize but will nevetheless be useful in the future. Currently reading a book on Singapore English which has made me very self-conscious of my pronunciation and use of a language I once thought myself such an adept at. Well, apparently, I'm not that good with the English language. True, I can write and I think I write quite nicely too. I can speak the language and need never pause to grasp for a word too. Nonetheless, it behooves me that I cannot as yet dredge up any semblance of an accent. I know it's uncool to want an accent but really, I have a shameful desire to learn Received Pronunciation or at least be able to affect a French lilt- none of which I can do. Writing, ah the bitterness, is something others in my school may do far better than I can. My prose has no poetry to it, and my poetry, no symmetry, no meter, no rhythm, no meaning to it.

My, what an act of humility. This is not to say however that I speak like the average Singaporean grasping for words they learnt from reading the Straits Times, molesting the language with their ineptitude although in recent weeks, I have acquired the tendency to speak like that.

By the way, fuck you.

C'est tout.