My fury in the afternoon was so clear that some classmates got anxious about me. You know, I had spent a great deal of time analysing both sonnet 18 and 29 written by Shakespeare for two days, even handwriting them down very carefully to hand in the freaking teacher, but he ended up by delaying them until next week.
That freaking teacher is the laziest and worth-being-cursed-by-me one who never gives a damn about his students' assignments. Even he hires some students to mark exam papers. What am I supposed to judge a teacher who comes to classes in order to sit at a corner playing cell phone games, then borrow someone's book to correct? Where the hell are you from, sir?
No sooner had I headed out of the classroom, I initially broke into tears after restraining myself from being ablaze with danger and tearing my analysing papers apart right in front of his face. None of classmates made nearly half of my efforts for the damn sonnet analysis essays for mine were almost 2000 words in total within 2 days. In the mean time, they just wrote around 300 - 400 words in total for both sonnet analysis essays. Well, they laughed at me as such the silliest idiot doing her utmost for nothing :)
What is perfectionism? What is the point of making the best of something? I've done my utmost for everything and for a million times, I've eventually got nothing. All in vain!
To make it worse, the rears of my bike basket were slipped off and my moisture spray was poured over my pack-bag, wetting from textbooks to every stuff =="
Should I cry for the second time in day? >.< Welll, "And look upon myself, and curse my fate"
~ Hal
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