So.
They’re here again.
And I have got to a point where I sometimes consider deliberately hurting myself somehow to escape them.
If the final examinations could breath, I would snuff the very life out of it by beating it to a shapeless pulp. Not only would I pummel it with every ounce of my being, but I would make sure that it will die a slow, painful, and torturous death. So mutilated, merciless and twisted will its death be that there will no chance of resurrection whatsoever. It would rather remain dead.
I don’t think anyone will ever know how much I hate the finals. Ever. Sure, it’s not like there are people who actually look forward to it, but I despise it to the deepest core. I hate how it affects and controls me completely, and how powerless I feel when forced to submit to this tiring, despicable system. It makes me lose sense of myself.
In the next few weeks, I will forget my surroundings and my very being. Days and nights will make no difference to me, save for prayer times. The days will only bring meaning should there be a paper to sit for.
It’s time to go back to the black abyss, where tempers flare and friends are shooed away. It’s time to go back to timing my sleep and eating sessions. Bathing will be thought of as wasting time. The room will look as though a cyclone’s gone through it. Papers will fly. The hours will never be enough. The bulk of notes will seem endless. I will suffocate and not care for anything else.
Final examinations should not carry a 60% weight. It’s not practical to judge a student’s qualification for an entire semester based on how he/she performs in 3.15 hours. I know it’s done nothing for me. I’ve been here for 3 years, and I still feel like the same person I was when I entered! Ask me to eloquently talk about an aspect of Law that interests me, and I will stare blankly back.
I hate this. And sadly, Law is beginning to really wear me out.
Enough said here.
