Going into that cursed place that must not be named on 9th january school 2 the one nearest to the ferry terminal. Hope i get into some white horse company and slack my way through, or maybe downgrade pes, unless really get a really damn good company and pia on the 2 years. Oh well. I can imagine myself sweating in the damn thermal insulating thick green sleets of grasslike looking fireproof and waterproof-from-the-inside uniforms that probably bear 1/4 of my weight and go for the compulsory field camp that you cannot bathe for 1 week only powder bath and god-knows-how-smelly-and-dirty I'll get that even houseflies don't want to get near me cos i smell worse than shit and pray that i get into a good company of elitists probably since discrimination is rampantly adhered to in the cursed sanctuary or else i'll suffer worse torments inside the unholy chambers of the missing-doored toilets and who-knows-what kaleidoscopic personalities they come from. Ah!.
Sometimes i really wonder will life be the same after A lvls like all the momentum of playing has been lost and in lieu for mental preparation for the enlistment and stuff only that short 1 month to prepare and everything to enjoy before 2 years of life just gets wasted in the
No comments:
Post a Comment