As much as I want to, I don't think I will ever be able to accept my shitty, less-than-stellar A level results.
With university applications currently eating up most of my free time, I have no choice but to stare at that whitish-pink certificate often, with its never-changing alphabets haunting me in the days that follow.
My mother's perennial chattering about how I will "never reach my full potential" isn't exactly a big bonus either, and it just withholds me from moving on.
Every time I see that fucking certificate I feel like my chest has been hollowed out.
Yes yes, you may call me 'overdramatic' and try to reassure me that "grades aren't everything" but guess what? In conservative, grades-driven, stressful Singapore, a combination of 6 letters do define your life! Now I find myself worrying if I can even make it to the course of my choice, with the grade point indicators burned into the walls of my memory.
I believe I wouldn't be so bitter about my results if I sucked at English. The other day, someone who received an A for GP informed me that she didn't know who Ernest Hemingway was, and prior to that day was wholly unaware of his existence. And just last week I helped another friend who also attained an A for GP edit her personal statement, which had several jarring grammatical errors. [Note: This is not to vilify my friend, but simply to illustrate a point.]
Now I truly understand what people mean when a grade might not truly reflect one's ability. Every time I look at my 'B's for GP and literature, I can almost hear the gods laughing at me - the poor mortal, a mere plaything in their hands.
Gather round boys and girls, and look at stupid Shu Hui! This is the idiot who receives crummy grades for English, despite her love for the Beats, her enjoyment of Sigmund Freud's psychoanalytical theories and her admiration of Descartes' genius!
I think the worst part of my whole predicament is convincing my future employers that my command of the English language supersedes the grade I got. Goodness gracious, I can already imagine the looks of condescension, the sneers and the disbelieving chime of "Is that so?".
I want to let go, but I'll never be able to.
Monday 17 March 2014
Monday 3 March 2014
la vie en rose
I suppose sadness, disappointment and frustration altogether when combined in a horrendous whirlpool of discontent is both drowning and overwhelming. My A level results are objectively fine but in my opinion far from perfect.
It pisses me off how subjects that I had performed consistently in and worked hard for let me down at such a critical moment. It pisses me off even more that English, which has been my strongest subject since I was in primary one, is the fatal fetter that drags me down into the Tartarus of regret and dismay. But hold it ladies and gentlemen, I haven't revealed the final punchline yet! I guess Life loves to mock me and toy with me, because it has bestowed upon me an 'A' for math, my weakest subject!
I can almost hear the cherubim laughing at my woes, how pleasant.
Right now, I can only think of these few situations that have probably led to my downfall: 1) I didn't get enough sleep for the GP essay paper and hence wrote rubbish, 2) I wrote too long for the GP essay and my examples were lacking for some points, 3) Some of my literature essays sucked so much that Oscar Wilde, Charles Dickens, Edith Wharton, William Shakespeare and Charlotte Brontë are turning in their graves right now or 4) I got a hard-ass marker who had a ruler stuck up his/her ass and just hated my writing!
Upon reflection, I do not believe my essays were that repulsive or abhorrent and I honestly feel that I tried my best. Granted, my essay for GP seemed a tad long but that was only because my handwriting was large. Maybe I just have to accept that Life dealt me with a bad hand of cards and that it's a lesson for me to learn from.
I suppose the only good thing about today is that Lupita Nyong'o beat Jennifer Lawrence for Best Supporting Actress, what the flying fuck.
It pisses me off how subjects that I had performed consistently in and worked hard for let me down at such a critical moment. It pisses me off even more that English, which has been my strongest subject since I was in primary one, is the fatal fetter that drags me down into the Tartarus of regret and dismay. But hold it ladies and gentlemen, I haven't revealed the final punchline yet! I guess Life loves to mock me and toy with me, because it has bestowed upon me an 'A' for math, my weakest subject!
I can almost hear the cherubim laughing at my woes, how pleasant.
Right now, I can only think of these few situations that have probably led to my downfall: 1) I didn't get enough sleep for the GP essay paper and hence wrote rubbish, 2) I wrote too long for the GP essay and my examples were lacking for some points, 3) Some of my literature essays sucked so much that Oscar Wilde, Charles Dickens, Edith Wharton, William Shakespeare and Charlotte Brontë are turning in their graves right now or 4) I got a hard-ass marker who had a ruler stuck up his/her ass and just hated my writing!
Upon reflection, I do not believe my essays were that repulsive or abhorrent and I honestly feel that I tried my best. Granted, my essay for GP seemed a tad long but that was only because my handwriting was large. Maybe I just have to accept that Life dealt me with a bad hand of cards and that it's a lesson for me to learn from.
I suppose the only good thing about today is that Lupita Nyong'o beat Jennifer Lawrence for Best Supporting Actress, what the flying fuck.
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