12:08 am

The midnight introspection of Jennifer's overall existence.

Well, technically still alive. Just a lot lesser than the previous 21 years of my being. Conceivably, my thick unkempt hair had grown significantly longer so much so that it pulls and drains my skull from head to toe. The back of my neck grew a funny odd-shaped ball which I later suspect it to be a lymph node, probably from a forthcoming sinus infection. And that is the thing, especially during a time like this outbreak of a virus where a slight cough or the sound of sniffing and blowing could send everyone into straight paranoia.

I did it subconsciously once to a man and he must have thought that I was being such a dick towards him when in reality, I just looked at him when he coughed intensely at a shampoo bottle. My deduction was that either he could be slightly alarmed by the price of a high-end shampoo bottle, or that he had choked on his saliva when grasping at the price of the high-end shampoo bottle.

Anyhoo. 

This is perhaps intensely scary but the truth. No matter how sick you are or how unbearable whatever the physical pain is. You can't show any symptoms or signs. Or worst, temperature taking commences in TP nowadays, walking towards the auditorium and back to the east side of the school building is cardio that I would never wish to do. Now imagine getting a fever and being sent back home when this coming week is your report submission. So how? Do you just fuck it, run past the security guard and scream "I am sick do not come near me!" in order to clear passageway, get to class on time and hand in the report like an A student and later quarantined for unspecified reasons. Or submit another day like an A student. Either way, I ought to obtain that A. I was born ready to receive an A on a report that I've spent almost 80% of my brainpower on.

That idea sounded anal, stress has once again got the very best of me and I am, probably hyped by whatever prescription drug-induced medicine taken awhile ago. Sometimes I just wish I could give up and stop endeavoring for perfection. In fact, the perfection that I strived for never worked out well. Because at the end of the day: whatever the results, comes retaliation, ambiguity and a new lot of vengeance for the world. Summary of Jennifer's aloofness, in layman's' term.

Funny how I am punching furiously onto the keyboard instead of completing my work. Ah, reports are never fun, any perfectionist who claims to seek enjoyment from perfecting reports are nothing but a perverted fool. And much to your dismay, I am the perverted fool.  My unrelenting force and numerous attempts to remain mentally sound have unfortunately given in. Despite hiding in this cocoon, I am still extremely tired. And this level of jadedness has never been so severe to the point where I still have no idea why am I typing underneath the bed. Hahaha, secluded.

And the clock officially hits 1. The magical portal to this stupid report submission opens and closes briefly on Wednesday. And I am perhaps the only one who is wrestling against the time to complete both reports for subsequent days. Ironically, here I am, the perverted fool who spends hours and hours of sleepless nights perfecting something that my lecturers probably wouldn't give a fuck by the end of the day.

Welcome to my convolution.