2. Strange faces are starting etch themselves on the surface of your brain - dammit, these strangers are becoming familiar. Who is that? I don't know your name but I know your face and the bag you carry and the way you laugh way too loudly. I don't know your story but I know what you had for lunch last week. The faces you see are the ones you run into every day; you notice a hair cut or a different hair style or the newly minted tired look on their face. You know them.... but not really. You want to say something but you hold back.

3. Today we had a good break. We laughed and swapped stories over tasteless meals. No one looked at the chipped edges of the yellow table because we were too busy looking at each other. 

4. Today we had a not-so-good break. We used our phones and hid our faces because we had nothing to say to each other. No one ate - and I was the one who chipped off the edges of the yellow table. 

5. Two words: Rat race. Do you feel it? I do. Then again, I have the propensity to feel such things too strongly. Have you done question 1 of worksheet 3? No, I haven't - you have? That makes me feel shitty and suffocated and anxious (and like a loser - let's not forget that). 12/15? She got 13. Why didn't I get 13? I could have - no, I should have. This transcends my capabilities, I start to think. Been there, done that. 

6. We shouldn't care about such things.

7. We all care about such things.

8. 17 and 18 year olds are a bucket of hormones.

9. I don't feel like myself. I feel minimised, scaled down. Less filled with life; less filled with me. 

10. Often times I wish I could hit the restart button on Junior College life - I cannot help the niggling feeling in the depths of my stomach I'm doing it all wrong. For so long I've been wondering (and anticipating) these two years - God, when I was 13, these JC kids seemed so grown up. They looked so smart and old - old enough to wear their skirts as short as they liked; old enough to slip their hands through hands of boys they didn't know. When I was 15, I thought when I went to JC life would snap into place for me. I'd finally reach my full potential and achieve what I've been coveting since forever - all rounded-ness. I didn't think about the short skirts or the strange boys. Now I feel scared - I can't help but feel like I'm already off to a wrong start. Two years is a short time (ephemeral at it's finest).... I am just nervous I'll wreck it like I did so many other things. Now at 17, all I want from these two years is personal achievement. Success - for once at last.