I lost myself. Akwardly.
It doesn't seem that the world is changing. Not much.
But I changed. I miss my old self.
SPM changed me so much. And I hate it.
For once, let me tell you something. I LOVE ENGLISH.
Writing in textbooks, exam papers, scrap papers had always made me proud of myself. Eventhough I wrote nonsense sometimes. It made me happy. Super happy. Being a native speaker didn't help much. Well, I hate grammars, I never knew their names or whatsoever. But there's this charm that made me addicted and obsessed in writing English, rather than writing in Malay. I tend to be more honest and carefree when writing in English, maybe because its simplicity. Malay is complex, too flowery for me. Writing in Malay made me writing rubbish.
There was once a time when I write to know what I think. When I read it back, memories flooded into me.I laughed, I cried, I felt simply stupid. These mix of emotions gave me a sense of relief, that I am still alive. That I am still the plain me. In my high school years (Form 4 to be exact), I love English exams. I could write essays, which something that I really like. I never prepared for the essays. I just come to class and write what I want. I like surprises. I surprised myself with whatever stories that I made up in my mind, on the spot. Yes, the stories are nonsense, with no plot, climax and else, but it taught me how amazing imagination can be. MY imagination to be exact *cough* *cough*. Examinations are just experiments, wonderful.
Yet, embracing senior year for SPM, the most important exam they say, pressure started to dawn on me. My essays rarely got highest marks, I managed to get 30+ over 50. (note: I only wrote narratives). My other friends, the brilliant ones seemed to get 40/50, which is like the maximum mark a student can get. Our teachers did not want us students to be overconfident. And most of the high-scorers wrote open-topic essays.
Then, I started to panic. English is the only subject that I am good at, thus I cannot accept lower marks! It is like a humiliation to myself. It made me think that I have no advantages on anything. For students that prefer narratives, Mrs Dayana asked us to prepare a story plot in advance, so that we at least had some ideas in mind. But it's a big problem to me, as I never made plots to my stories, just plainly imagination, on the spot. I rarely finished my essay homework (sorry Mrs Dayana!), I got stuck in writing the most simple things, as if my imagination refused to cooperate with me anymore. The only time that I write essay is during examinations, but meh, I did not feel anything joyful anymore. It was mere because of examinations.
Writing in textbooks, exam papers, scrap papers had always made me proud of myself. Eventhough I wrote nonsense sometimes. It made me happy. Super happy. Being a native speaker didn't help much. Well, I hate grammars, I never knew their names or whatsoever. But there's this charm that made me addicted and obsessed in writing English, rather than writing in Malay. I tend to be more honest and carefree when writing in English, maybe because its simplicity. Malay is complex, too flowery for me. Writing in Malay made me writing rubbish.
There was once a time when I write to know what I think. When I read it back, memories flooded into me.I laughed, I cried, I felt simply stupid. These mix of emotions gave me a sense of relief, that I am still alive. That I am still the plain me. In my high school years (Form 4 to be exact), I love English exams. I could write essays, which something that I really like. I never prepared for the essays. I just come to class and write what I want. I like surprises. I surprised myself with whatever stories that I made up in my mind, on the spot. Yes, the stories are nonsense, with no plot, climax and else, but it taught me how amazing imagination can be. MY imagination to be exact *cough* *cough*. Examinations are just experiments, wonderful.
Yet, embracing senior year for SPM, the most important exam they say, pressure started to dawn on me. My essays rarely got highest marks, I managed to get 30+ over 50. (note: I only wrote narratives). My other friends, the brilliant ones seemed to get 40/50, which is like the maximum mark a student can get. Our teachers did not want us students to be overconfident. And most of the high-scorers wrote open-topic essays.
Then, I started to panic. English is the only subject that I am good at, thus I cannot accept lower marks! It is like a humiliation to myself. It made me think that I have no advantages on anything. For students that prefer narratives, Mrs Dayana asked us to prepare a story plot in advance, so that we at least had some ideas in mind. But it's a big problem to me, as I never made plots to my stories, just plainly imagination, on the spot. I rarely finished my essay homework (sorry Mrs Dayana!), I got stuck in writing the most simple things, as if my imagination refused to cooperate with me anymore. The only time that I write essay is during examinations, but meh, I did not feel anything joyful anymore. It was mere because of examinations.
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