Agha Khan and My Closed Book

There's a little bit of regret and a lot of shame. I might or might not pass second year and for some reason I'm not as scared as I should be for what has to come. I know I'll pee my trousers when I'm in SCIL and finding out the result is posted or emailed and everyone will run to SCIL to check it out. Or maybe I'm in class. I know then I'll be the Sarah I've always been inside, the scared-to-death one. 

Maybe things have changed and maybe, I should accept other people's decisions but I've always been treated like I matter and this maybe new to me or whatever but whatever it is, I make a fucking fool out of myself for it. Anyway, what I had to talk about was Agha Khan. I am jealous of those students man. I wish I had tried. It seems like its the best and I wish I had tried. I don't think I'll be a good doctor. In these two years, I have shit practice and a little ratta in my mind, which I should be worried about. I was telling my friend, Sundus, the other day how I don't want to practice medicine but I want to learn more and more. She gave me the look which is the best reaction to the nuisance I speak at times, at  all times. 

So, this year I plan to let it be however it has to be. This year I think I'll do whatever the fuck I want. This month I will live for myself and this time I'll be what I was. Or something different or a fucking anteater but anything but what I have been lately. 

I blame everything on Pakistan. The fact that I am away from family and family is what matters to me. I've broken trusts and I've lied and I've tried not giving a fuck to what people think at times. Hell, that's when I'm tired of all the shit. 

Man, it's the fucking fat up in here.