The Dysfunctional Pilgrim

This was written a year ago, when my final observation was done and my supervisor informed me of my performance in my practical training.  Things have changed since then. Not really, but lately, I'm ... tired.  This was meant to be personal, but I thought of sharing it here. Why? I don't really know. Hopefully others can relate. More importantly, in typing these things, I hope to make sense of myself.  10 October 2015: Beat up teacher night What a messed up teacher I am. I don't remember all my students' names. I don't know if I've made a true connection with them, or if I was just rushing through the syllabus and worrying about my own performance and FYP too much. I don't know whether I've done any good at all, and I'm sure not all of them are going to perform well during their finals. I've failed so many. I can excuse myself and say this is just my first time, I'm not even a real teacher, etc. But the fact is in these four month...

I was riffling through my old school essays for my writing assignment, and I found this little piece. This was written for a mid-term or finals in 2009, can't remember exactly. Maybe it was SPM trials. I always preferred writing fiction during exams  because it made it easier for what I call "under-pressure crapping", and I never edited it apart from the spelling and grammar errors.  Anyway, I've reread it, and surprisingly....I don't hate it. mmmmm.......I did deviate from the topic "Courage" by a LOT though.... I'm more of a narcissist than I thought. Ah well, decided to share it here.  This was 17-yr-old-sweating-in-exam-hall-me trying to create a bittersweet/horror/hanging ending....  xxxxxxxxxxxx I charged up the stairs of the tower, stumbling over dead bodies and debris. Sweat was pouring down my face as I gasped for air; the pain in my lungs was searing me. My heart pounded rapidly, as the fear in my soul attempted to drown out ...

First of, I'm not even sure whether the title is grammatically correct. Someone let me know if it's ok? Because it sounds kinda off. Moving on. It's been about 10 yrs since I moved to Seremban. I never did blog much on this because I only started blogging 6 yrs after the move and most of my life revolved around Seremban by then. In fact, it's difficult sometimes to remember life in PJ before. I'm certainly not a city girl anymore. KL/PJ life kinda freaks me out now. But one vivid memory that would always stay with me: my back door neighbour. I have no idea who they are, I don't know their names, I don't know where they came from, I know nothing about them. Except that they had a dog and every Saturday and Sunday afternoon, someone would be playing his electric guitar. Ever since we moved into that house (I was about four or six), the same thing would happen almost every weekend. It always was old rock-ish (or metal...I'm not too sure...