Frustration

 

Ever have that romantic affection for someone where you want to get their attention by rubbing their face off with your oh-so-cool-and-brilliant-and-amazing intellectual capability on solving complex and intricate math problems, or at least getting an uno in math per say?

BUT GUESS WHAT?

LIFE DOES NOT GO THAT WAY BITCH!

Okay, I didn’t get a high grade in Math 17 (at least for my standards). It is one of the two subject that I didn’t get to ace this sem, out of five. But so fucking what? My life FREAKING continues!

Forgive my profanities, I am just so fucking jealous and frustrated at myself as fuck! But oh wells, perhaps this is just me procrastinating instead of studying pre-calculus. And also, perhaps this is also JUST ME frustrating about math because unlike myself, he got an uno on both math 17 and math 100. IT’S UNFAIR! (Trust me, I’m looking at his little face right now on FB and I wanna smash it. Sadly, even I don’t want to mess with something so grand, not to mention–gorgeous, so the face-smashing would probably have to wait. Damn, even his looks are biased. Basically cheating on life. Yep. That’s it. Dear God, you’re so biased.) But so what, my grades on math does not define who I am.

*insert mahal ko o mahal ako here*
*insert awkward and ostensibly horrifying self-loathing and extremely embarrassing definitely not so sober dance moves here*

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