Intellectual discourse

I returned home after another excessively depressing talk with Pong :P The propensity for depressingness is not, as far as I can see, either of our faults by the way -- if you can find someone who can become depressed with you instead of demeaning the conundrum with bracing platitudes it is exceedingly rare -- and that was how it was. It was about nine and my parents were conferring in my father's room. It seems as if my brother's gotten an invitation to some kind of MOE scholarship presentation.


Meanwhile, my mother attempts to understand me, unwittingly using the most fantastic oxymorons I've ever come across in all my years of human interaction.

mother: (rattling about all the alternative academic routes I should take, conveniently not mention the 'failing JC part')
me: I wish you wouldn't say that -- it sounds as if I really don't have a choice.
mother: There are many choices in life... (insert extended justification involving the daughters of cousins of friends here)


I suppose I can just wish and wish and nothing will ever change.

Now. 3000 more words to write before I finish that bloody SEA History assignment.