Little theatrics of the Exam-ed mind

This week is a full exam phase and fortunately my lofty ambitions of regaining GPA count have not been so wispy as a macro lens shot of Helmuth's fag. Three gone, literature and psychology are always the big dogs. For a reason. Literature is the paper I want to perform well in any condition. The sacred cow. Psychology is the first one I ever start preparing for and no matter what screw it up. Record on past four years except boards. The taboo pig. With literature gone today with a sweet aftertaste, I feel all my barking and obsession about the obnoxious negro rhetoric of being oppressed and their personal little articles becoming universally important with names like negritude ( that was not even original!), all of it has paid off. I read and read after photography paper. From 4 till 9. Came back home and collapsed. I still had to refer to Robert Young and Diaspora practices for an edge over my mortal classmates (snigger. I love reading up these hidden texts and keeping them for myself). I woke up in the morning and started again. By 12 I was bored and confused. I stopped. But I was quite confident. Finally I wrote and wrote. I put in all the privileged exclusive spice from those reference books. But the night was tormenting. I slept with s subconscious ringing voice saying "This much is not enough". I literally tossed and turned the whole night in the guilt of not having finished reading. Eventually by morning I could NOT resist. Phew-hah. It is gone, indeed for good. Welcome to my Obi! (Mutley grin)