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I think if I tell myself that enough, I would start believing in it. This term? A bloodbath in comparison with the last, which was already pretty horrid. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Update: When I say I regret coming to Singapore, here’s what I meant: my original plan was to repeat STPM (the tough, Malaysian equivalent of A-Levels), where I was pretty damn sure I would do better–I didn’t work hard the first time through, I know I can work hard. Heck, I’ve been working my ass off for the past 1.5 years, of course I can work hard.

And as a failsafe, I would do an London External degree. I would repeat my SAT and do SAT II, which I know I would have done very well. But just in case, I would have a respectable degree to fall back on. Good plan. But I fell for the first university that accepted me. I knew myself very well, but I still doubted myself and decided not to blow up what seemed like a great opportunity.
I could have avoided all the suffering I been through in the past one and a half years had I stuck to my guns. Besides, better results in STPM and SATs may have gotten be another offer at SMU as well – so it wouldn’t be so much of the one bird in the hand, two birds in the bush situation.

But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? RIGHT?!?

There’s this small mind game I like to play – if you could travel back in time to one spot in your life where you can tell yourself to make a better decision, where would it be. I would say, this would be the one. I didn’t feel as much regret compared to all the *bleep*ed up mess I’ve done earlier.


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