mad yaks

I really don't know what to think any more.

It's not right that I have absolutely zero motivation to study for SPM or even face that dreaded, selfish, manic monster who intruded into my life without so much as a 'if-you-please'...

I'm not quite sure what I'm typing/ writing/ spewing right now.

My mind has gone blank, dead, frozen....just boredom boredom boredom. Utterly, completely, wholly bored, I am.

It's not right that so many ideas besiege me at one time and then just leave like that! (Like what? I don't know. *shrugs*)

Oh, here's an idea....

Rowling keeps yakking on and on about her seventh and final Potter book - thank goodness she's nearly done with it! - and she has somewhat confirmed that the final word in the book and the entire Scarred Wizardhead series will be this: SCAR.

Oh haha, forgive me if I'm amused.

So I thought about several possible - but probably not logical - situations in which she might end the book.

Situation 1:

'Ron?' said Hermione.

'Hmmm?'

'Thank you for getting rid of that stupid git with the scar.'

Hate me already? Here's more:

Situation 2:

'Hahahaha! You shall die tonight!' Voldemort brandished his snapped - but nevertheless all-powerful, murdering - wand aloft in the inky-black sky decorated with artistic, tasteful Death Marks (FYI, he updated the design. It's the 21st century after all).

'Never!' Harry yelled with all his heart.

'Oh shuddup, you idiot.' There was a brilliant flash of green light. Voldemort laughed maniacally.

'The Potter boy is dead - FINALLY!! Woohoo! Bring out those Firewhiskeys, Wormtail! Hell to the scar!'

I'm asserting my basic human right to speak what I want and when I want. Refer to the Moral syllabus of SPM for more info on 'kebebasan bersuara.'

Situation 3:

'HARRY!' Hermione yelled.

'What?!'

'Your scar is fake!'

'No it isn't!'

'Look, it washes off!'

'What the - I've been living for seventeen years with a bloody useless scar!'

I don't have a life, yeah. And I'm fed-up with reading about Potter and his scar...too much fanfiction, I suppose.

I've been thinking and thinking about some questions, about life and people, relationships, the future...

Question 1: Is it easier to let someone go as you fall deeper in love with that person? I thought of this when I watched Sepet again recently...

Question 2: At what age can you really fall in love with a person? Is it possible for a young child of ten to love someone his/ her age? (Yasmin Ahmad's Mukhsin coming out soon...good.)

Question 3: How do you tell the difference between love and infatuation?

Arggghhhh....my head, my head is going.

And here's another short rhyme going on and on and on in my head...

Endless, falling, sickening game
How well me you maim.
Everyone bows down for you
Sucking the dirt off your shoe.

I love Muse too much. I'm pretty twisted as it is.

And to Chloe: My blog does not revolve around you. (Joking la!) Forgive me if I do not mention you in any of my posts from this day after.

I can't think any longer.....