let lemons be angry

Just when i was convinced that i'm on my way to being the fittest i've been in a long time, what with training-pe-training-pe-training-training in a row, my ankle pulls a fast one on me. I think it's going to be hard to find a coach who already knows us the way mr lim does. He can look like a prick sometimes, with his roof of eyebrows and frowny face, but he's not a prick. And he does care about volleyball.

There's nothing to say about this rather common week. The same amusing distractions, the same canteen scene with my class at the same bench, the same solitude in the rundown castle of an art room. The same dreams to clean up the art room. In fact, there's nothing different about being j2. Besides knowing my way about the school now, and being more cynical about things in general, there's nothing different. When you don't know everyone around you and don't know the unwritten codes of conduct yet, you tend to be wide-eyed and open to things, even mass dances. You're afraid to break rules, but in doing so, make other mistakes. So this rather common week has passed typically, but i hope something will stir beneath the calm. Survey forms may be innocent-looking things, but everything contributes to the climate.

Today it hit me--my parents are doing a dangerous job. And so am i.