2012 and sleepless night just as usual.

This is a rewarding christmas. I am truly delighted in staying with my family. Every second with them is a present for me, and I am always grateful for that. I didn't do much textbooks, academics revision, however, I found, and I did achieve something more than that. Through listening to various kind of people I learn loads.

I have another problem too. I think, I am sick. I am afflicted by a disease of vague feelings, between love and something strange. well, I am unsure about that. Perhaps I can never be sure about that. The dogmas of buddha, and the advice from my father, are getting the thing more complicated. In a nutshell, my thought is in utterly mess and troubles.

I naturally, sms her every day (i even didn't attempt to control? is that a sort of sin?) i feel happy when i stay with her. however, i feel unconfident, and she deserves much better.

I would like to put aside those stuff, if I could. it would be a trivial and tedious mumbling in a hindsight after many years perhaps. i have the feeling i am in love again. since i have the symptoms of loving, just as something happened one and a half year ago.

i think i have a well-constructed plan, and mindset to tackle with the tribulation and trials ahead of me. i am calm about the exam. i know i must be more disciplinary and work harder to exert fully my ability and brainpower. it is important. every time when i watch bbc, i know, i must do it. and i will show the people who mock at me, that, you were wrong, and you are wrong. i can do much better than your expectation. but i will never laugh at them; but be thankful for their encouragement.

happy, and smooth, and peaceful 2012. calmness, focus and insistence, and i hope... right, that's what i hope, she will be here with me..

in the morning.

i was dwelling upon the idea, the touchstone of 'left' as i had a shower. the idea of 'left' always swirls in my mind, and reminds me of some fragmentary pictures of the past. an impressive conversation with my teacher, kk or, some important words which change my life totally from my father, etc, but i still haven't found the answer.

yesterday i spent a night in reading 'the third way'. giddens seems to provide an reply by citing from a italian philosopher norberto bobbio. well i didn't find it very fulfilling, esp the attitude toward the equality point.

another day start. it is now 1012, after briefly having a look at bbc news. must work now. still a pile of work is accumulating on my table, endlessly.

plan for the week before going home.

I have already made a plan for the weeks before christmas. it would be very busy and tense. seven politics past papers are planned to be accomplished before sunday, and rewrite and finish all the final correction on next friday. sociology notes should be done before saturday, and print on monday for holiday revision. history time line should be revised and finished the last part hopefully in this weekend. also, i wish that the dissertation of annoying literature will be finish before christmas.

it seems that things go right. but i am sure i need to work much much harder to consolidate what i achieved now, i should not be contented, but be humble, and self-effacing, on the ground. i am not worried. i will just work and work, good luck with me. i know i can still be more focused.

go backing to the lost track.

get my history essay done. well i dont feel a touch of relax. this week i resume to be more focus. i am catching back the lost track. luckily it wasnt too far. a whim of idea of becoming a vegetarian swirling in my mind, but i cant still make up my mind to do it because i miss my favourite ham and mustard sandwich. bad excuse, of course.

i reactivated my facebook and browed through the news from a schoolmate whom is unknown to me. anyway her pictures in university of cambridge more or less re-enlightened the fame in my heart to go for cambridge. because as the time goes by i feel i have less and less chance to get into it. i dont know why.

i have to sleep. such a tired night, after a couple slices of bread with my favorite crunchy peanuts butter.

I have read a few chapters of religion, holocaust, and class. Concentration getting better. Keep it going.

unlucky day.

I have been very lazy and unfocused for a week, a lot of problem troubling me recently. Today I dressed myself up and resume the regular, discipline lifestyle. Well. misshapen thing followed. I broke my USB! Every revision notes I made HAS LOST! OH MY GOD!

God bless me. I need to work REALLY HARD TO GET THE THING BACK THIS TIME!

Lazy week.

Mind was scattering during this week, I was quite lazy and unfocused. I must stuck my mind up and get my thing done tomorrow. I am reading Obama "The dream from my father" and those American fool stuff. I hate it for no plausible reasons. Well I do. Racism perhaps. I hate racism too.

Quite frustrated of my english literature. Not doing well, and my teacher unrelenting sneer and mockery at my essay spurred. It isn't a very fine thing to say, it is awful every two mins, at least it wasn't sound nice to me.

Having watched my favourite Mummy.

Tomorrow I must control myself and start to make more progress. Settle myself, and prepare for Cambridge PPSIS aim.

Losing in labyrinth.

Fear always whispered to me that it is the fact you couldn't , and you are not that intelligent to be a student of top-five universities. Tonight I think I proved it again. I think I have tried every way which possibly can to write an essay of A grade standard. It was a big strike to me when I realize my classmate, get a A star in her history essay, I felt very, very frustrated. She was overjoyed to be the first one achieving A star within two months. She is very clever indeed. She is just, brilliant. And me? I bought loads of books and read and worked like her, (Well, I think I did more than her in revision) but still left by her many streets behind. I should be happy for her, well, I am happy for her, whilst I was terribly frustrated of my incapableness. Even my Hong Kong classmate got a bottom A grade in her essay. They didn't read as much as I did. Sometimes I did think, if my parents didn't graciously, put so many money in my education, I would probably be a absolute useless moron. They worked so hard and wasted so much resource upon me but I didn't get what should I get. I am very shameful, and stupid.

I have been receiving miserable grade in my essay from all my subjects for two weeks, (probably far longer than that.). What I should do, I know not. Well, now I am lost in toto.

I dont know what to write no more, and I cant write at all. Good night.

Floating with boundary.

Tonight the sense of incapableness filled in my mind. I failed to write a good (and well, great) history essay. I spent one hour to write my introduction. I was quite lost. I can hardly see the land ahead, let alone the promised land - I am floating in the sea, looking over the sky, and having no clue what to do. I thought I could be material of UCL or at least, top five universities. But now, though I tried hard to suppress the thought that I was wrong, stupid and slow, I could hardly find a reason to dissuade me that was not persuasive.

I did a few things this weekend. To sum up, I didn't make very good use of my time this weekend, but I did do some revision, though not as hard as last few weeks. I keep revising and reading new stuff. I mired in the predicament of writing and I could hardly breathe. I need to sleep. I dont really know what to do, apart from working harder and harder and pushing myself more and more to the corner, I have to admit that the no progress dilemma had defeated deeply my morale and motivation to work harder, meantime I am really tired. I want a break. No I shouldnt. I nned to sleep. Good night. Hope things will soon get better...

Loitering languages.

I am a chinese born in British Hong Kong, a Anglo-Chinese clout tiny city in Asia-Pacific. I have been studying english since the age of three; and have been profoundly studying traditional Chinese since I was ten. I could write and recite old chinese poems, and passages when I was small. I went to England to study when I was sixteen. I learned to speak and write and read french since I was 15.

Chinese Culture is my first language without doubt. I accept it naturally, use it comfortably, and believe it deeply. It teaches me how to be a good person, mainly of morally influences, and the beauty of the nature, however, I didn't learn much logical, rational mindset from my mother-tongue, my mother-culture. British Culture, its language opens another totally different window , it is a window of European Culture. It emphasizes rational thinking, logical, and rule of law. Not only what history have shown us in the West, but the language itself, is constructed by very logic basis and spirit of clarity. It reminds me of the importance of mastering both Chinese and English. English is more flexible than Chinese. Chinese is more expressive than english when it comes to poetry and sensibility. The language of Chinese is a picture which can move you. Every chinese letter has profound meaning to be interpreted. It is a code of culture. English, however is likely to be a good tool of thinking.

A battle to insist.

I can only content with discontent today. Unbelievably there was a flash - just a flash of whim enticing me to give up. The situation is challenging, I have to admit. I got a B minus today in my essay and a straight grade B in politics. Only a month left before the exam, I must get an A. And the problem is I find immensely difficult to upgrade my writings on the whole of my subjects. I did try my best to write my english literature essay but the result was disaster. I get stuck in a stalemate, and I am scrambling out with all my might and main. The direction doesn't seem clear as before; the essays I produced seriously with immense effort ended up with poor result. I am tired. I have to admit that when I think of the sight of contempt from my schoolmates, and my father's friends's belittlement, I feel worse. I am already, I think, doing everything I possibly can to achieve a good result. One of my classmate I do want to defeat her, and she is just, you know, much cleverer than me; must I admit that. Things go wrong, future grows shorter, and present gets worse.

Well there was a talk, which relaxed me a little today, a MP of Cambridge, Julian Huppert came to our school. Interesting meetings.

Hope things will go well. I am tired. It is not very late, but I have to sleep. Goodnight.

A brake in progress.

I am not satisfied with my progress today that I was a bit unfocused and tired, I took a nap from four to six, rewrote my politics essay, and watched my favourite "Frozen Planet" in BBC one. The killer whales were just amazing. They are very clever. Swimming in a high speed toward the ice and creating waves to wash off the poor seal on the ice, thereafter, infusing bubble to disorientated and dragged it under the sea. That's how they hunt. Well-organized and tactical.

I wish I would be able to finish my introduction to sociology and french revolution and cold war history. They are all very important to me. God Bless me. I must work harder tomorrow.

Goodnight

Make perfect use of every second.

My target is very clear: I want to go to Oxbridge. I found it fearsome to say. But I have to admit that. This is a long target. And the short target is absolute doubtless and firm: I must get all A in my subjects, above all, english literature and history are most important.

Today I was quite contented with my progress. I was very tired of my lesson from nine to almost six, and the weather was miserable. I still made good use of my time and wrote a long politics essay, and the introduction of history essay. I desperately yearn for A in my History. I am confident in achieving that but I know I must work very very hard. A long way to go. It was just Unit one. I mustn't be panic. I will work the best of myself. I must.

I set 7:30 at my alarm clock and'll get up and revise and reorganize my whole unit one again (history) and plan to make some toast (with my favourite chocolate) for breakfast before going to school. Recently I have been struggling with getting up perhaps I was too weary the night before. Before getting to bed, all the liquid of memory and intelligence in my brain seemed to be dried off by mountain of works. Nonetheless I hope the blight british weather will be brighter. It is very late. Good luck with my study. I have to sleep.

God bless me. I know I can do it.

Nothing special but confidence and calamity.

I have finished my english literature analysis today "No one so much as you." I wrote about one thousand words. Today I get back my analysis upon the other poems, my previous homework, it wasn't satisfactory, but I am not worried because I am going to rewrite them again. I am serious I am not worry. I am doing my best to improve all my skills. I shall get better. It is very late tomorrow will be a long day. Good night. I know I can go to Cambridge. Keep telling myself keep going and never give up.

Clock-working Nerves At Daybreak.

It is pitch-dark outside. It is 4 am now. I woke up. I am listening to russian songs. Perhaps the alcohol awake me; by stirring up every nerve in my brain, it also, meantime deludes me into drowsiness. I am drearily awaking. The alcohol relentlessly clockwork my weary nerves dancing. I peep at the street. There's nothing I can see in front of me. Outside of window, it is the nameless, faceless, lightless darkness. I am tiredly energetic.

There is nothing ahead of me, there is nothing behind me. Future is long, and past is short. I am just very, very tired. More often I am bewildered, how to get the thing right. Neither hint of sunlight outside nor inside. There is nothing wrong with me, but tire, and solitude. Tomorrow I will find some books to read. It may probably help.

Bad luck.

Tonight was unlucky. I went for a dinner with my friend at Hawks Club and my bike was stolen. I locked it carefully to the fence outside the club. It was disappeared. I was purified at the cleanness in front of me, vain was it be, and walked slowly home for an hour. It wasn't a nice experience. I did feel depressed for several mins. But anyway now it is fine. Next time I shall be more careful about that.

I did learn something though, that we shouldn't let our emotion floating like an ice in the tempest. I must control my emotion and keep myself calm. That's the best way facing different kind of problems, a clear, rational and logical mind even if accident came.

I am too exhausted. Good night.

Another announcement from Oxford.

Today Jasmine told us that one of our schoolmates applied to Oxford. Well, She is famously brilliant at our school anyway. And what's more, the competitiveness stress, which is not tangible are shrouding upon everyone, after listening to this news. Actually that is what just annually happen, in this time, A2 Students get offers from universities, I have heard too many schoolmates getting offers from top five (UCL, Cambridge, KCL.. ), and swaggering in front of us. The class air was tense and dense enough already, well, everyone is trying their best to hide, I think, their desperate desire to get into Cambridge or Oxford. But the point is, this news, make us seem more sullen and stressed. I am still in very well control I believe. Today I have done three essays and analysis in my English Literature, now I am going to compete my fourth which should be handed it in next week. I chose to make good use of every precious second to make progress. I am calm as usual, but never confident, after writing this dairy in a minute, I shall fling myself back to books and mountain of reading and revising. I dreamt of often (Not very dare to dream though), my parents will be proud of me, when I told them I get the offer from Cambridge PPS. Then the insult and despise from my parents's friends will crumbling into pieces and no one will remember that no more. I am never confident, god bless me, even if I don't really believe your existence, wish me luck.

An offer from King's college.

Offers from good universities of my schoolmates lay me a complex feeling these days; I think I am doing the right thing, I think I did good self-control, and make good use of every second. I dispel all my emotion which would mislead me from calamity to chaos. I know clearly the possibility of getting into Cambridge PPS is very, very low. But I still think in the least I should try; and a very clear-cut target has been set out, that I have to obtain as many subjects with A star as possible. Well, I am working on it. The feeling is just complex. I am calm but never confident, I am not panic but never with powerful view. I just want to do my duty, do my best, what's more, if, for the god sake, with all my might and main to, prove to the people who despise me, that I am definitely qualified to be one of the best, to get into the one of the best universities in the world. I want not bring shame over my parents, they were insulted, I know, they didn't say anything, but, I shall show them. I still remember how I was wailing on the plane, leaving for england, I pledged to myself, no matter how hard would it be, endure it and do my best, wash off the shame, and be brilliant. I shall not be worry; however, we will wait and watch, to see, what's going to happen.

Floater

Myriad of cliché and stock-phrase are breeding on this planet, reminds me the importance of reading with discrimination and writing sensibility with sense. Time doesn't fly, but the train of works and fun has misled me to nowhere I know. Writing, I believe, shall guide me back the clear-cut context of life.

Tonight is going to be the dusk of October and the dawn of November. A month and a half has elapsed. A couple of months away from my first examination, which would highly determine which universities I will be eligible to apply. I am calm but not confident. I think, I am doing the right thing and going to the right direction, but I don't usually believe myself.

I feel impassive but not serene. My North, My South and West and My East, are the same if now I am floating in the sea. All I would do is to just hold tightly the helm and be clam. I believe the flowing water will take me to its course and I would be silent and still. But to prevent myself from dropping off the sea and being blew off to the tempest, I must hold my helm calmly, even gale is ahead of me. There is nothing to be fear of, but the fear of itself. But I want to go home. I am not tired of school or England, but thirst for the land of my birth.