Cher troisnyx* officiel

I don't know why I've been running out of words to say lately. I especially don't know why these days just seem so mundane to me. But all I do know is that when Dr Chantheney spoke to us during today's Business Studies lecture, she did ask us about November 30th.

The prom date.

The very same prom - to which I'm not going.

I never got to tell her, but if I do meet her on Wednesday or on Friday, I'll tell her everything. I'll tell her about their lackadaisical attitude. I'll tell her the things which I have to tell her - even if I do feel intense pain, because the very same people who did this to me are my friends. I wouldn't want to regard them as anything less even if what they did seems despicable in the eyes of my fellow A-Levels friends. Yes, sure, by not going to the prom, I won't expect anything spectacular for that night, but I hope to call some friends over - maybe then I'll have the time of my life. By not going, I save myself from another heartbreak - I won't get heartbroken over the fact that I'm not performing. I can be my own rockstar or musical genius at home. Or, I could just conjure a French-themed or Japanese-themed night complete with Winamp desktop visualisations.

I don't need three thousand-odd people and a huge ballroom to make me elated. I know I don't. And that ballroom's only gonna make me happy if Raja Singham or Aria Singham coerces me.