10th October, 2009.

Shit. I have... 25 minutes do to about 4 hours of coursework. The G.C.S.E. syllabus is bull shit. Is there really a need to put teenager under such a ludicrous amount of stress, to get a grade at the end, which is simply a letter? One fucking letter! 'A, B, C...'
Give me the grade and be done with it, damn it.
I've even been getting ill, just because of stress. I wish I hadn't chosen Geography's and Design Tech. Or French, but hey, you have to choose a language. That reminds me, I've got French work too. Ugh. I really need to get on top of my studies. Sorry teachers, if I'm more interested in doing something that does not involve writing an insane amount of words about Mr Collins proposal to Elizabeth Bennett. I hate romantic novels; give me some Palahniuk and I'll reconsider.
I apologize to anyone who does read this, I'm in a venting mood. My anger is not aimed at you, merely the teachers and the government for causing my brain to pulsate with stress.
And my mother, too. I'm sorry if I'm not the typical teenager. I'm not sneaking out, getting drunk, high and catching whatever STI happens to be around that night. I'm not like that, you should know that, mom. I skipped that stage in puberty. I know how it fucking messes people up; I've had to drag them across unknown grounds; watch them get taken away in the back of an ambulance. Surely that's a deterrent? To me, anyway. So please, stop trying to pick a fight with me to make me act more teenager like. Get it through your brain that I don't like arguing, I don't like putting my self in risky situations. I'm not fucking like that.
15 minutes to do that work, now. As a plus, at least I have done my Jane Austen essay. Which, no doubt, will get a shit grade. As per usual. They give you shit grades to make us work harder. That doesn't work, teachers! It makes us think that we're useless. Thus we do not try hard anymore, so the next time, we actually deserve an embarrassing mark.

I hate girls schools.