I hate you.
Why the fuck are you doing this to me... It's only fucking insensitive.

It's... less than 24 hours to the fucking Oxford interview.
And my parents have firmly said "No bonded scholarships."
Well, that takes the pressure off everyfuckingthing. Because it doesn't fucking matter how I do tomorrow. The simple truth of the matter is that I'm not making it to Oxford. It's just not an option. I might as well skip TSA on 8 November because I'm only fighting for a formal acceptance or rejection from Oxford.
Because I'll never get to fucking go.

I hate you.
I really do.

Everybody believes in me, and the kind of student that I am. Except the both of you. You're still laying accountancy and business in front of me; face it. I'm not going down that path. It's just not what I want to do damnit. I would be fucking miserable.
I'm already fucking miserable just thinking about the freaking idea.
You can't decide what's best for me anymore. The fact is, you just have no fucking idea who I am and what I want in life.
And if I just go with your decision, I'll just hate you forever.

I hate you.
I hate you over and over and over and over. Because you have no fucking idea how much I want this. Or the kind of person that I am. I wouldn't fucking break a bond. What kind of idiot do you think you raised. I'm just not like that. I'd rather stick it through to the end.

Okay.

I'm out of angsty steam. It's the fucking interview. And all the butterflies in my stomach have died. Because it essentially doesn't matter how well I do.

I hate my life.