I Run Faster Than You Can

Don't ask me what I'm doing up at 2 am. Actually—yes; ask me, and expect to become a punching bag of my grieviences and angst.

I've realized that it's not safe to force some kid's maturity into levelling up, since all he now has is a rather artificial and synthetic form of understanding that is clouded by a fog of naivety that seems to prevent the rooting of his true maturity which is, I believe, more than just saying stock phrases in some attempt to appear superior. It takes time to experience and understand things first-hand, than to listen to anecdotes and take them as The Truth And Nothing But The Truth.

My place in several camp committees has rendered my more controlled sleeping schedules of yore irrelevant.
My tea's gone cold.
UNSW's international subject competitions are getting less challenging to the point of frustration due to immense boredom. I no longer feel that I have achieved much even with a high distinction.
There is a strange sound coming from my window.
I want to sing Binama, Kasar, Daemon, Shima e, Ave Maria by Javier Busto, Sleep and This Marriage by Eric Whitacre, Aglepta and Shinjiru!! I think the only part of Adam Lay Ybounden that the audience prefers listening to is the ending (which is seriously quite nice) but the melodic line is quite difficult to appreciate, I guess.
I want to go to Island Creamery! Though the wait is long, the anticipation brings out the flavour of things, somehow.
I'm reading My Latest Grievience (which is written in a clever, witty way through the eyes of an intellectual who has lived her entire childhood out in a college), and Moon Tiger (written in an original way that borders slightly on experimental but still manages to engage instead of distancing the reader, which I find is so prevailant in modernist literature, that I decided to read The Waves in fits to prevent its poetic style of prose from influencing the oh-so-standard English essays that seem to prefer the conformist manner of writing that cramps whatever speck of creativity, which has to be then carefully weaved in with the rest of the words.)
Response to H.E.L.P. has been disappointing, to say the least. There are teachers who hastily tick the 'fail' box and then comment 'Enough said!', as if we have psychic abilities to understand reasons and then miraculously handle critique. If we need to make the survey form more specific, i.e. needing to remind them that we would appreciate constructive comments in the comments column, then I don't see any degree of professionalism at all, and all I see is pompousness and conceit. But to be fair, most survey forms had constructive comments, be it failing or passing the proposal, which has certainly helped alot. We'll see next year, I guess.