A choice must be made; a risk taken; a chance foregone; a life derailed.
I have failed, yet again, to meet the required grade for my course. After nearly a year of fighting and wading through the muck of accountancy I have once more proven to myself that it is not for me, and that I can never learn to live with it. At its core, I honestly believe it is loathing for accountancy. Or so I tell myself for comfort. I have no idea what I’m doing, I have no idea what I want to do, I have no idea what to do now. I suppose I will have to work, to get away. Short of suicide, I believe getting out of Naga is the next best thing I can do to save me from myself.
I am afraid. Strangely enough, I have never been more calm.
I have never been lonelier either.