Drip.
The droplet expands
in minute ripples.
Chaos breaks the tension,
marring the placid lake of ideality
with its hard cruel reality.
The surface trembles,
then stills.
All is calm once more,
the droplet's failure
to break the Dream;
to shatter the inner core.
Drip. Drip.
Pour.

Sacrifice yourself, in patroitic pledge and silent tears in your eyes, as you take the fall, knowing that they will honour you in their thoughts, and their annual speeches, of how you tried and died, while in their heart of hearts they thank whichever god they pray too that you died instead of them.

Would it be right to blame you if I died? No.. I have only myself to blame, for not having the backbone to say no, to save myself when I could. Dying for pride, dying.. always about dying. Which is worse? Dying, knowing that you have the esteem of your friends, or living, with their scorn and loathing? Which is better.. Dying while doing your best or living with the shame of taking the easy way out?

I feel obliged to stay with the team and die. I feel a strong panic for my studies. I don't want to pass. I want to get As. Torn in two. As usual. The conflicting feelings stifle; they (the feelings) alienate me from the team. I don't think they (the team) will understand how I feel. Maybe I've not tried hard enough to voice out. More likely voicing out the wrong way. I hate being politically correct on my own blog. It irks. But I guess its just society's need to be soft and gentle with each other; to speak without strong emotion. A world full of moderation, and consideration.

I realised: disclaimers and warnings don't work. The human will always attempt to justify in defense of oneself.

I still don't get your point of view.

When all else fails, just partition the mind.

I was always individualistic, anyway.