A fake letter to thou.

An attempt to somehow get my jigsawed self into a non-Aisyah Hamid worthy place (MRSM) failed once again. I'd insert more irksome adjectives but I'm in no mood to do so. And I have to stop whining.. even though it's been pulling and anchoring me down since February, the first intake. Just not my luck, once again? Now, to 98% calm myself.. Please let me spend something without the 'No, you'll be going to MRSM. You can't have them there.' Thx.