this month, is the month of my destruction.
no more will I dwell in the star-lit forests.
no more will my eyes water at the sight of fluffy puppies.
no more will I stuff my stomach with tofuburgers.
for this is the month of the seven exams.
this, is the month of countless competition-deadlines.
this, my friends, is the month of the drawing-performance in the woods.
this month, my beloved folk, you won't be seeing much of my sleepy self in da hoods.