squabble and no luck.

This deserved an entry here only a week later but I'm a little too overwhelmed to delay it any further. I have been trying all that I possibly could, for the last two years to maintain this dynamic equilibrium between the mess that I keep making on a concurrent basis, and the sorting up part of it. Quite a travesty on how viable I am socially, the making a huge mess part is inevitable, so the best that I can do is keep cleaning it, and it just proves to be a lot of effort at times, and that's when life routes haywire.
Two years in college and I take back home nothing, except experiences maybe, friends that I've had before high-school, and just a great deal of inferences on the way I conduct myself when subjected to different situations, like a social experiment. There are just too many times that I'm way too sure that I've finally found myself a little place here, to snug in happy, and that it shall all be okay henceforth, but then there's that one horrid day and I realise how patronised I've been all this while.
I'm sitting here, a day before my final examination, with not a quarter of the syllabus checked, and just wondering what really went wrong with me.
I can't really do the patchwork anymore, when it's only so obvious that everything's gonna fall through all over again.
This is my last teenage month and from the looks of it, I still have a long way to go.