2024 HSC Chat (1 Viewer)

[alanainpain06]

my school doesnt offer accelerated, everyone's too dumb so there's no demand

LMAO

 

[he1nl]

I have been for English. I recommend a study group and collaborating with your friends (@xoNat ). My school is still doing the year 11 syllabus for standard math.

oooh yes!!! i see what you mean, study groups are great but my friends enjoy studying individually and i feel soo awk if i ask someone else outside of my friend group

 

[he1nl]

yes but i do more maths >>>

death to you

 

[xoNat]

I have been for English. I recommend a study group and collaborating with your friends (@xoNat ). My school is still doing the year 11 syllabus for standard math.

yeah but your friends have to be not retarded

 

[xoNat]

oooh yes!!! i see what you mean, study groups are great but my friends enjoy studying individually and i feel soo awk if i ask someone else outside of my friend group

what texts are you doing

 

[he1nl]

what texts are you doing

common mod - 1984, mod a is the tempest + hagseed, mod b is ts eliot poetry, mod c is some essay + other stuff idk

you?

 

[xoNat]

oooh yes!!! i see what you mean, study groups are great but my friends enjoy studying individually and i feel soo awk if i ask someone else outside of my friend group

choose the smartest kid you know @alanainpain06 does english extension and is boosting me so hard

 

[he1nl]

yeah but your friends have to be not retarded

the shade is unreal

 

[xoNat]

common mod - 1984, mod a is the tempest + hagseed, mod b is ts eliot poetry, mod c is some essay + other stuff idk

you?

Vertigo, W;t and Donne, King Henry IV and a bunch of the mod c texts

 

[alanainpain06]

why did they make us do vertigo the most terrible text in the entire world I hate Anna so much she is a total cow! ! girl I don't care about your dead child

 

[xoNat]

why did they make us do vertigo the most terrible text in the entire world I hate Anna so much she is a total cow! ! girl I don't care about your dead child

literally no one does vertigo

 

[xoNat]

give anna a break she freaking gave birth to a dead baby and now she's having hallucinations of it like that's kinda fucked up

 

[xoNat]

pls psl nat pick me pick me my hand is up

nah i can only tutor standard mate ily but I'm not that smart

 

[alanainpain06]

give anna a break she freaking gave birth to a dead baby and now she's having hallucinations of it like that's kinda fucked up

Luke didn't give birth to it did he?? she is crazy and mean to him

 

[xoNat]

Luke didn't give birth to it did he?? she is crazy and mean to him

true but we have to be thankful their relationship is sucking so i can write about it in my essay

 

[alanainpain06]

Luke didn't give birth to it did he?? she is crazy and mean to him

WHY WOUOD HE HALLUNCIATE SOME UGLY LI

true but we have to be thankful their relationship is sucking so i can write about it in my essay

I wish their house burnt down

 

[he1nl]

Vertigo, W;t and Donne, King Henry IV and a bunch of the mod c texts

wow they sound hard im praying for you

 

[xoNat]

it should have it would've been so much for meaningful and i could write about it in my essay

 

[xoNat]

wow they sound hard im praying for you

omg that's so sweet thank you, yours sound ok like a lot of my friends liked 1984

 

[xoNat]

"In all the wind-funnelled anarchy of burning bush, the tidal wave of flame and smoke, Luke had been fearful, yes, but not unnerved. But looking around him now at the charred ground, the blasted earth, the logs leaking smoke, he is gutted. It’s as if not just the land has been singed but his body with it. He stumbles, weeping, through the powdery ash, climbing over the still-warm charcoal of the fallen trunks, and he is back in the delivery room, two years ago, when Anna had given birth to the boy; his tiny, curled-up body with its grey translucent skin, his dark, wine-red lips, the pinkish white of his eyelids, closed to them for all time. This child of their loins, only seven and a half months old, dead in the womb; their dearest boy whose heartbeat had one day stopped, lapsed into silence, with his parents unawares, thinking that all was well, that nature was taking its course and that their lives were going along just fine. In those bleak hours after they had cleaned the sticky blood from Anna’s body and wheeled her into a pale blue hospital room, the hospital counsellor asked them if they wanted to give their child a name, and they nodded, blankly, and said yes, it would be a good idea. But in the numbness of their grief, no name presented itself and thereafter they had come to think of him as ‘the boy’. It seemed so much more intimate than any given name. And now all this grey ash, bringing it all back to him, that other day, the day he thought he had put out of his mind once and for all, a day on the harbour, just the two of them and the skipper of the hired boat, and the boy’s ashes in a tiny ceramic vial, and Anna collapsing onto the deck and he, alone, stepping to the edge of the boat and sprinkling the ashes over the white-tipped waves. It was a cold day, and he had worn the navy ribbed sweater, the one that at the height of the fire he had discarded on the bed, because he could not bear the thought that it might come to any harm, and because it reminded him too much of other damage. But the ember had landed there, and the sweater had burnt anyway, and in its thick smouldering resistance it had most likely saved the house."
what a shit fest