Putting my heart and soul into mugging for Biology. I’d better pass.

And right now, the deep (and shallow) recesses of my mind are filled with images of frogs, big ones, huge ones, small ones, tiny ones, ones with too little thyroxine and ones with too much.


In any case, I feel like a frog with a severe case of thyroid-gland-gone-wrong.

Another instance of my synaesthesia (not bad, I learnt a new tongue-twisting-profound-sounding (Joke xD) syndrome from Magaret Atwood)

‘Since hormones help to control and coordinate the body, their production must be carefully controlled to prevent disastrous results. For example, if too little thyroxine is produced in a tadpole, it cannot grow into an adult frog. If too much thyroxine is produced, metamorphosis (a change to adult form) is speeded up, resulting in a very tiny frog.

I feel like a tiny frog with all the anatomical structures of an adult frog. The whole of one’s life crammed into a matter of years.

Please tell me that my life is shortened as a result, please please please.

“I wish I may, I wish I might, I wish I would have the wish I wish tonight”