The eraser scratches the page thin. Probably best if I put something down. I can’t make a start, not a proper one anyway. This is a start, of sorts. I guess. I’ve been sitting here forever, scratching. Scratching and un-scratching. My eraser is half-gone. Half-empty, even. I’m not a pessimist, it’s just that you can’t have a half-full eraser. Once you’ve used it, it’s gone. I stare, muddled, at the question. I ponder the possibility of dying of graphite fumes - only to realise that I haven’t actually written enough to release even the tiniest amount of graphite into the air. Well, I have, really. Just no one can see it, not anymore. Eraser flakes like desiccated coconut litter my page. It looks like I’ve been eating lamingtons. But I haven’t been. The page is almost clean. Clean if you didn’t know what had happened there. A battle, of sorts. Between myself and, and myself, I guess. I suppose, really, if you want to care, it’s not like that at all. There’s me, and then there’s me. But that’s not really the point anymore, is it? Then what is the point? The point? The point is that I haven’t studied for this exam. I’ve got no-one to blame but myself, really. Or myself. But that’s not really an excuse. Not really. I guess. But it’s just so easy to fall into it. There’s nothing more simple. Except confusion. I do that well. I can’t decide on just one point of view. That’d be too boring by far. So I pick them all. Well, two at least. Not quite all, not by any means, but a few. Better than just one. That’s why I’m in this jam now, I figure. I should just decide. Pick one, and go with it until the end. That’s all they want. There is no right answer, just an answer will do. But that’s just it. That’s the point. The answer isn’t going to come easy. The answer will never be the truth. They say the truth hurts, but it doesn’t, really. How do you find it to begin with. That’s the bit that hurts. Deciding on what the truth is. There’s one truth I can see. We can see. There’s only five minutes left before I have to hand up my work. That’s not many, I guess. Not enough for me to write anything, let alone an essay. What if the answer is never the truth?