Wednesday, August 08, 2007  11:34 PM
The petulant 'I hate School' post
The last three days have been an insightful reminder of what the rest of the semester is going to look like. I have gone through practically every emotion in the last seventy-two hours, and it has not been a very fun rollercoaster ride.
Anticipationexcitementbitchinessenvydepressionjealousyconfusionhappinessuncertaintystressworryfatigue boredomrestlessnesstirednessrepression
Except it doesn't end with exhilarated screams and a candid shot of yourself at the photo store where your mouth is opened in the most unglamourous fashion and your hair looking like Medusa.
I have also contentedly let myself forget what studying in Singapore feels like. The dread, the piling up workload, the doom that lies ahead with each detailed explanation of every new assignment and the helplessness of it all. My classes in Hong Kong suddenly feel like a breezy walk in the park, and I wonder now why I even complained about Godfrey's lengthy Cantonese lessons where I barely learnt anything new, or Isaac Leung's biased digital art class. At least Godfrey treated us to breakfast during his "extended" break and I was on MSN most of the time during Isaac's lecture. And with Jings to bitch about Iona Milligan with, and play battleship with throughout Mike's communication management class, school was actually fun.
Not to mention trips down to Festival Walk during breaks where I would just float into French Connection or MNG for that boost of energy.
I wonder why I let myself think that even now. No more of that, back to photojournalism class where I feel disastrously incompetent, and my brain working overtime to answer Duffy's countless 'why' questions during Public Affairs Reporting.
This is why I feel like screaming at every exchange student who chooses NTU Communication Studies as their school of exchange. I study there because I have no choice. They have choices. Exchange is supposed to be about all play and no work, which was why mine was so rewarding.
Third year in journalism doesn't sound as appealing as I had made it out to be when I was seventeen and all I wanted was to get into journalism school. Without a doubt, I will learn alot from my writing classes, but the headache of matching electives and timetabling is getting to me and making me snappier than usual. Nothing I want fits. And this semester, I lose half my favourite people to other specialisations which means less friends in class, or a concerted effort in being overly friendly to strangers.
The rollercoaster of emotions is speeding through me again, ending with extreme fatigue, worry with regard to next semester's internship and dull depression. Lack of sleep really makes me a totally different person, the trigger-happiness flies out of the window immediately.
I've spent six hours in the ACRC in the last three days, in the first week of school. I don't need a crystal ball to tell me what kind of life I'm going to be leading in the next four months.
1 comment(s). Your thoughts?
Thursday, August 02, 2007 8:18 PM
Simple love, minus luxe bag
I don't really know what to write about these days. The cacophony outside my window which reflects typical city-living, the tantalizingly delicious food I've been eating these days coupled with lovely company such that a dinner at Miss Clarity's suddenly proves disastrous, the pessimistic fate of my Harper's Bazaar internship or my gradually sinking heart as I count down the days that would end this eight-month dream.
Well, I could still write about Korea and CM 2007, the last of my Hong Kong exchange programme, or my twenty-first birthday whose photographs no one except those present on that day has seen. Blame it on my utter laziness and the headache that seems to mount each time I have to choose pictures to upload. Every uploading device should be like Facebook's - folders in - ziiiiipppp - one minute.
Or I could write about what I feel at this very moment, which will result in a convulated post which no one but myself will truly understand. I feel and think too much, and I'm complicated. The down-syndrome child talk we had at four in the morning yesterday got to me, some think they are hard to love, and will suffer their whole life, which warrants an immediate abortion. I think they deserve to be loved, because like other human beings, they will embrace life around them. I believe you never know how the down-syndrome child is and will turn out to be - the argument about them suffering and being looked down upon by society is simply a myth we choose to use to comfort ourselves because we do not want to be burdened with the responsiblity of taking care of one. I feel that they could be happy in their own right, doing things that their minds are capable of, even if it means playing with Lego or running around playgrounds all their lives. And why should we then take away this happiness that belongs to them?
I think my point is this - it is a joy to be simple. It is a beautiful world bereft of complications, malificence and wrenching tears. But first we all have to get over that shame yet.
I dislike the rich and the society they belong to, especially when it means they stick to their own echelons and uppity ways. Wealth and having too much can only bring out sides of people I wish I'd never had the chance to see. It destroys hearts, and I think it ultimately rips people of learning to love.
What is in that branded bag, luxurious house or fancy convertible? Everyone wants one, but give me a simple and pure heart to love, to laugh and to embrace those around me any day.
2 comment(s). Your thoughts?
|
|
