So i'm sitting here right now, and i can hear little kids playing, and the loud, "Open numbers!".
I don't know, but it seems so long ago and a far off memory of when I was young and used to play like that too. It feels like I'm watching my own life as a third party. Through someone else's eyes.
The feeling? Detached, and with just a tinge of wistfulness.
I know how we always say life is short and how it just zooms past us when we're busy and so caught up in doing what we have to do. But when i think back on life so far, i really wonder what I've been doing.
Not that it's full and rubbish and totally unproductive, in fact, it might be the other way round. But productive in what sense? Which aspect of life is worth the input? Emotional? Social? Mental? To what extent is it considered satisfactory? What gauges how accomplished one is? Tangible, accountable successes? Spiritual, mental maturity? Or plainly just level of happiness one experiences throughout one's life? Then what is considered being happy? We're all different and so won't our standards about happiness be different? Then how can we say we are truly happy? Or, in other cases, not happy? Since we are the ones who determine our own level of self-development, life satisfaction and sanity, shouldn't we be allowed to choose exactly what we want to do? Where do parents come in then? Since they know almost all the procedures of life (don't they?) they can almost be trusted to make the best decisions for us, in all our best interests? What then, is the best? And to whom, is it the best? Whose interest is this in? Ours? Or theirs? But we might not make sound decisions for ourselves now; we're basically still learning, so we're still dependant on our parents. But after life as a teenager, then what? Do we go on to pursue what we truly want? How many people actually do that? How many poeple have the courage and determination to do that?
I remember that time when me and Xiaolin were having this math consultation with Mr Tony Lee. Then we were talking about cca overseas trip and when the computer club might be going for one. Xiaolin said, "i don't think I'll go la, look at yokecheng..." And Mr Lee said, yea maybe i shouldn't have gone, now my math is like cmi. I immediately flipped to this page in our handbook, with this quote ( yes i read the quotes, darling, what else does one do in lectures? jk!)
"For everything you miss you gain something else, for everything you gain you lose something else." -Ralph Waldo Emerson Then he was like chucking to himself. Hoho It's all worth it. I so do not regret going.
Her one motto she always stuck with was "Never let them see you cry." Why do sinners' ways prosper? And why must Disappointment all i endeavor end? Justus quidem tu es, Domine, si disputem tecum: verumtamen justa loquar ad te: Quare via imporium prosperatur? -Old Testament translated How different are your ways from mine. Entirely from the spheres of this world i regard. Your ways are not mine. And for this I hasten to distinct myself, for if I allow myself to sink into the gentle mists of depression I would thus lose myself and never come back. Pray, kindly move on. It is not in my nature to be straight-foward, thus, blunt in my speech unless forced by some power known only to Man to convey my deepest and innermost regrets. Leave, for I hereby renounce you for ever and ever. Who said they said he said all that they said he said?
Love is the name given to sorrow to console those who suffer. We suffer because we either desire what we have not or possess what we no longer desire.
Hope is just agony postponed.
-The Palace of Tears by Alev L. Croutier
Was I to follow entirely my own Inclinations it would be to travel, my first and chiefest wish. If i had a Compannion, it should be one that I very much lovd, and that very much lovd me, one that thought that it was not below a man of sense to take satisfaction in the conversation of a reasonable woman, one who did not think tenderness a disgrace to his understanding.
You know you see those funny and apparently emo posts?? Like the poem down there. Its something we have to analyse in lit class. We were discussing a poem today in class and i started to comment on these lines, "All this is ended." and "A width, a shining peace, under the night." And we interpreted it as this guy dying, or at least leaving himself or anything worldly behind blah blah and Mark was like, "Er, that's kinda morbid ya know." Lol then me and zhanyee said, what poem isn't morbid la. All the talk about death and the beauty of it. Or cursing people/government/yourself. Well, poets are emotional and seemingly full of pent up frustrations and angst. But i'm glad i take lit. I think. Me and renzhi still gotta finish a lit assignment tonight cos we missed so many lessons while away in italy! Lol our lit journal is so empty. Okay, correction. It is empty. A few phrases from our literature package for amusement and a few seconds of frivolity away from schoolwork. "My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong." - Stop All The Clocks by W.H.Auden "So if, my dear, there sometimes seem to be Old bridges breaking between you and me Never fear. We may let the scaffolds fall Confident that we have built our wall." -Scaffolding by Seamus Heaney "Crying a violin in a grave All the dead singing in the river" -In the Dark Violin of the Valley by Ted Hughes Alright i need to do my lit now. Ciao lovely uomos and donnas!