Isn't it nice to smile at someone, just because? It's strange to think how this stretching of the lips, this baring of teeth, this contraction of cheek muscles can mean so much.
Well, finished that book "1984". I couldn't put it down. I'm onto a new one which is also very good- called "Of Mice and Men" by John Steinbeck. I love the imagery. It's true, you know, what the teacher's say. A reader is just as much a part in the journey of the story as the author. You have to commit yourself if you want to get the full 'juice' out of the book. There shouldn't be such thing as half hearted reading, i've realised. I've been doing that lately, letting my imagination go to rust. Reading the words and not seeing them. Isn't it just amazing how these detailed images can be fabricated in the minds eyes through type on a page? I'm sorry, i'm just fascinated by everything at the moment. I'm so glad that fascination doesn't decrease with age. There is always something new, something to be learned, something to wonder at. Brilliant, eh? I just wish these fascinating things weren't force fed to us, because it just seems to be a natural instinct to choke on them, and want to spit them out.
ah, i have countless little axioms on the peevish nature of learning don't I?
God, there is something so admirable about Oscar Wilde. He's such an arrogant bastard, but i can't help but smile when i read him. He is the wittiest of the witty, and he knows it. I really should get around to reading a novel or play of his...
I was rather stupid yesterday. Well, at least, i can articulate this moment of stupidity. You see, i looked down at this keyboard and was horrified. White particles lined the crevies between e and r and i and o and every other letter. A sea of cells, which plunged over the canyon to fester spitefully. So, on a brainless urge, i took up the keyboard and started banging it on the desk. I could actually see the particles floating down. I swept the grime off onto the carpet (hey, it's a light color, no one would notice) and proceeded bashing the thing with a renewed vigour, born of a curious mix of fascination and disgust. Then...
"Kate! Kate! What ARE you doing??"
"um...it was dirty" i stammered.
"You DON'T do that! You could break the thing! And when the computer's running too!"
I squirmed with humiliation in my seat. oops. Even after that loud episode i was still caught by the desire to continue bashing the damn thing. I'm like one of those people, who, once they find a loose thread on their jumper, can't resist in pulling it until i haven't a thread left on me. Bubblewrap, too. Give me some bubblewrap and i'll pop those little buggers until there isn't an air pocket left. Meaningless, brainless tasks take up so much of my time.
Oh! Have you recently visited www.freerice.com ? The site's upgraded! There's all these new sections! Like geography and languages and grammar and art! cool eh? I now know that Montevideo is the capital of Uruguay. Yeah yeah, i know you already knew that, you geographically endowed freak.
gotta go, Margaret and David are on!!!!! They're so cool!!!
20080831
20080830
well well. Long time, no write. Haha, no that doesn't work.
Don't you get exhausted with the unremittent demand imposed by school authoritarians (i.e. teachers) to think intelligently? I swear, their indirect yet undying influence has permeated every aspect of personal life. Every time I find myself incapable of interpretting a situation or sentence, or am unable to decrypt a certain section of a random poem or whatever, my breath kind of catches halfway down my chest. It's ridiculous. The pressure to live up to the impossible idyllic student compresses me in a tiny cube. But then i shouldn't do that, i shouldn't blame them. Haha, how i scapegoat them! They are the culprits to all of the average teens predicaments, that's right. *kate laughs dryly*
And so, half of me loves learning and the other half despises it. We have an odd relationship. I wonder if learning loves me? I very much doubt it, as the information i try to embrace continuously detangles itself from my grasp and slinks away into a nebulous corner.
I'm reading a rather engaging book at the moment, called '1948'. Or is it 1942? let me check. Nope, its neither, HAHA. Let me start again.
Currently I am engaged in reading a rather fascinating novel by George Orwell, titled 1984. This science fiction work is where the concept of 'Big Bother' was founded. I've spent about ten minutes trying to explain what it's about, but it's so complicated and the ideas are so ornate and brilliantly conceived that i have neither the talent nor the patience to convey them. Brief overview: Basically, it's set in a world where the common populace is constantly watched. The slightest sign of unorthodoxy means that you are exterminated, removed, the evidence for your very existence destroyed. In fact, the past becomes obsolete, because the government is continuously changing it; a whole department devoted to adjusting newspapers and other media so frequently that an entire civilizations history disintegrates.
blah blah. i suck at writing.
We've finally moved past reproduction in biology, and we're on to growth and development. Past terminologies which just brand themselves to the front of your mind all day like 'gonads' and 'copulation' and 'hermaphrodite snails lie side by side, joined by a layer of mucous and exchange sperm to achieve cross fertilisation'. The imagery i could do without. haha, it's funny though, its so good how our biol teacher makes us crack up. How horrible would it be if you had a really serious teacher in something like that! God awful.
blimey, it's dark outside! how the hell did that happen? last time i looked, it was four. Now it's six thirty. dang.
ohhhhhhh. To indulge in a movie! To submit myself to its comforting cocoon of flashing images and stimulating sounds! If only, my dear.
quite comlaining kate. God, there's more to life...
To fly....."if only, if only, the woodpecker sighed."
oh, sammie :( I'm sorry, i didn't help a bit.
Don't you get exhausted with the unremittent demand imposed by school authoritarians (i.e. teachers) to think intelligently? I swear, their indirect yet undying influence has permeated every aspect of personal life. Every time I find myself incapable of interpretting a situation or sentence, or am unable to decrypt a certain section of a random poem or whatever, my breath kind of catches halfway down my chest. It's ridiculous. The pressure to live up to the impossible idyllic student compresses me in a tiny cube. But then i shouldn't do that, i shouldn't blame them. Haha, how i scapegoat them! They are the culprits to all of the average teens predicaments, that's right. *kate laughs dryly*
And so, half of me loves learning and the other half despises it. We have an odd relationship. I wonder if learning loves me? I very much doubt it, as the information i try to embrace continuously detangles itself from my grasp and slinks away into a nebulous corner.
I'm reading a rather engaging book at the moment, called '1948'. Or is it 1942? let me check. Nope, its neither, HAHA. Let me start again.
Currently I am engaged in reading a rather fascinating novel by George Orwell, titled 1984. This science fiction work is where the concept of 'Big Bother' was founded. I've spent about ten minutes trying to explain what it's about, but it's so complicated and the ideas are so ornate and brilliantly conceived that i have neither the talent nor the patience to convey them. Brief overview: Basically, it's set in a world where the common populace is constantly watched. The slightest sign of unorthodoxy means that you are exterminated, removed, the evidence for your very existence destroyed. In fact, the past becomes obsolete, because the government is continuously changing it; a whole department devoted to adjusting newspapers and other media so frequently that an entire civilizations history disintegrates.
blah blah. i suck at writing.
We've finally moved past reproduction in biology, and we're on to growth and development. Past terminologies which just brand themselves to the front of your mind all day like 'gonads' and 'copulation' and 'hermaphrodite snails lie side by side, joined by a layer of mucous and exchange sperm to achieve cross fertilisation'. The imagery i could do without. haha, it's funny though, its so good how our biol teacher makes us crack up. How horrible would it be if you had a really serious teacher in something like that! God awful.
blimey, it's dark outside! how the hell did that happen? last time i looked, it was four. Now it's six thirty. dang.
ohhhhhhh. To indulge in a movie! To submit myself to its comforting cocoon of flashing images and stimulating sounds! If only, my dear.
quite comlaining kate. God, there's more to life...
To fly....."if only, if only, the woodpecker sighed."
oh, sammie :( I'm sorry, i didn't help a bit.
20080825
Monday Night: the long weekend is coming to a close. Wow, i've been even more wasteful than usual. Homework was too intimidating, so I spent the grand majority of my hours pressing the 'b' button on my gameboy to kill evil beasties on "The Legend of Zora".
Do you think the Beijing Olympics was successful? Apart from the cloud of concern to do with Human Rights and the environmental aspect, I think they pulled it off rather nicely. London has a lot to live up to. It's kind of sad isn't it? How every time the games has to be bigger and better (and therefore more expensive) than the last. We need competition to boost our own expectations and propel us to new heights, but it gets a bit much, don't it?
I'm a little surprised Obama didn't choose Clinton to be his running partner. Perhaps he will regret it later too- he'd snag a greater percentage of the women's votes if he opted for her. Though I guess it's not supposed to about that. My mum thinks he avoided her because he wanted to distance himself from Bill Clinton. Apparently the two don't really get on. Ah, the nitty gritty dynamics of politics. Based more on the personality of the figurehead than party policy. Nazi Germany showed us that- people swept away by the force of Hitler as a person, with the Nazi's programme accepted through him. Sad, innit? It's amazing how gullible we can all be, how vulnerable, under the right (i.e. wrong) conditions.
Mum's just read my short story (i know, you must be so sick of this topic). Admittedly, her response wasn't as bad as last time...but the only thing she said was
"mm, yeah, i've found some problems here and here and here". A promising verdict. Couldn't she have the decency to play the mother's role and lie for god's sake? You know, just a little lie. Even a nod and a smile would suffice to save my ego from getting pummelled to a pulp.
Ah, failure.
noooooo, the printer's run out of ink.
Add to your 'To Read' List:
1. The Amulet of Sakarand
2. The Golem's Eye
3. A Long way Gone
4. A Spot of Bother
5. The Kite Runner
Well, i'm off (like a piece of cheese, my parents would say. how lame).
QUOTE OF THE DAY: (Mrs Dalloway exert, Virginia Woolf. Believe it or not, that's a single sentence.)
And everywhere, though it was still so early, there was a beating, a stirring of galloping ponies, tapping of cricket bats; Lords, Ascot, Ranelagh and all the rest of it; wrapped in the soft mesh of the grey-blue morning air, which, as the day wore on, would unwind them, and set down on their lawns and pitches the bouncing ponies, whose forefeet just struck the ground and up they sprung, the whirling young men, and laughing girls in their transparent muslins who, even now, after dancing all night, were taking their absurd woolly dogs for a run; and even now, at this hour, discreet old dowagers were shooting out in their motor cars on errands of mystery; and the shopkeepers were fidgeting in their windows with their paste and diamonds, their lovely old sea-green brooches in eighteenth-century settings to tempt Americans (but one must economise, not buy things rashly for Elizabeth), and she, too, loving it as she did with an absurd and faithful passion, being part of it, since her people were courtiers once in the time of the Georges, she, too, was going that very night to kindle and illuminate; to give her party.
Do you think the Beijing Olympics was successful? Apart from the cloud of concern to do with Human Rights and the environmental aspect, I think they pulled it off rather nicely. London has a lot to live up to. It's kind of sad isn't it? How every time the games has to be bigger and better (and therefore more expensive) than the last. We need competition to boost our own expectations and propel us to new heights, but it gets a bit much, don't it?
I'm a little surprised Obama didn't choose Clinton to be his running partner. Perhaps he will regret it later too- he'd snag a greater percentage of the women's votes if he opted for her. Though I guess it's not supposed to about that. My mum thinks he avoided her because he wanted to distance himself from Bill Clinton. Apparently the two don't really get on. Ah, the nitty gritty dynamics of politics. Based more on the personality of the figurehead than party policy. Nazi Germany showed us that- people swept away by the force of Hitler as a person, with the Nazi's programme accepted through him. Sad, innit? It's amazing how gullible we can all be, how vulnerable, under the right (i.e. wrong) conditions.
Mum's just read my short story (i know, you must be so sick of this topic). Admittedly, her response wasn't as bad as last time...but the only thing she said was
"mm, yeah, i've found some problems here and here and here". A promising verdict. Couldn't she have the decency to play the mother's role and lie for god's sake? You know, just a little lie. Even a nod and a smile would suffice to save my ego from getting pummelled to a pulp.
Ah, failure.
noooooo, the printer's run out of ink.
Add to your 'To Read' List:
1. The Amulet of Sakarand
2. The Golem's Eye
3. A Long way Gone
4. A Spot of Bother
5. The Kite Runner
Well, i'm off (like a piece of cheese, my parents would say. how lame).
QUOTE OF THE DAY: (Mrs Dalloway exert, Virginia Woolf. Believe it or not, that's a single sentence.)
And everywhere, though it was still so early, there was a beating, a stirring of galloping ponies, tapping of cricket bats; Lords, Ascot, Ranelagh and all the rest of it; wrapped in the soft mesh of the grey-blue morning air, which, as the day wore on, would unwind them, and set down on their lawns and pitches the bouncing ponies, whose forefeet just struck the ground and up they sprung, the whirling young men, and laughing girls in their transparent muslins who, even now, after dancing all night, were taking their absurd woolly dogs for a run; and even now, at this hour, discreet old dowagers were shooting out in their motor cars on errands of mystery; and the shopkeepers were fidgeting in their windows with their paste and diamonds, their lovely old sea-green brooches in eighteenth-century settings to tempt Americans (but one must economise, not buy things rashly for Elizabeth), and she, too, loving it as she did with an absurd and faithful passion, being part of it, since her people were courtiers once in the time of the Georges, she, too, was going that very night to kindle and illuminate; to give her party.
20080811
i'm so screwed. Short story is due next week. I asked my mum to go over what i'd started last night...her response:
long, awkward pause. Hesitantly: "did you say you had another story idea?"
Ouch. My ego took a fair bruising from that one. I probably needed it though. It was incredibly boring and stupid and highfaluting and....well just shit. I didn't think it was that shit though. Especially 'ouch' because i was writing in my preferred writing style: i.e. totally bohemian and weird. Maybe i was being lazy. Maybe i was kidding myself that i can write. argh goddammit.
So now i'm stuck. I haven't written a word. Not a single word. Whenever i think about it, i get a fluttery feeling that makes me want to go and puke somewhere. I know it sounds crazy, but i'd really rather write an essay instead. God, what has lit done to me? where is my imagination?
I'm in the library right now, using a lap-top. Sitting at a desk in the reference section by my lonesome haha. I forgot my bus money. Nice one kate. My mobile also ran out of battery while i was telling mum, so i don't really know when and where dad is picking me up. I assume sometime after 5:30. great. looking forward to an eventful evening.
Euna, Kristine and Philipa's japanese exchange students came today. ahhhh, forget their names. how observant of me. they seem nice- or at least, so i gleaned before i removed myself to the library.
long, awkward pause. Hesitantly: "did you say you had another story idea?"
Ouch. My ego took a fair bruising from that one. I probably needed it though. It was incredibly boring and stupid and highfaluting and....well just shit. I didn't think it was that shit though. Especially 'ouch' because i was writing in my preferred writing style: i.e. totally bohemian and weird. Maybe i was being lazy. Maybe i was kidding myself that i can write. argh goddammit.
So now i'm stuck. I haven't written a word. Not a single word. Whenever i think about it, i get a fluttery feeling that makes me want to go and puke somewhere. I know it sounds crazy, but i'd really rather write an essay instead. God, what has lit done to me? where is my imagination?
I'm in the library right now, using a lap-top. Sitting at a desk in the reference section by my lonesome haha. I forgot my bus money. Nice one kate. My mobile also ran out of battery while i was telling mum, so i don't really know when and where dad is picking me up. I assume sometime after 5:30. great. looking forward to an eventful evening.
Euna, Kristine and Philipa's japanese exchange students came today. ahhhh, forget their names. how observant of me. they seem nice- or at least, so i gleaned before i removed myself to the library.
20080804
My eyeballs are drying out from sitting too close to the heater. Should i switch it off?
For:
1. it contributes to green house gases
2. it weighs down the envelope in the mail containing bills
3. as stated, tis drying out my eyeballs
Against:
1. i'm cold
2. i'm lazy
3. i'm too planet-inconsiderate to care at the moment
4. my eyeballs can take it
well well, it looks like we have a winner. The heater stays on.
hahhhhh. I have thus far done no homework. *GROAN* can't wait til, til, til.....god, the way i'm going, i'll finish that sentence with 'the end of my life'. We spend our lives endlessly waiting.
Jasmine and Sophie's birthday today! hope they had a good one. Because of my mum's fracture, they're driving me to school on some days. So nice of their mum to go out of her way- i feel a little guilty. 'specially since petrol is so expensive nowadays. I feel like i should be paying a fare or something.
well, that's it for today. Cannot seem to pump any cocaine into this post to make it high, exciting or even a good excuse to pass the time.
QUOTE OF THE DAY:
"When a man tells you that he got rich through hard work, ask him: 'Whose ?' "- Don Marquis .
For:
1. it contributes to green house gases
2. it weighs down the envelope in the mail containing bills
3. as stated, tis drying out my eyeballs
Against:
1. i'm cold
2. i'm lazy
3. i'm too planet-inconsiderate to care at the moment
4. my eyeballs can take it
well well, it looks like we have a winner. The heater stays on.
hahhhhh. I have thus far done no homework. *GROAN* can't wait til, til, til.....god, the way i'm going, i'll finish that sentence with 'the end of my life'. We spend our lives endlessly waiting.
Jasmine and Sophie's birthday today! hope they had a good one. Because of my mum's fracture, they're driving me to school on some days. So nice of their mum to go out of her way- i feel a little guilty. 'specially since petrol is so expensive nowadays. I feel like i should be paying a fare or something.
well, that's it for today. Cannot seem to pump any cocaine into this post to make it high, exciting or even a good excuse to pass the time.
QUOTE OF THE DAY:
"When a man tells you that he got rich through hard work, ask him: 'Whose ?' "- Don Marquis .
20080803
Defiance is welling up in me for no reason whatsoever. I've just finished my history essay on Hitler henchman, Heinrich Himmler. Head of Nazi State Police and supervisor of the concentration camp system, it was pretty hard writing an 'empathy essay' on him. I struggled through it though. I was a bit stuck when it came to the conclusion- i have a chronic difficulty of wrapping up a point- mostly because i forget what exactly i was trying to prove. anyhoo, i finally came up with the end line- "himmler may have been a monster, but he was a creature shaped of circumstance- as we all are." I asked me ma to edit the paper. God did she baulk when she read that sentence. No, no, she kept saying sharply. I felt a little rebuffed. I actually believed in what i said. i reckon we are creatures of circumstance. i could've been a murderer...It's only circumstance- my lifes series of events- that makes me who i am. Obviously, she disagrees. maybe i'm an idiot. what i said probably doesn't make sense. i dunno. yeah, i'd better resign myself to the idiot status. Cause if i am one, i'd rather know. I'd rather not run the risk of being ignorant of my ignorance. oh great, she just walked in and harangued me for not doing my share of the household chores. "you're doing the washing up tomorrow. not happy." i mean, she does have a valid point there, i haven't been doing as much as i should (god it's hard to be unbiased when i'm irritated) but the atmosphere was so warm earlier on. damn.
yeah, i'm probably wrong. (she says the next morning)
yeah, i'm probably wrong. (she says the next morning)
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