Everything I write seems excessively self-important.

Who do you think you are?

Applied Drama essay blues.

Why do people know so specifically, what they want and want to do?

Validation and Verification. Please direct me to the respective counters. a

Poesis is still not poetry, similarly I'm neither here nor there.

My muse hates me.

That is if, I have one.

My essay's still on the fricking assembly line.

Listen to me groan and lick my wounds.

It's amazing how much one essay can do to me, simply because I have no idea or indication on how to do well enough for this. Pathetica me is drowning in the quicksand. My demons make sure I go down with em'.

If, so you say, procrastination is fear masked in laziness, then apparently I've lived a lot of my life in quiet despair and disrepair.

I suppose, this is exchanging your dreams for plans.


It's the same grinding feeling that eats away at your stomach. Same feeling I've gotten after the improv test. The uncertain is at odds with me. Between being called and dealt the punishment, it is the part where you walk towards your disciplinarian in apprehension and clenched fists that really sucks all life out of you.

I'm not the lakeside girl. (clearly I don't write as well, she kicks my arse real good: http://lakeside-girl.blogspot.com/)

I'm Corny.

I suppose, this is what Corny, not officially 17, half-washed writer in training, will have to deal with and this is how she is going to express it.

Thrown into a bewildering world, slippery as quicksilver. Not quite the most eventful life, not the brightest banana, quirkier than ever, still singing the same melacholic songs.

I feel like masticated bubble gum, coated with saliva, flavourless and discarded with a ph-tooi! on the sidewalk, only to ruin someone's day when they step on my sticky, parasitic form.

C'mon. Don't deny that. Shit happens, and when I get stressed up, people can't stand it. For today, I believe I've finally found the analogy to describe that.

If anything, people will just tell you off for stressing them out when you're on an episodic release of neurosis.

On the bright side, (silver lining!!!) your true friends, loved ones will be the one to watch you in silence, let you be and then offer you some ice cream.

Good to know I've found mine.

Screwed up as I might be, a remnant of the train wreck from almost a year ago, I'm amazed I've still got the same few people (and potential ones) standing by me. It is inevitable that I would come to love you people.

It's not egoistic to know it in your heart that I do, so let me inflate your ego like helium, for I won't do so when I'm pretending to be sane.

Milk. Eggs. Cookies.

Check.

That was the last of the groceries on her mental checklist. Aimlessly traipsing through the aisles of marmalades and toddlers with unsteady gaits, another lazy Sunday afternoon slipped away.

Bump!

Annoyance and a bit lip. She turned around hastily. There went a portly queen. One without a crown.

"She didn't even say sorry,".

Flab rubbed against thigh, unwillingly consumed in black tights, as the fleshy posterior and overblown hair made her an everyday caricature.

Today, she didn't feel beautiful.

Not that anyone has made her feel that way recently. As much as she pondered about life more often than others, recently it has let her down, for it was as mundane as the shelves of canned sardines.

Ayam Brand. Extra Chilli. Mild.

No, life doesn't come with extra chilli. It would do nothing to force down the bitter medicine that is life, as one discovers moments of melancholy or apathy. No spoonful of sugar will ease the passage.

In the most unexpected of places, life takes an affecting turn. It was today that she would learn that explicitly.

Around the corner, she turns into another aisle.

"Hi, excuse me?"

A handsome, albeit quirky stranger in pink holds out a daisy. How did he know those were her favourite flowers? She stared at the delicate white petals, fluffy and fresh. Like a clean break from an unwashed day. Her spirits lifted, as though heaven pressed the right buttons.

"A flower for you, Miss?"

Or was he handsome only because he offered her a daisy? Was it one of those moments that made life so surreal? She held her breath. The thoughtfulness of a stranger to go out of the way to make her day? Finding love in a supermarket, like a shining pearl in a dull oyster?

She smiled, the first in hours.

Life in drab was given a makeover with colours from Van Gogh's palette.

Why would he do it? Who cares why? It was beautiful all the same.

It was just a pity the daisy wasn't an orange one...

"Yes Miss. Our line of pantyliners has just changed the packaging and we are holding a promotion this week. Here's a voucher for you."

He shoves a piece of glossy coupon into her hand before she can decline.

It said,

"Looking in your extra zing in your life? Find the comfort and confidence in ______ Pantyliners today! Pantyliners softer than daisies, comfort guaranteed. For daily use. Antibacterial. 50 per pack."

She blinked at the salesman.

Taking a moment to register the situation, she nodded. Yes, a man promoting ladies' necessities.

Well, she couldn't deny it was the first time she had seen a stranger passing out flowers instead of pamphlets.

It was still advertising, but it was also a quirky surprise. One that made her walk on with something to chuckle about. With every cloud, there is a silver lining. She crossed her fingers, knowing that the day where she will witness a rainbow behind a cloud is not far away.

The daisy went on top of the cookies.


**********

Inspired by Cassandra's uh, cute encounter. ;) http://loving-abhorration.blogspot.com/2009/06/in-midst-of-hullabaloo.html The way I see it, sticking to the situation as much as possible.

Hope this post cheers up the holidays-ending blues, and the fact that MOE'S not gonna extend our holidays on the pretext of H1N1 communal transmissions.

The glory of life reveals itself little by little, so watch out for the next one.

For some reason, her post reminds me of Lily Allen's vid for LDN: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmYT79tPvLg

Where have I been? Good question.

With my Lord, of course.

Will update on church camp after a many a sleeping hour, for now, I'll content myself looking at my wallpaper - a picture from camp, taken by John. Jasmine's so bubbly, it looks as if her cheeks are stuffed with pistachios (kai xin guo) and Samuel's looking like, uh. Samuel.

Now I spell out my meditation. (See, I've been doing my homework)

If there's anything the Bible does outstandingly, it is the imagery presented and how it challenges all conventions of the world, even today's. Oh what book dares to claim such greatness? Only one of God's Word.

Knowing that in the time of my absence in camp (and much meditation, nursing and slacking thereafter), the Poly mates have been running around in their little lives, it almost seems amusing to me. It appears to me that I'm the only one standing so still. If some were in my shoes, they'd make me get off my ass to busy myself with something, if anything at all. Or sleep for more than half the day away.

In a position where one would kneel at the feet of Jesus to listen, and honestly, it's rather enjoyable. The conflict of Martha and Mary anyone?

It's the pace of the world, or at least this part of the world, to keep running and relaxing comes only once in a while. No wonder so many of us lose ourselves in all that activity. What is the point of forgetting, then remembering, wiping a stray tear away, then back to the process of forgetting until it all simmers to a cool and the forgotten.

God is weird. I just don't get Him at times. He slows me down in a time when everyone's rushing to somewhere. The next meeting, getting projects done, studying, Singapore Idol (if you're lucky), SPX (which happened when I was at camp), camps, National Day, volunteer work, CASS, ccas, and side projects. Go go go on our feet. I've never slowed down like this before.

It's as if there's a million and one things I ought to be doing (the culture gets to you), but He's telling me that He will provide and there will be a time for all that, and time happens to be a provision that will be aplenty if He wills it.

I can't help but feel I'm being tuned to seek first the Word of God before doing anything. No more rash descisions. No point getting frustrated with things you have to decide on. Patience, makes me think of how much of this I've lacked. Running amok in the wrong direction didn't get my anywhere, well, duh.

His Word is harder than diamond, yet more flexible than gum. Laws written in His best interest for us.

Haha, I've received my due punishment for wilfulness and it is now a time of training. Training to listen (that means shutting up) and communicating with God to make the best possible descisions for my life. Thanks for putting me out of my misery. So much energy gone to naught is an upsetting thought anyway.

In my belief, His Word is infallible. Think of it as insurance beyond all policies, one that would come to fear, obey, respect, love and understand. Tis' no time to argue with the non-believers. That'll be addressed sooner or later.

Sometimes, people turn away from the Word because at the end of the day, they've got no time for the Lord, or they're just afraid to surrender whatever they've made of their life to something intangible.

Understandable. I persecute no one.

Okay back to the topic. Thinking of Mary and Martha, I suppose I needed to be kicked out of the Martha mode. Eventually it just got too tiring anyway. Mary was a servant of God the way it was supposed to be. Spiritually, it's a matter of who our master is, innit?

Again maybe that's why. Non-believers have been stripped of trust, simply because it is in a way, a practical form of survival instinct in play. Just goes to show I don't talk without understanding what it's like.

As for who the true master is, everyone's lives are written down already. This line is open to interpretation. There's more to this sentence than meets the eye, more than what our minds can already perceive.

I won't ever want another master. No addictions for me. Maybe that's why a part of me spoke out so strongly against a friend wanting alcohol to cope with a crisis. I never understood why, and part of me took it as a having a personal thing against that, something that your conscience cannot allow. Might've made me sound like a prude, but my mind is made up. I now know why.

The seed was planted when I was 7 (after which another one had to be planted, or was it the same?) Unknowingly, I'd opened up myself and everything I didn't understand to the Lord. Kids do the darndest things.

Who would've known. 9 years would pass and for some reason, I'd never go far beyond where my conscience would allow...

Sit at His feet today. Let wisdom beyond all the comprehension you've been in touch with bless you.

If you're reading this today and made it this far, you've got some kickass attention span to listen to such meditation.

I can barely wait for Shakira's new single... let alone her album.

*breathes* That's okay... good things are worth waiting for... especially for time periods like say, 4 years... I'll be okay...

Hmm, apparently that anxiousness translated to some... extra informacion personal on my Spanish test. I wonder what Antonio would say.

Short write-up on some personal information... name, nationality, languages, home phone, mobile phone number, address, profession, email etc.

Yo me llamo Constance Lim, soy Singapurense. Hablo ingles, chino y un poco espanol, soy estudiante, estudio Teatro y Psicologia. (closest I can find for Applied Drama and Psychology, here it is Theatre and Psychology)

So far so good....

Until Spanish started taking the form of English.

Mi direccion es ... calle ... bloque ... #...

Mi numero de telefono es 6*******, telefono movil es 8*******.

Mi correo electronico es ... @hotmail.com.


Just takes a little concentration and common sense to figure this out.

I wonder how I'll fare. Tsk. I wonder what my classmates wrote. Let's just say everyone was really unprepared.

I still can't believe I wrote something for the "Etc." part of the question.

Me gusta musica latina, porque Shakira es la mejor cantante.

(very rudimentary Spanish, but you have to start somewhere, right? besides, it is personal information... made public)

So... if we were to go with the direct translation, it would be "I like latin music, because Shakira is the best singer"

Praise the Lord! I've mastered a very small portion of the vast language!

Am really starting to love Spanish class beyond Spanish itself. At least the people I sit near to ;)

Oh gosh I think we're so gonna remember each other for freezing in Spanish class, laughing at our incompetence in catching the voice recordings, laughing at each other, trying to help each other out and usually ending up nowhere and getting scolded by Antonio for not asking him in the first place, watch each other get sleepy (class is in the evening), making the most noise in class, then ranting after class and getting to know more about other schools in SP.

Lovely even distribution, we've got people from every school.

Sucks to think we'd only be seeing each other for 2 sems.

Oh well...


English is somehow identical to Spanish. It's strange how I love English as a language, but sometimes all the rules just throw me off and I can't be bothered by the linguistical gymnastics, and I end up thinking "It's not gonna matter unless I actually study it in uni. End of story", yet at other random times, say a hot afternoon, I'd be pondering

"If I know today, what I had known yesterday..."

"If I had known today, what I knew yesterday..."

"If I knew today, what I have known yesterday..."

Shit, I can't remember the right combination. So tell me, if you've read the book and have a photographic memory or happen to have a stronger basis in grammar than I do.


Okay, so English is like having a usual pb and j sandwich, but Spanish is like having it with the condiments on the outside.

Very foreign and exotic, well duh.

It's exciting to get your fingers sticky, but at other times it's frustrating.

For example, por ejemplo,

English: What is the email address of The Sun?

Spanish: Que direccion de correo electronico tiene El Sol?

Direct translation: What email address it has The Sun?

See? (sans marks and upside-down question marks)

It is very tempting to write it as "Que tiene correo electronico de El Sol?"

It would probably confuse a Spanish speaker, just like how the direct translation makes us think of how foreigners are delightfully inadequate in the ways of English, you can actually tell there are quirks in their speech.

I don't have much longer to rely on direct translation.

On the other hand, I'm so glad all that time of listening to Shakira and noting the similarities between English and Spanish in her lyrics paid off. So yeah, I'm not entirely clueless. That's how I can roughly understand what Antonio's saying.


Some of us take Spanish for the practicality.

I just enjoy the language.

It's a world beyond mine, one that is possibly more romantic, passionate and dramatic. There's so much imagery so clearly expressed, that it'd sound corny in English, hence the poetry in my writing. It is influenced by something I don't exactly understand. I'm a stranger sitting tentatively in bated breath, on my host's couch.

Here I go again.

It is perhaps the most beautiful cultural clash I've experienced.

So until I'm trilingual, barely (it'd be Chinese that I'll be struggling with), I'd like to document this journey to the best of my ability.


As for students taking Spanish as a foreign language,

if you have the patience, this is for you:

http://desdecuba.com/generaciony/

and in ingles,

http://desdecuba.com/generationy/

With exposure, you'll get the hang of it. Afterall, it is identical to English.


Helps to learn through song too.

http://www.shakiramedia.com/video/detail/862

Estoy Aqui. That's where I learnt how to say "I'm here". So don't be lost when Antonio asks you if you know the song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x_oBpmiJ7tc&feature=related

Inevitable. With English translation, and a live performance. Listenable singers are those with the vocal chops. Preferably multi-talented too.

There will be words that we've already learnt.


Who would I see at the end of our 2 semesters?

identity-finder, half-thinker, thought-translater, life-pacer, adversary-fighter, grown-wiser, subtle-humour, nail-biter, indulgent-appreciator, pragmatic-dreamer, irony-murdered, unglamourous-puss, rocket-bunny

october 1st, sixteen, libran, singapore, tutor, christian, student, daughter, sister, friend, writer, artist, teenager, life, love

corny in a paradigm where sense and non sequiturs go together, taking it in like vanilla ice cream on a banana split, or sand on a boot. whichever goes.

Adelina Anjelica Cassandra Clarissa Daniel Esther E-von Geraldine Hairil HongWei Huiyi Jasmin Jasmine Jay Joseph Kenneth Marlyna Mythili Nadrah Samuel Sharon Sisi Shawn Stephanie Szeyuan Tivona YongQuan SHAKIRA Bare Feet JSS ELDDS

intricate-archiver

credit-or