Tuesday, April 12
finally i know what it is that ails me so, that sickens me to such a great extent monthly and worsens my condition, such that brain-suffocating migraines are a daily occurance. it's not just that i'm allergic to hwachong. i'm also suffering from withdrawal symptoms.. from 4e6 '04.
nothing against my classmates, in general. nothing against the school, i guess, since my claim that it's red is often rebutted by pointing out that it's really brown. what the bleep, who said i care any more for the dull colour brown? i'm anti-communist, but i guess the school practices democracy to a certain extent. it's cheena, but which jc besides the supposedly oh-so-cold rj isn't? it's near st. marg's. big plus point. near home too. even bigger plus point. let's not go into negatives.
but nothing can ever beat 4/6. even if my new class were relatively okay, it still wouldn't feel the same. something in me holds me back from asking favours, from reaching out to them. i don't want intrude into other people's private space. currently taking a break from highlighting econs notes for the test tmr. there were so many classmates. i could have asked anyone to tell me what goes into the blanks i didn't fill in during lecture. but i picked up the phone and called jan from memory. odd, isn't it, how some things never fade. i remember all of yours'. years of practice, i guess. and the odd thing is, no matter how busy jan was or could have been, i knew she genuinely didn't mind helping me.. she didn't even feel impatient or tried to hurry me when i wrote so slowly and was apparently hard of hearing. =) thanks so much, jan.
3/4 way through jane eyre. it makes me want to cry and die by parts. sigh. and not just because it's so thick it took me the whole morning and afternoon to get that far. sigh. i wish i could write like charlotte bronte. and the conversations she has with mr rochester! how odd it is, that the style should be so familiar. they remind of how things used to be, between myself and someone else. maybe more than just one person. but ah. wit is a word often used carelessly by people. but what, exactly, is wit? and why do people long so much to attain it, to use it? i love witty people. but i can't define wit, or at least not now. i guess i know wit when i see it.
it must've been love.
9:40 pm
xoxo
