New Semester

is round the corner.

Procrastination. Sleep deprivation. Confusion. Crawling out of bed half an hour late. Running out of clean clothes to wear. Counting every cent of 'spare' change. Library marathons. Presentations. Papers. Funny lecturers. Mental lecturers. Funny roommates. Mental roommates. Supernatural marathons. Quick lunches in random stairwells. Middle-of-the-night explorations (but get back before curfew, dammit). Wardrobe malfunctions. Classroom air-condition malfunctions. Coffee. Coffee alone. Coffee with people. Coffee. Headaches. Last-minute assignments. Daydreaming.

Carpe diem (cliche, but true). Life's good :)

Changes

It was a morning just like any other before. Nothing had changed in the night. The ancient, semi-shrivelled, ductile yet solid old tree stood as it always stood – exhaling a breeze from its dappled brown-grey limbs, happily waving at time as it skipped by. The sun rose as it always rose. Nothing moved but everything stirred, singing their praises to the day but somehow oblivious to it as well; hidden things, invisible under an emerald blanket embroidered with gold. It was a morning just like any other.

And like every other morning before, in the house by the old tree, a creature was perched on a window sill. A creature that watched the world before her – her world – come alive and throw its face at the paintbrush that dripped golden sunlight everywhere. Everything greeted the light as if in defiance, yet also as if in offering of peace.

When the creature breathed, things from the bottom of her soul, sediment that she never even knew existed, would scatter out from her lips and settle in between the cracks in the ancient bark. Occasionally a green finger or two would brush her knee in a gesture that sometimes felt like a reassuring pat. Like the tree had absorbed the sediment and understood it. Then she would laugh at the very notion of it, a laugh as quiet as the wind sighing between those very same green fingers.

But suddenly she stood up and closed the window quietly. Suddenly the morning changed. Shutting out her only friend, she was quiet, but resigned. For some reason she felt suddenly sick of sitting and waiting for a nod of acknowledgement from Fate, from the Universe, from Karma, from the God or Gods or whatever else you call it; tired of the monotony of the unchanging mornings that she had only ever known how to love. And she didn’t know why. Even as she walked away the creature already missed her precious morning. The exiled tree already seemed to droop in surrender. And she didn’t know why.

Because she had changed. She had changed and therefore the morning must change. But the creature did not know this.

She went out to apologize to her friend for changing the morning. To explain that she didn’t know what she was doing. It was true, for the colours in her mind had changed. And the songs in her mind became different too. The colours that used to meet and fuse in exaltation and beauty now just clashed, like something that was just simply, unjustifiably wrong. Familiarity crawled into a little corner inside her, whimpering and whining all the way.

When the creature reached her ancient tree friend, she curled up at the base of its mighty trunk; beneath its thick canopy. The coldness she felt there disturbed her. It was something strange, new. Too new. Too strange.

As intended, she apologized. And she spoke to it as she always did, wondering at everything that was happening all too suddenly. As she spoke the coldness seemed to melt away and the rain tree seemed to want to hug her again and be happy again and laugh again. She sighed and leaned her back against her friend. Perhaps the next morning might yield more unsettling things. Or it might tuck this morning somewhere beneath the folds of history, erasing all memory of it. Perhaps. She could only hope.

And though her thoughts remained more tangled than the roots of her tree-friend, some semblance of peace did return to her heart. And what with that and her best friend’s forgiveness, and the tiredness in her bones from change, her eyelids soon fluttered close.

Only she never woke up. She remained there as long as the tree did. And the tree remained there as long as she did. Never was there another morning just like every other before, yet there were infinitely many. They remained there, each depending on the other. Unmoving but not frozen, a little fragment that time forgot to drag ahead; the creature, the tree, and the changed morning. Because she had changed. She had changed and therefore the morning must change.

Inert Matter

Okay, okay...I know I promised my next post would be on the Poetics, but I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint my 'millions' of readers...heh :D Actually, I intended to write that post as part of my revision for my drama exam, but the exam has passed and I never got around to it.

Generally however, Poetics doesn't really tickle my fancy. I'm not denying credit where it's due though, it still gets kudos for being the first critique of drama, and Aristotle did raise some very good points. But then again there are also points that have been ridiculously misinterpreted and I simply cannot wrap my head around how and why the whole thing has virtually been sanctified and obediently followed for as long as it has. Nope, don't get it.

Maybe if I'm still rajin I'll eventually get round to going a little further into this. But for now, I want to enjoy my break. Short semester is over and I've got a couple of weeks to either breathe or drown, depends how you look at it. For the most part, I'm still trying to digest the past couple of months, so I don't have much else to say on that front.

On another note, have I mentioned how much I love the Supernatural fandom? I have right? Just in case I haven't, let me state for the record that I love the Supernatural fandom and all it's ridiculousness and batshit craziness and obsessiveness and ....ok I'm sure you get the picture. Let me just clarify that I'm talking about the fandom here, not even the show yet :) I would list down some exquisite examples of the insanity that Supernatural can provoke in it's fans, but I'm afraid I would scare you. So I'll just leave it at that.

Quickie

This week has been super busy! Next week is the last of classes, and then, FINALS!!! 0_0

So this week I've been getting my ducks in a row....tying up loose ends on various assignments and projects. 

On top of that I've been going to Janda Baik in the afternoons for my first ever stint at teaching. I've gone for a few classes, and so far, I'm no impressed with myself. Although I had never taught a class before, strangely enough when I did start it didn't feel like alien territory...in fact it felt quite familliar. Nonetheless I need to put a bit more work into it, because I don't think I'm doing a very good job so far. 

Before I go...dare I promise? My next post will be a word or two on Aristotle's Poetics. There, I promise. So look out for it, but not to soon lah! ;)

Don't scratch that itch!

In my last post a few centuries ago, I mentioned that I was going to use up my time by 'catching up on my reading'. Well I've been doing an absolutely hopeless job with it so far....why? Because I'm disorganised, plus, I also just realised, because I'm greedy.

Each time I go to the library I end up borrowing more books than I could ever hope to read. I don't even have to look for the books...I just walk in and instantly a dozen or so titles catch my eye and scream my name. Then with much gusto,  gelojoh, and love I'd scoop as many of them as I can into my arms and take them back to my room. Where they never get read, simply because there are too many of them.

Instead I'll skim through the book, or just read the introduction. While the introduction can actually be just as informative and/or entertaining as anything else, at the end of the day I still don't walk away with much. All that huffing and puffing back and forth between the library and my room would have been for nothing. On top of that, I've been buying more books than ever, and no, I haven't finished reading them either.

For a long while, the only explanation I had for my behaviour was simple: I'm just nuts. And then a couple of days ago the real answer hit me. The 'nuts' factor is still applicable to a certain extent, but the bottom line is I'm just greedy. Greedy for books...should be a good thing right? Wrong my dear, wrong. 

So now, time for a resolution. (Yay, more resolutions to break :D) . My Resolution to Read hereby includes:

• I will create to-read lists
• I will stick to the list and will not buy/borrow anything that is not on the list unless it is very, very, very attractive
• I will NOT randomly borrow books from the library, unless absolutely necessary and relevant to my coursework
• If I see books that really, really make me itch to go on a borrowing spree, I shall copy its details to be included in a separate list (see above), and shall not borrow it until I have enough time to read it in its entirety
• I will not buy any books until I have finished reading the last book I bought/borrowed
• I will not seek out book shops, book fairs, and libraries, unless I am in search of something absolutely necessary and relevant to my coursework.

There. I hope I haven't left anything out. I hope I can stick to it. Realistically speaking, at the 

rate I'm going, I'm not going to be progressing down my lists with very much speed. Did I mention my online time takes away from reading time? Well, it does. Good luck to me.

Wandering and Wondering

Let's see...I'm doing short semester now. So far my workload hasn't been too bad, so I'm filling up my time by catching up on some reading. To a certain extent, this has been making my mind and soul wander about for a bit, to grey destinations I cannot yet name. But I think I'm already seeing some results from these wanderings...

The past few years that I've spent as an IIU student has been some of the best of my life. I have unreservedly welcomed what happiness and unhappiness life would gently slip into me. And in between these two opposites, there were moments when I thought that I had found myself. I think I've lost these moments, and I'm not sure where to find them.

I think I would also mention that I've also been doing some physical wandering, around campus. And I just have to keep wandering, spiritually and physically, until I find something. Maybe this searching itself is supposed to be my life, and yet again maybe I'm supposed to find something and go forth from there. We'll see.

Sleepy

This hasn't been a very good semester. I'm having finals now, I can't focus and my papers so far have been train wrecks.

I haven't watched Supernatural in a while...a few new episodes have come out and I'm behind. I miss the show. So far season 4 is really scaring me, because I'm seeing the boys being pulled in two different directions. Sam's getting darker, Dean's getting more...well, beriman. Good for him, bad for Sam, and even worse for the fangirl. Those boys are going to drive me crazy. Damn you Kripke; I love you, but DAMN YOU.

As for the overall story arc, one of the things I loved most about the show in the beginning was that it was simple. Now, we have the epic battle between heaven and hell, as well angels and demons doing humans. And the heroes are battling to save the world from the incoming and fast-approaching apocalypse. COME ON!!! :( But of course, Kripke being Kripke and doing what Kripke does best, by this time I'm completely addicted to the show and I don't mind the plot so much and I just have to keep watching anyway.

God help me. With this psycho addiction and this nutso semester.