When shadows fell upon the rugged road,
And silence broke the thoughts within myself,
A world of distant grief revealed itself
As seeds of hate a black hand gently sowed.
I’ll leave it here just to remember.
I’ve been a First Year student for two years. Man. If I were still at Loras, right now I’d be becoming a Junior. Time flies… but no, I’m a First Year here, and it seems I’ll be so forever and ever and ever. This second semester was characterized by a phenomenon I will call Stray Student Syndrome (SSS), which has a few byproducts —thoughts— I’d like to share with myself now that I’m free to scratch my belly and stare at the ceiling all day and all night if I want to.
- Last-minute homework is never 100% satisfactory.
- Refrain your blogging impulses while doing homework!
- There is no such thing as too much cereal on a sleepless night.
- Sushi is easy to prepare! Let’s make more sushi!
- I know more French than I ever thought. (But then, who taught me all that much???)
- Putting language learning above it all is a nice way to dissipate that itchy SSS.
- I don’t care. I wonder if I should start caring.
- English = participation. Spanish = deadly silence (with the obvious exception of Nihongo class).
- Make it a Western Society Must and I won’t even touch it.
- Literature (as a major) is entirely made of Western Society Musts. Will somebody puh-leeeaase turn around the corner? There are more than two civilized continents on this planet!
- People suck, but my friends are pure gold!
- Spending an afternoon in the BLAA is definitely a great plan for relaxation.
- I should have known when I was 12 and read Family: I’m in love with Chinese literature!
- Are you in for adventures? Do your research in the National Library!
- Catherine Thornton says I could be a good candidate for a degree in Asian Studies. I can’t get that out of my mind. Could it be so? Could it be so?
What can I do now with so much free time, huh? You can’t be happier than I am now!
Life used to be quite easy, in terms of likes and dislikes. I used to read whatever came into my hands, following nothing but my heart when I was to choose my next reading companion. I never took heed of big names in order to fall in love with their works, except for Homer. And I couldn’t care less if I simply didn’t like that which I should have adored. Maybe I was too young, maybe I wasn’t made for the big leagues, who knows. Reading, as well as writing and listening to music, was simply a passion — not a golden badge to wear and show off in front of your friends.
Suddenly, the truth was revealed to me: “these are the writers you must read,” “these are the songs you must hum,” “these are the poems you must recite,” “these are the movies you must watch.” Confessing an ignorance became something like stepping on somebody’s brand new carpet with muddy boots. Confessing a dislike made the mudstain permanent.
Where was I when the Basic Knowledge chip was implanted on everybody’s brains?
Am I from another planet, do I speak another language? for those names mean nothing to me, no matter how hard I try to figure them out. No, nothing…
But you know what, people? The more you point at the stains I leave, the harder I will step on that carpet you all dance on with your shiny ballet shoes.
And yes it hurts that I’ve got one less thing in common with you, but that’s how I was engineered. And I can’t help it at all.
I wrote a list of the characteristics that my perfect man should hold. I received some comments about it. While I was reading them, a strange feeling invaded me all of a sudden: the feeling that nobody ever would take my list seriously, that no human being in this country could ever take my words seriously, that I live in the absolute wrong place.
Since then, my smile has faded.