Fatigue

Good grief, it's been a really short week...most of it eaten up by that monstrosity of a Hist S essay I was doing. The issue is really too interesting for its own good, and I found my arguments spinning outwards all over the place and growing uncontrollably. The trouble, I think, is that I was trying to cover too much, and the scope for the essay is terribly wide at any rate. Ah well, it was a good question, but for reasons of practicality I don't think I'll do anything like it again.

Friday morning was the climax of the mind-boggling process of writing...the class was small, with a little more than half present. And with Purvis sick, that meant that we finished at 10am. The last lesson was Batchelor's lit, and we did the last - and best - Frost poem. Hehheh, the poem is so surreal, kind of like the things that the Beat Generation writers would write. It has the richest imagery I've ever seen in a Frost poem, and it jumps around conceptually, and it deals with memory. What else could I ask for in a poem? =P So I reckon that Directive is the most interesting one that we've done, and that it'll soon become my favourite one.

Anyway...after 10, me and Chun Long went to the library. Naively I reckoned that I would be able to finish it in the five hours between the end of school and the start of Lit S, but the arguments (and the freezing cold of the library - why the heck do they make it so cold, anyway? Waste energy) defeated me halfway through. And I was shivering so much that I couldn't press the right buttons. So, I dragged my books and my shuddering frame out of the ninth level of Dante's hell for lunch.

But unwisely, instead of taking a break, I immediately started tackling Return of the Native and Directive. By the time Lit S was about to start my brain was wholly battered and wrung dry. I've never been unable to continue reading before. And thus I started to realise exactly what I'd gotten myself into, by doing Lit and Hist S simultaneously. Boy, I imagine that after this year, I'll have to go for language detox. Immersing oneself in words isn't so bad...until the point when your feet lose contact with the seabed and you start to drown.

Anyway, shall be going off for Chorale concert later...I expect it'll be great.

Still a bit annoyed. I reckon I'll never figure out why I respond like that. But right now, it's just getting tiresome...I wish that it had never happened in the first place. And I wish we'd just let it lie.

Why is it that what we call young love seems to be inseperable from a certain measure of desperation? Everyone wants to be a Vye.

Hmm...been thinking of the Bangkok history trip. It'll be great to get out of Singapore again! And as luck would have it, it seems like practically all my flightmates are going to be on the trip. Hmm...that should make it more fun, but I can't figure out how everything will work out. Ah well, I guess these things can be trusted to take care of themselves. But I'm eager to revisit the experience of the exploration of a foreign place with nothing but a friend and a map to back you up. Heh, that does give one an overarching sense of responsibility, and also freedom, because the limits to the responsibility are so clearly defined.

Heh, as you can see, I really don't feel like writing anymore, though I do have lots to say. Perhaps a few more days, when I recover from the Hist S essay, I can give a more detailed account. But till then...back to slacking! And see you guys at the VCH later...

pondered by phoenican @ 17.4.05