I think academic pressure is one of THE things that really crack me. (NOT crack me UP)
The more i feel it, the more my mind begins to recall the past, imagine negative scenarios and i feel myself sink into mild depression.
Thanks January and Alwyn for your comments on the other way of looking at things. I'm glad because they serve as advice for someone who gets near the brink of insanity sometimes.
I'm trying to now equate Jesus and God and try to believe that there's no real distinction.
These confusions come i suppose as a result of redundant overthinking...? Or the brain wanting to establish compartmentalization. (woo, "that's quite a mouthful")
By the way Alwyn, which CCA were you in?
Oh and, i'm really wondering if we've got the right Betty here because "quiet church girl" type is entirely not her! Heehee.
She's not promiscuous or anything. Just pure bubbly!
ROBIN was your primary school mate and you NEVER knew he was just there??!?!
HAHA. OOhh-kkayy... Well, the "chipmunk" is at HQ Signals, so i've gathered from Robin's friend (Ben Xiao).
Hm, you mean you couldn't see Robin's photo until i put up a picture?
These days, it seems like if you want to be original, you should have black hair..
Have finally put a picture on the well, should i say infamous network thingy.
I'm no man's dream but i think i prefer my haircut now as compared to the one in the photo.
I cut myself a fringe some time ago because i thought the long bit was too thick and curly.
In addition, my forehead had seemed to be falsely claiming that i have big brains...
Hence my fringe.
As of this moment, i am TRYING to get my poetry analysis technique correct.
Ah, as the black and white says, "There's no ONE way going about it..."
But as always, they will then say something like: But if you read into its form and yada yada, you'll come to understand what it's trying to say.
And so Jo went for her seminar and discovered that doing-a-Mr Bean (i.o.w, looking at and yabbering about what you can see in a painting) is MUCH easier then poetry.
Though i have utmost respect for poetry... Good grief.
I REGRET the unchangable fact that i can't crack the thing, because it's such an artful and comprehensive (ok, that would depend on the KIND of poem) way of expression.
I have to say that i have grown to hate making sense out of it.
So everytime i glance at a poem, i feel upon me a cocktail of emotions, namely: Fear, Detest and Awe-but-face-it-you-CAN'T-handle-it-honey.
Although a poem, or a Sonnet (the sort i'm dealing with) may sound pretty straightforward in intention and meaning, there's much more that escapes the layman if he/she doesn't know what it takes to explain or RIP UP (in this case i mean analyse but by gum... i'd love to rip it up in the other sense) one.
There're SO MANY factors, both mechanical and linguistical, that one must consider for a poem's meaning.
I'm beginning to wonder if the spelling of the word "When" has a particular influence in the poem's meaning also.
It get's so teensy weensy-ly picky about every aspect.
Which've why i have a bone to pick with it...
I just can't do it.
I'm sure hoping that practice would sharpen my poetic instincts.
One of the reasons why we have to get picky is because, a poet can only say so much, to convey a whole barrage of emotions and perhaps to create an atmosphere.
So, every little punctuation and form of word, rhythm, pattern and wotnot plays a vital role in expression.
Hence we have to tear it apart like that.
Guess i'll be off now.
Have to rush that poetry assignment.
* "Scorn not the Sonnet" - by William Wordsworth*