08242011

E is supposed to be sleeping right now. Thanks to Eco lab exam and my distorted Circadian rhythm. :)

I love my 3rd year as Bio undergrad: my time of pushing myself out of the box.

First is my transition from follower to leader. I am recently trained as a VG leader and became a project head in an org where I am a newbie. Honestly, I hate responsibilities; but then, I cannot escape any of them. My submissive character makes me a good follower (and I always prefer being like that), but a good leader? I know I am not an ideal leader; but who knows? I am still in the process of development (?!?). (A good leader is a good follower... I do not know if that applies to me also. :p) I am a reluctant leader. Hahaha.

Next is my Advance Swimming course. Well, I took that just because it is required in our curriculum (It gives me horrible tan lines.) I am a super slow learner when it comes to sports; but at least, I am learning. While my Basic Swimming course during my freshie year made me aquaphobic, this class every Wednesday gave me less fear in Olympic-size swimming pools (worse in an open ocean? I haven't tried yet.). And now I'm loving breaststroke. :))))

I still need some sleep. That's all. :D

Untitled

They're like songs resonating in my ear,

Songs that lack notes but with music as I hear;

But then, they are simply plain words spoken,

A double-edged sword that strikes on a heart that's broken.

At first I had a regret of giving in

Since it was a life that's tired of losing.

Shameful, without pride, I stood to survive,

Went on like a puppet, waiting for each day to arrive.

Like the usual days, my knees touched the mud on ground.

There's nothing new on the low with my feet on bound.

I didn't care breaking what is already crashed.

Who minds to my dreams burning into ash?

As I look face-to-face with the earth where I fell,

A voice bravely spoken woke me up from hell.

"Will you freeze yourself while time keeps on running?

To listen to the struggling mind that negates faith,

Or to hear the voice of the heart and its dying passion?

Whatever it is, stand. I care."

Suddenly, my eyes opened.

No chains nor dirt as I lie supine on my bed.

From my eyes a drop of tear fell,

It's not a nightmare, though it seems I was dragged from hell.

I tried to sleep to go back to that "dream"

But I failed, for there was neither whisper nor scream.

My soul wants to hear those words again,

And wholeheartedly, to say thanks to him.

11212010

*This was written before To Close a Book. My first attempt after two years.
This is a poem about learning and life. I am so thankful that I was able to meet that person. :)

Nostalgia

Can I modify my past for a while?

Of course no human being can struggle against the waves of time; and all I can do with that memory is to laugh at it.

...at least there is something to laugh at.

I recovered a draft of my old poem at the back of an old high school notebook. I already forgot the title of this. As I was reading the lines, I feel like I want to say "Craaappp...". In reality, I was not able to say anything; only made me smile. Am I really writing this way years back? The good thing is that the other poems are now gone.

To share my young thoughts (or more appropriate to say as my something-to-laugh-at memory), here it is:

For the spark that I saw in the midst of darkness;

For the wave that was moved by the wind of sweetness;

For the star that I wished to achieve from the sky;

For the rain that fell gently from the mildest high;

For the chance that was once with me but lost in the end;

For the bear that gave comfort but went out from my hand.

Shall I finish each statement with a single dot

Or add up another two to say, "Thanks a lot?"

...and I am sorry giving a tangle in your thread

'Cause I can't simply say what's running in my head.

Now that I have lost the small piece that I have hoped for

Will it be back to me in the time of my honor?

I hope that this will be the last time that I'll close my eyes,

For I don't want to be fooled again by thise sweetest lies.

*So yun na. (Sounds so emo-ish.)There is a time written below the poem: 7:30pm. I can't remember the date. This poem had a different fate among the others that were burned. I decided to keep it... for fun. :)

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Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure. -Jane Austen

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