Friday, November 13, 2009
Finality Rant... Playing Catchup
This is an unhappy post, because right now I am sad and tired and unhappy and also because I can.
It's nearly 6:30am in the morning and I'm sitting in the computer lab. I've been sitting here since 5pm yesterday. I'm updating my blog now because I've more or less given up on my program.
It's probably my fault that I don't know how to do it. My prof, he tries to explain stuff in class, but nothing sticks. Not for me at least. I flunked the midterm. Probably my fault again. I catch myself doodling during the day, calculating the marks I need to pass. If not scribbling on the table, my mind is always on it.
I look at the people around me. most of them have dark circles, receding hairlines, slumped shoulders, stressed and scratched skin. Many are wearing the same clothes as they did yesterday.
And then there are those who look fresh as ever. Sharp haircuts, calculated expressions, positive body language, relaxed. I try to imagine what they do when they are not at school. Probably hard at work doing their homework and figuring out labs. And they still have the time to come to class.
There is no peace in my mind. Always turmoil. Calculating how far I've fallen behind in maths or when the next project is due. I knew it wasn't going to be fun, but I didn't think I it was unmanageable.
I'm sitting here in the lab, nearer to 6:30am, and I wonder. I wonder why I'm the only one sitting here. The only one with his work undone. Out of two hundred and eighty students, why am I the only one here? I know it's probably my fault. I shouldn't have skipped those two lectures last month.
It all happens so fast. before you know it, your midterms are over, and now the pressure is on for the finals. Maybe if I can stop calculating how much I need in the finals, maybe if i can stop... I could get some work done.
When I was around 10 years old... and that's pretty far back for me, I realized something about myself. I was competitive. When it came to tennis, I would put my heart and soul into it. But as soon as I fell back in a game, all of that fiery spirit just fizzled out. And if i ever lost, it took me the longest time to bounce back, if I ever did manage to.
That's the same feeling I have at the beginning of September. My eyes are set on the goal, and nothing is going to stop me from getting a perfect score this year. And then the first test happens. I study humbly for it. Do all the questions and all the papers. The question paper is simple, but i choke. 60% on something I should have aced. I stumble on the next paper and the next and the next.
I know its probably my fault. Maybe i should have put in some more effort.
And now I'm here. At the lab at just past 6:30am. I probably won't get this program to work by 5pm. Not without some divine intervention and sleep.
And so I give up.
I want to keep writing, but I'll spare you the words. That is, if you got this far.
It's nearly 6:30am in the morning and I'm sitting in the computer lab. I've been sitting here since 5pm yesterday. I'm updating my blog now because I've more or less given up on my program.
It's probably my fault that I don't know how to do it. My prof, he tries to explain stuff in class, but nothing sticks. Not for me at least. I flunked the midterm. Probably my fault again. I catch myself doodling during the day, calculating the marks I need to pass. If not scribbling on the table, my mind is always on it.
I look at the people around me. most of them have dark circles, receding hairlines, slumped shoulders, stressed and scratched skin. Many are wearing the same clothes as they did yesterday.
And then there are those who look fresh as ever. Sharp haircuts, calculated expressions, positive body language, relaxed. I try to imagine what they do when they are not at school. Probably hard at work doing their homework and figuring out labs. And they still have the time to come to class.
There is no peace in my mind. Always turmoil. Calculating how far I've fallen behind in maths or when the next project is due. I knew it wasn't going to be fun, but I didn't think I it was unmanageable.
I'm sitting here in the lab, nearer to 6:30am, and I wonder. I wonder why I'm the only one sitting here. The only one with his work undone. Out of two hundred and eighty students, why am I the only one here? I know it's probably my fault. I shouldn't have skipped those two lectures last month.
It all happens so fast. before you know it, your midterms are over, and now the pressure is on for the finals. Maybe if I can stop calculating how much I need in the finals, maybe if i can stop... I could get some work done.
When I was around 10 years old... and that's pretty far back for me, I realized something about myself. I was competitive. When it came to tennis, I would put my heart and soul into it. But as soon as I fell back in a game, all of that fiery spirit just fizzled out. And if i ever lost, it took me the longest time to bounce back, if I ever did manage to.
That's the same feeling I have at the beginning of September. My eyes are set on the goal, and nothing is going to stop me from getting a perfect score this year. And then the first test happens. I study humbly for it. Do all the questions and all the papers. The question paper is simple, but i choke. 60% on something I should have aced. I stumble on the next paper and the next and the next.
I know its probably my fault. Maybe i should have put in some more effort.
And now I'm here. At the lab at just past 6:30am. I probably won't get this program to work by 5pm. Not without some divine intervention and sleep.
And so I give up.
I want to keep writing, but I'll spare you the words. That is, if you got this far.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Crash
There are words, there are sounds, there are actions and there is you and me. With my words, I persuade you to believe in me. With my sounds, I make you feel for me. With my actions, I make you succumb to my illusion.
I am every cliche you hear. I am every truth you believe. I am standing next to you, always. Even when I am oceans away, you will feel me, breathing down your neck.
There are words, there are sounds, there are actions, and there is everyone. Dressed in flowers and painted with makeup, they are ready to take the stage. They are ready to put on the show of your life... the show that is your life.
Sometimes I feel like I am not real. Sometimes I feel like each step I take is unimportant. So I convince myself that I am relative to you. I am what you make of me.
Paint me a picture, write me a song. Fill me with your touch. Fill me with your reality. And I will fill you with mine. Tread carefully though, for there might be gaping holes for you to see through. They are because of my downfalls. They are the birth of new knowledge. Knowledge about you through the eyes of me.
There have been many before you, and there will be many after. And you may come to wonder what the point of these lead words are. You may wonder why you smile for me everyday when I walk past you in the hallway. You may wonder how it is possible to fill an empty basin with more emptiness. You may wonder about the reason for this reality.
I cannot give you the answer to that in words. I cannot give you the answer in sounds. I cannot give you the answer in actions. But look at me. Concentrate on me. Look at yourself. Close your eyes and look at everyone. Touch them.
"It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something."
-Paul Haggis, Crash (2004)
I am every cliche you hear. I am every truth you believe. I am standing next to you, always. Even when I am oceans away, you will feel me, breathing down your neck.
There are words, there are sounds, there are actions, and there is everyone. Dressed in flowers and painted with makeup, they are ready to take the stage. They are ready to put on the show of your life... the show that is your life.
Sometimes I feel like I am not real. Sometimes I feel like each step I take is unimportant. So I convince myself that I am relative to you. I am what you make of me.
Paint me a picture, write me a song. Fill me with your touch. Fill me with your reality. And I will fill you with mine. Tread carefully though, for there might be gaping holes for you to see through. They are because of my downfalls. They are the birth of new knowledge. Knowledge about you through the eyes of me.
There have been many before you, and there will be many after. And you may come to wonder what the point of these lead words are. You may wonder why you smile for me everyday when I walk past you in the hallway. You may wonder how it is possible to fill an empty basin with more emptiness. You may wonder about the reason for this reality.
I cannot give you the answer to that in words. I cannot give you the answer in sounds. I cannot give you the answer in actions. But look at me. Concentrate on me. Look at yourself. Close your eyes and look at everyone. Touch them.
"It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something."
-Paul Haggis, Crash (2004)
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