Literature is compulsory in your last two years in 190 Dunearn Road. Some time, just some times, I wish I haven't been tainted with it. Four years of rigorous literary analysations has changed the way I look at things, at people. Little subtleties regarded previously as ever so insignificant are seen as an indirect insult, a hidden meaning.

Granted, it is rather tiring, convincing yourself it's nothing, that your making Mount Everest out of a Lilliputian mole hill. But most of the time, I revel in having the skill drilled into me. It is useful. Plus the wide vocabulary that accumulates inevitably over all that widespread exposure is advantageous, t say the least. Especially during several instances I could name off the top of my head.

Being over-analytical is can possibly be a hindrance but undeniably, it can be a utilitarian skill. And I suppose it makes you more aware of the unconscious little gestures that we are all guilty of. You're more likely t notice something than a person not cultured in the study of subtleties, diction and other various literary techniques.

Simpletons would call it looking too much into something that's nothing. I call it dissecting what you see and exploring the possibilities. One day, it might just pay off.

Most importantly, remember this. Just because a person chooses not t comment or bother his or herself with the situation, does not mean that the person in question is blind or deaf t it. It is just a matter of not wasting energy on affairs deemed of little importance.

I'm in that mood again. This time, Hana Kimi's t blame. Yknow what? From now on, I'm gonna keep track of how often I'm in this mood. Just for my own entertainment.

Quite like the feeling/mood, really. It makes me exercise my mind in ways other than with regards t academics. Most of the time, it makes me happy. Though right now it is rather distracting, seeing as I've got exams in five weeks. Would prefer it would come when I'm lying in bed trying t fall asleep. I wouldn't be too distracted then. I like those moments, when you think of what has not yet come t pass. Do you?

Wonder if I'll ever outgrow it.

I've a friend of fourteen years who I still talk too. Shame, really, that we aren't as close as we were before. But fourteen years. That even trumps zxc, who I've known for eleven years. I suppose zxc would be my oldest friend who I'm closest t.

It'll be cool, don't you think, t grow up with someone and still know them about fifty or sixty years later. You can talk about the good old days in the playground, nap time, colouring time. Yes, I distinctly remember in kindergarten, I coloured an ant blue. My teacher told me my ant was from Wonderland.

Here comes the old cliche of meeting many people through the course of your life. Most of whom you'll lose contact with sooner or later. Or even if you don't exactly lose contact, thanks t the wonderful invention of the world wide web, you wouldn't exactly be chums, now would you? Despite the cliche, it really is undeniably true. Barely a year out of 190 Dunearn Road and I barely exchange words with friends I've come t know and love over the years spent in blue.

Depressing. That's how growing up should be described. I wouldn't mind living in a secondary school life world again. If only the world could be like a secondary school, though co-ed, please. Honestly speaking, a secondary school world is a tad unrealistic and so cannot work out. But hey, it's a wish. And it's not as if it's going t come true anytime soon. No harm done then.

Ddj: (stares at passage about magnetic fields and electricity) Oh gee, this looks illuminating.

Teacher X: You sound very excited.

Ddj: Yes, I am. Illuminating things are always long, with many words and no pictures.

Teacher X: Yes well. It's about electricity and light bulbs. And light bulbs illuminate.

At least the school isn't entirely rid of people with appreciation of literary techniques and word play. But seriously. If this was the most amusing part of my day, that says something, doesn't it?

Being lazy t sleep isn't insomnia. It's just not wanting t sleep. There's a difference. Nonetheless, it's amusing. That sometimes when I go t sleep, people are waking up t begin their day.

I was talking t sister over the weekend. We were discussing vulnerability at night. I know it sounds much cheemer than it actually is. It was more of a one or two minute discussion before we digressed. I said I like the night. The quiet, the serenity, the silence. It's as if the whole world's come t a stop and you're the only one who's above it all, since you're still awake.

Taking the other side of the argument, too much of this quiet can sometimes be detrimental. This comes from experience. From not one, but both of us. Night time makes us think too much, seeing as we're people with highly active and vivid imaginations.

We subconsciously torture ourselves with our wildly formed thoughts chasing themselves around in our minds instead of resting them. Strange people, that's what we are.

We are a queer pair.

Yknow what I can't stand? People pronouncing 'film' as 'flim'. Oh. My. Frigging. God. For everyone's sake, I beg of you t look at the spelling of the word. The i comes before the l. Or do you need t be demoted back t kindergarten so you can learn how t read again?

Seriously. Flim just makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand. Even worse than nails on a chalk board. Maybe this Christmas I should ask for proper pronunciation t follow me where I go. Or at least no more flims. I'll just have t resist the urge t pull out my ears and scratch the culprit's eyes out the next time I heard that atrocious not real word.

Dyou want t my superhero and erase flim for the world? The world would be a much better place without it.

I love tv shows. They make me nice and fuzzy inside. They give me something fantasy-like t believe in. Grey's just made me smile t myself and as that certain part carried on, I found myself grinning like an idiot at the computer screen, squishing my toy dog.

So one day, why don't you pick up a wine glass with me and we can toast t never inhibiting our imagination. Let's drink t never letting go of something even children dare t do. To dream.

Just wish I had something t take me on a cable car ride t a world of make believe.

Literature is compulsory in your last two years in 190 Dunearn Road. Some time, just some times, I wish I haven't been tainted with it. Four years of rigorous literary analysations has changed the way I look at things, at people. Little subtleties regarded previously as ever so insignificant are seen as an indirect insult, a hidden meaning.

Granted, it is rather tiring, convincing yourself it's nothing, that your making Mount Everest out of a Lilliputian mole hill. But most of the time, I revel in having the skill drilled into me. It is useful. Plus the wide vocabulary that accumulates inevitably over all that widespread exposure is advantageous, t say the least. Especially during several instances I could name off the top of my head.

Being over-analytical is can possibly be a hindrance but undeniably, it can be a utilitarian skill. And I suppose it makes you more aware of the unconscious little gestures that we are all guilty of. You're more likely t notice something than a person not cultured in the study of subtleties, diction and other various literary techniques.

Simpletons would call it looking too much into something that's nothing. I call it dissecting what you see and exploring the possibilities. One day, it might just pay off.

Most importantly, remember this. Just because a person chooses not t comment or bother his or herself with the situation, does not mean that the person in question is blind or deaf t it. It is just a matter of not wasting energy on affairs deemed of little importance.

I'm in that mood again. This time, Hana Kimi's t blame. Yknow what? From now on, I'm gonna keep track of how often I'm in this mood. Just for my own entertainment.

Quite like the feeling/mood, really. It makes me exercise my mind in ways other than with regards t academics. Most of the time, it makes me happy. Though right now it is rather distracting, seeing as I've got exams in five weeks. Would prefer it would come when I'm lying in bed trying t fall asleep. I wouldn't be too distracted then. I like those moments, when you think of what has not yet come t pass. Do you?

Wonder if I'll ever outgrow it.

I've a friend of fourteen years who I still talk too. Shame, really, that we aren't as close as we were before. But fourteen years. That even trumps zxc, who I've known for eleven years. I suppose zxc would be my oldest friend who I'm closest t.

It'll be cool, don't you think, t grow up with someone and still know them about fifty or sixty years later. You can talk about the good old days in the playground, nap time, colouring time. Yes, I distinctly remember in kindergarten, I coloured an ant blue. My teacher told me my ant was from Wonderland.

Here comes the old cliche of meeting many people through the course of your life. Most of whom you'll lose contact with sooner or later. Or even if you don't exactly lose contact, thanks t the wonderful invention of the world wide web, you wouldn't exactly be chums, now would you? Despite the cliche, it really is undeniably true. Barely a year out of 190 Dunearn Road and I barely exchange words with friends I've come t know and love over the years spent in blue.

Depressing. That's how growing up should be described. I wouldn't mind living in a secondary school life world again. If only the world could be like a secondary school, though co-ed, please. Honestly speaking, a secondary school world is a tad unrealistic and so cannot work out. But hey, it's a wish. And it's not as if it's going t come true anytime soon. No harm done then.

Ddj: (stares at passage about magnetic fields and electricity) Oh gee, this looks illuminating.

Teacher X: You sound very excited.

Ddj: Yes, I am. Illuminating things are always long, with many words and no pictures.

Teacher X: Yes well. It's about electricity and light bulbs. And light bulbs illuminate.

At least the school isn't entirely rid of people with appreciation of literary techniques and word play. But seriously. If this was the most amusing part of my day, that says something, doesn't it?

Being lazy t sleep isn't insomnia. It's just not wanting t sleep. There's a difference. Nonetheless, it's amusing. That sometimes when I go t sleep, people are waking up t begin their day.

I was talking t sister over the weekend. We were discussing vulnerability at night. I know it sounds much cheemer than it actually is. It was more of a one or two minute discussion before we digressed. I said I like the night. The quiet, the serenity, the silence. It's as if the whole world's come t a stop and you're the only one who's above it all, since you're still awake.

Taking the other side of the argument, too much of this quiet can sometimes be detrimental. This comes from experience. From not one, but both of us. Night time makes us think too much, seeing as we're people with highly active and vivid imaginations.

We subconsciously torture ourselves with our wildly formed thoughts chasing themselves around in our minds instead of resting them. Strange people, that's what we are.

We are a queer pair.

Yknow what I can't stand? People pronouncing 'film' as 'flim'. Oh. My. Frigging. God. For everyone's sake, I beg of you t look at the spelling of the word. The i comes before the l. Or do you need t be demoted back t kindergarten so you can learn how t read again?

Seriously. Flim just makes the hairs at the back of my neck stand. Even worse than nails on a chalk board. Maybe this Christmas I should ask for proper pronunciation t follow me where I go. Or at least no more flims. I'll just have t resist the urge t pull out my ears and scratch the culprit's eyes out the next time I heard that atrocious not real word.

Dyou want t my superhero and erase flim for the world? The world would be a much better place without it.

I love tv shows. They make me nice and fuzzy inside. They give me something fantasy-like t believe in. Grey's just made me smile t myself and as that certain part carried on, I found myself grinning like an idiot at the computer screen, squishing my toy dog.

So one day, why don't you pick up a wine glass with me and we can toast t never inhibiting our imagination. Let's drink t never letting go of something even children dare t do. To dream.

Just wish I had something t take me on a cable car ride t a world of make believe.