thistle;

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

i really dontknow what i'd do without music. that rhythm, that tempo. the way the lyrics and tune affects my mood and how it adds or takes away. ahh. the sound of music. i abolutely like=)

my mom is seriously pissed off at me. you see, many little things add up together to form the kind of relationship we have with each other right now. maybe its the generation gap. maybe its the stress. maybe its the lack of money. maybe. maybe. maybe. so many maybes. but probably its due to my lack of discipline. my lackadaisical attitude. her being always so tensedup. her highblood pressure. her having to work doubly hard because my father is such a slacker. to pay the bills. to make sure theres food on the table three meals a day. me. my sister. my father. my grandmother. the house. the home. the family. the house is just a shelter. a roof. the gates. the walls. prevent people from entering. prevent. prevent love. prevent warmth. prevent.

have i mentioned how much i like Literature? its only in JC that i discover what an absolute gem this subject is. but sometimes. its get abit tiring once in awhile having to deep read, having to analyse every single sentence, every word, every punctuation, every title, every page. i dont like to go into details. i dont like details. i like to brush those minute insignificant things aside and just concentrate on the large picture. but theres no minute insiginficant things in Literature. every single thing is significant, like it or not. every single freakin' detail.

i dont do bad enough to fail, but neither do i brillantly well. but i dont want to be just an average student. i dont want to be average. i want to do well. to excel. to soar. flying colours. but that very fact brings me to the point where now i have to work triply hard so as to achieve what i want to achieve.

but there are problems. obstacles. like money. the lack of money. the lack. the lack of communication. the lack of discipline. the lack of sense. the lack. lacking. lack. the lack of.

life is like a bubble-producing machine.
right,elissa? =)

icy fingers playing piano on my skin - 9:49 AM