She's just a porcelain doll -
a cold, unfeeling porcelain doll.
So very mindless, indecisive...
Nonchalant?
Yet sometimes at night, when the dark clutches at her throat,
this doll weeps quietly,
Tears only a porcelain doll can cry,
Willing her brittle little body to shatter.
Shh, as long as no one knows.
Still, that painted smile and those glossy eyes (do not) betray
her hollow
Nothing.
Not very interesting really, all she does is stand amidst the dust,
hope gleaming off her polished surface.
No one really notices.
No one cares.
It's ok, don't worry about it, just put her back on that shelf over there.
She's only me.
- p u r l -
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Friday, February 25, 2005
Hello Lyrics by Evanescence
Playground schoolbell rings, again
Rainclouds come to play, again
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello, I'm your mind, giving you someone to talk to...Hello...
If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream
Don't try to fix me
I'm not broken
Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide.
Don't cry.
Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping
Hello, I'm still here, all that's left
Of yesterday
walled in, shut out, pushed aside-
my silence fits right into the gaps of the stream of voices.
perhaps thats where i belong.
Diverted laughter fills the gaps silence burned between the two of us in its wake.
The air crisp, almost tangy. The icy smell of the approaching season with mahogany leaves lying at our feet. The days we coyly circled each other, breathless and giddy from the exhilaration of every word, the briefest touch. Days, hours stolen and given stretched and shimmered before us.
I remember that one Thursday night so vividly – your bright yellow t-shirt and grey hoodie, rumbling tummies, my capris rolled down at the bottom to shield my bare calves from the damp chill, you shielding me from the rest of the world.
One heartbeat. Two.
Then it vaporized, was discarded carelessly. Perhaps forgotten.
been devouring books these days.. just finished maoII, middlesex, shopaholic takes manhattan and can you keep a secret since monday.. well no i havent been skipping classes just to read.. they simply became my amusement, my consolation, my escape.
no darling john keats, beauty isnt truth. beauty is escape from the dodgy-ness, the mundane- the "truth" often called "reality". why would i be content late at night feeling shelled out, discarded, temporary in my own life stories to read its "beauty" when there are words written from another's pain, another's life i can simply hold tangible in my hands to immerse myself in? why should i stare at my reflection searching for a trace of beauty when words feed my imagination with carbs to produce it in my mind?
words, words i press against my tired eyes, my sore shoulders. words i stuff into my skull like wads of cotton wool, that shrouds and displaces my vision and train of thought. but there is too much in real life i want.
can't you see? they are so predictable, my own. they sit quietly on my table with its slightly curled covers, the rustle of pages only a trick of the mind, an imaginary breeze. they offer me no warmth, no desire, no sound.. only words oF warmth, of intoxicating desires, music, light, hurt. i laugh, i cry, i dwell thoughtfully with these words. but they are so far away. but these feelings.. they aren't mine. the characters aren't me. once again, i dont belong.
how come it is always up to me? for once tell me how much i am wanted, let me hold those thoughts against my hollowed throat the way i hold printed pages up to the lamp. or just let me know. even being less than one foot away has become unfamiliar.
i walk in the falling snow, the wet swirling flakes melting on my reddened cheeks, my eyelashes.. alot lighter than the tears they held up an hour before. the cold was somehow soothing this afternoon though, it numbed my body, leaving only my concentration in walking across the ice/snow covered field in my dangerous shoes and my breathing to remind me im alive. tranquil almost, if you may.
why did i come? maybe i just wanted to get out of the house. maybe i just wanted a walk. maybe i just wanted to see you. maybe i just wanted to test the possibility of finding a little hint, an encouragement perhaps? maybe i shouldnt have come. not even yesterday. you tell me.
Playground schoolbell rings, again
Rainclouds come to play, again
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello, I'm your mind, giving you someone to talk to...Hello...
If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream
Don't try to fix me
I'm not broken
Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide.
Don't cry.
Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping
Hello, I'm still here, all that's left
Of yesterday
walled in, shut out, pushed aside-
my silence fits right into the gaps of the stream of voices.
perhaps thats where i belong.
Diverted laughter fills the gaps silence burned between the two of us in its wake.
The air crisp, almost tangy. The icy smell of the approaching season with mahogany leaves lying at our feet. The days we coyly circled each other, breathless and giddy from the exhilaration of every word, the briefest touch. Days, hours stolen and given stretched and shimmered before us.
I remember that one Thursday night so vividly – your bright yellow t-shirt and grey hoodie, rumbling tummies, my capris rolled down at the bottom to shield my bare calves from the damp chill, you shielding me from the rest of the world.
One heartbeat. Two.
Then it vaporized, was discarded carelessly. Perhaps forgotten.
been devouring books these days.. just finished maoII, middlesex, shopaholic takes manhattan and can you keep a secret since monday.. well no i havent been skipping classes just to read.. they simply became my amusement, my consolation, my escape.
no darling john keats, beauty isnt truth. beauty is escape from the dodgy-ness, the mundane- the "truth" often called "reality". why would i be content late at night feeling shelled out, discarded, temporary in my own life stories to read its "beauty" when there are words written from another's pain, another's life i can simply hold tangible in my hands to immerse myself in? why should i stare at my reflection searching for a trace of beauty when words feed my imagination with carbs to produce it in my mind?
words, words i press against my tired eyes, my sore shoulders. words i stuff into my skull like wads of cotton wool, that shrouds and displaces my vision and train of thought. but there is too much in real life i want.
can't you see? they are so predictable, my own. they sit quietly on my table with its slightly curled covers, the rustle of pages only a trick of the mind, an imaginary breeze. they offer me no warmth, no desire, no sound.. only words oF warmth, of intoxicating desires, music, light, hurt. i laugh, i cry, i dwell thoughtfully with these words. but they are so far away. but these feelings.. they aren't mine. the characters aren't me. once again, i dont belong.
how come it is always up to me? for once tell me how much i am wanted, let me hold those thoughts against my hollowed throat the way i hold printed pages up to the lamp. or just let me know. even being less than one foot away has become unfamiliar.
i walk in the falling snow, the wet swirling flakes melting on my reddened cheeks, my eyelashes.. alot lighter than the tears they held up an hour before. the cold was somehow soothing this afternoon though, it numbed my body, leaving only my concentration in walking across the ice/snow covered field in my dangerous shoes and my breathing to remind me im alive. tranquil almost, if you may.
why did i come? maybe i just wanted to get out of the house. maybe i just wanted a walk. maybe i just wanted to see you. maybe i just wanted to test the possibility of finding a little hint, an encouragement perhaps? maybe i shouldnt have come. not even yesterday. you tell me.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
"there was no where i could go that wouldn't be you" (Eugenides)
awww, isnt that ushy gushy...? this writer is like the contemporary-er verion of that isabella writer.. i have one of her books somewhere in the depths of my bookshelf. they are both soo good.. the type of boooks you cant put down and u want to read closely coz every detail makes a difference... im pretty sure when i read it a second time it will not be exactly the same.
my room's mess is piling up again.. :S even my table.. oh god. hmm this weekend shall do some cleaning up.. REAL cleaning up..
"Chekhov's first rule of playwriting goes something like this :"if there's a gun on the wall in act one, scene one, you must fire the gun by act three, scene two." "
hahaa.. :) except now it starts as an introduction.
dodoodoo no ones at homeeeee.. no car.. TOO COLD OUTSIDE>. NO GYM!! *inflate*
awww, isnt that ushy gushy...? this writer is like the contemporary-er verion of that isabella writer.. i have one of her books somewhere in the depths of my bookshelf. they are both soo good.. the type of boooks you cant put down and u want to read closely coz every detail makes a difference... im pretty sure when i read it a second time it will not be exactly the same.
my room's mess is piling up again.. :S even my table.. oh god. hmm this weekend shall do some cleaning up.. REAL cleaning up..
"Chekhov's first rule of playwriting goes something like this :"if there's a gun on the wall in act one, scene one, you must fire the gun by act three, scene two." "
hahaa.. :) except now it starts as an introduction.
dodoodoo no ones at homeeeee.. no car.. TOO COLD OUTSIDE>. NO GYM!! *inflate*
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
"The only private language i know is self-exaggeration. I think i've grown a second self in this room. It's the self-important fool that keeps the writer going. I exaggerate the pain of writing, the pain of solitude, the failture, the rage, the confusion, the helplessness, the fear, the humilation. the narrower the boundaries of my life, themore i exaggerate myself. If the pain is real, why do i inflate it? Maybe this is the only pleasure i am allowed."
"Does writing come out of bitterness and rage or does it produce bitterness and rage?"
- Don Delilio, Mao II.
wanted to make a new template for my blog with these words.... but hey, MY BLOG NOW IS GORGEOUS. hahaha.. actually im just lazy. :) wow that book is filled with so much subtle gorgeousness.. only realised it by reading it closely last night during bible class.
writing drives me insane.. but i cant help putting everything into words. i scribble everywhere, i cant resist putting every little thought down.. when i cant i go crazy.. and when i do put it down.. i go crazy the next time i see it.
my moms a pain. so fricking annoying. holy crap. forget this blog.
"Does writing come out of bitterness and rage or does it produce bitterness and rage?"
- Don Delilio, Mao II.
wanted to make a new template for my blog with these words.... but hey, MY BLOG NOW IS GORGEOUS. hahaha.. actually im just lazy. :) wow that book is filled with so much subtle gorgeousness.. only realised it by reading it closely last night during bible class.
writing drives me insane.. but i cant help putting everything into words. i scribble everywhere, i cant resist putting every little thought down.. when i cant i go crazy.. and when i do put it down.. i go crazy the next time i see it.
my moms a pain. so fricking annoying. holy crap. forget this blog.
Monday, February 14, 2005
Hushed whispers
locked doors, i listen to the
scream of silence.
Admist piled layers of wool
and cotton. In the hollows of this shell,
i dream of you.
The clock ticks, under the stillness i can
almost feel the planes
shifting. I can almost hear
your deep breathing
as you dream.
Would you take me with you?
-purl-
locked doors, i listen to the
scream of silence.
Admist piled layers of wool
and cotton. In the hollows of this shell,
i dream of you.
The clock ticks, under the stillness i can
almost feel the planes
shifting. I can almost hear
your deep breathing
as you dream.
Would you take me with you?
-purl-
Friday, February 11, 2005
until u have your next perk, life is but a cycle of misery. for example, i come home feelin poopish, thought chocolate might give a small slight sugar rush to remove the misery.. but i ended up more miserbale than before.. swearing i take up the whole counch.. then i watched chicago, hoping the singing and crazy dancing will be nice.. but no i just get depressed sitting there for 2 hours with nothing else to do.. so yay its over i run upstairs to see if i get msges.. but none.. sadder-ness again.. and then ok.. i dont have internet= frustrated.. so i go ot dawne's computor.. and im frustrated again.. coz no one of my interest is online and its just sad i need internet to be entertained. and now ranting on and on is making me just as miserable.. so.. bedtime u say? No.. sleeping so early is pathetic.. and tomorrrow im gonna be bored agian.. dammit really. why do i always have to be so sad?? as in sad case. im not even blaming anything.. im just one miserable frustrated loserish fat awkward looking loner with a bloody nose.
sometimes i prefer nights to never end.. i have a reason to be in bed and never wake up. tomorrow im gonna buy that thing that covers the eyes during sleep.. that way i may never wake up. yay.
good lord, why does patrick have to come online during my few brief visits to the world wide web?
does advil or telenol make u sleep?? i might need some tomorrow. i hate mornings now. wow i hated this morning. even better i keep sleeping i dont eat. fat kids shold really keep thier paws off the chocolate jars and their pig trotters on the treadmill.
man, i feel like *$#_(%*)$@!. i want to beat the crap out of something with a baseball bat. i dreamed of that for so long! comon' a car will be nice too.. i always visualised and imagined the rush of wind, the folding in of the windscreen, the shards of class, the ache in my shoulder and my right bicep, the crisp smell of rain after a sultry afternoon. oh wow, the adrenaline. thats right son, im repressed.
funny how i mgiht even be too weak to really smash that lovely windscreen in the way i fantasize i would when i actually do get the chance. and the chances of that is.. hmmm.. ZERO!!?? saw the pun? lol puns are funny simply because they arent.
bah humbug, i hate you world
sometimes i prefer nights to never end.. i have a reason to be in bed and never wake up. tomorrow im gonna buy that thing that covers the eyes during sleep.. that way i may never wake up. yay.
good lord, why does patrick have to come online during my few brief visits to the world wide web?
does advil or telenol make u sleep?? i might need some tomorrow. i hate mornings now. wow i hated this morning. even better i keep sleeping i dont eat. fat kids shold really keep thier paws off the chocolate jars and their pig trotters on the treadmill.
man, i feel like *$#_(%*)$@!. i want to beat the crap out of something with a baseball bat. i dreamed of that for so long! comon' a car will be nice too.. i always visualised and imagined the rush of wind, the folding in of the windscreen, the shards of class, the ache in my shoulder and my right bicep, the crisp smell of rain after a sultry afternoon. oh wow, the adrenaline. thats right son, im repressed.
funny how i mgiht even be too weak to really smash that lovely windscreen in the way i fantasize i would when i actually do get the chance. and the chances of that is.. hmmm.. ZERO!!?? saw the pun? lol puns are funny simply because they arent.
bah humbug, i hate you world
Saturday, February 05, 2005
"For I've never known completeness
Like being here
Wrapped in the warmth of you
Loving every breath of you"
but isnt it worse when the completeness is snatched away from you? you cant miss what you never had. i always thought living this way is the best way to keep safe.. just watch me break my rules....
Like being here
Wrapped in the warmth of you
Loving every breath of you"
but isnt it worse when the completeness is snatched away from you? you cant miss what you never had. i always thought living this way is the best way to keep safe.. just watch me break my rules....
oooo now i know why chinese people of the earlier generation say "chi bao le mah" as a greeting.. even if they met in the washroom. lols. daddy told me its because food was almost scarce and it was something that wasnt taken for granted at those times.. esp since he was from the kampong. i must say, my dad came a loooonnnggg way. he only has a poly diploma and my mom dropped out of poly!!! and he has 3 spoilt brats in the tow. ooo *so proud* :D shh, dont tell them i said that.
i feel like talking about my brother and dawnetoday. JUST BECAUSE. well, lets see, my brother potrays himself as a brooding, hunched over arrogant fella who sees himself as superior to everyone else. he utters things that are idealistic and absolutely not practical at all... and everrr so often insulting to the max. my dad gets mad whenever he does it.. but meh, dawne soaks it up like bread and oil while i keep my eyes on my food. he's still a nice guy though, generous(he doesnt seem to be relenting to my grumbles about the wasteland though) and oh so honest, and im so sure he misses home too
DAWNE.. the only one who doesnt seculde ourselves to our rooms in a bad temper. she struts around, incessently yelling out orders and complaints that are more often than not HILARIOUS. and one thing, this girl detests change. its so annoying sometimes.. but..meh. her sense of humour and how she laughs at things i say makes up for it. besides, shes really goood company when shes feeling jolly. *brings out disney soundtracks*
its almost funny how moving here forces my family to sit around and have inner together almost every night.. i never knew everyone was so funny and somehow hammy played a part in helping me appreciate them a little more :) the sky's always stretches a little wider and is more beautiful when you are around. *smoochies*
yay my brother got moulin rouge and chicago dvds for me. *lols* im such a loser. MUSICALS!!
i feel like talking about my brother and dawnetoday. JUST BECAUSE. well, lets see, my brother potrays himself as a brooding, hunched over arrogant fella who sees himself as superior to everyone else. he utters things that are idealistic and absolutely not practical at all... and everrr so often insulting to the max. my dad gets mad whenever he does it.. but meh, dawne soaks it up like bread and oil while i keep my eyes on my food. he's still a nice guy though, generous(he doesnt seem to be relenting to my grumbles about the wasteland though) and oh so honest, and im so sure he misses home too
DAWNE.. the only one who doesnt seculde ourselves to our rooms in a bad temper. she struts around, incessently yelling out orders and complaints that are more often than not HILARIOUS. and one thing, this girl detests change. its so annoying sometimes.. but..meh. her sense of humour and how she laughs at things i say makes up for it. besides, shes really goood company when shes feeling jolly. *brings out disney soundtracks*
its almost funny how moving here forces my family to sit around and have inner together almost every night.. i never knew everyone was so funny and somehow hammy played a part in helping me appreciate them a little more :) the sky's always stretches a little wider and is more beautiful when you are around. *smoochies*
yay my brother got moulin rouge and chicago dvds for me. *lols* im such a loser. MUSICALS!!
Thursday, February 03, 2005
found my H.I.class of 2002 vcd lying amidst the dust with my old cds. well, i couldnt resist watching it.
another one of those days i wished i could read chinese properly.
*tears* its funny how i spent 3 years with most of those guys, 4 years in that school.. and here i am after 2 years++ sitting in a country 32hrs by plane away taking in the crazy changes. of course, i didnt just watch 4A's little clip... it was enough to make my heart ache and wish those days never ended. the O'levels didnt bother me.. i wouldnt mind going back even if i had to go through all the sweaty afternoons and stress and bad fashion all over again. i watched 4C's too.. all this while remembering how miss neo died while i watch her exchange vows with her at that time brand new husband in the video. i never thought she was that pretty, but really, cliches aside, in her wedding dress, she glowed.
just seeing the girls, the lanky guys, beng, even the people from other classes in the vcd made me realise how much happened AMONGST us all. interweaving threads, undertows of fate. yea, i believe.
we were like little intangible blots of colour of present selves, glittering, pulsing, but inevitably shedded, left behind.
so many of them are either alread enlisted or waiting to go into university after 2 years of JC. sure, i learn in school(now) that society's catagorization is ACTUAlly insignificant to the automotic self, and we are merely brainwashed to see it as truly important. but heck, leaving a school may be merely an official date, surely we all still feel something.
talked to daryl the other day.. who said perhaps we jus didnt change that much after all. yes we do move from phase to phase, but surely there is a constancy within ourselves. perhaps.
no way i wil ever wear shorts/pants that are higher than my hipbones anytime soon, nor will my hair be that straight again unless i rebond it again.. my shoulders are not as narrow(acording to uncle david, yes well its not my fault i enjoy swimming and working out... :P) i have a waist and hips(no yay)now.. and im probably 80000% fatter. (gotta start that diet soon... or i wont fit into any of the chairs when i go backto singapore.. lols) yeah, i discovered many of my pet peeves, my interests, little itsy things about myself and the people around me that make so much difference. well. unbelievable. i wonder how older people feel.
they probably dont notice it, but singaporeans (forgive me for the stereotype again, but mostly chinese speaking ones)tend to pull out stereotypes and clichely enact it, finding it hilarious. i used to tihnk it was just embarassing and found the chinese channels unbearable to watch.. but now, meh, its all good.
there used to be so many things i feel ashamed of about my culture, the sloppiness, the lack of refinement in many areas, the disgusting stereotypes, u know, the usual things people like me feel. it just frustrated me further aware that i was part of it. yea, that purl syndrome still acts up once in a while.
.. BUT hey, singapore beats dubai in everyway possible ;). hahhaa
another one of those days i wished i could read chinese properly.
*tears* its funny how i spent 3 years with most of those guys, 4 years in that school.. and here i am after 2 years++ sitting in a country 32hrs by plane away taking in the crazy changes. of course, i didnt just watch 4A's little clip... it was enough to make my heart ache and wish those days never ended. the O'levels didnt bother me.. i wouldnt mind going back even if i had to go through all the sweaty afternoons and stress and bad fashion all over again. i watched 4C's too.. all this while remembering how miss neo died while i watch her exchange vows with her at that time brand new husband in the video. i never thought she was that pretty, but really, cliches aside, in her wedding dress, she glowed.
just seeing the girls, the lanky guys, beng, even the people from other classes in the vcd made me realise how much happened AMONGST us all. interweaving threads, undertows of fate. yea, i believe.
we were like little intangible blots of colour of present selves, glittering, pulsing, but inevitably shedded, left behind.
so many of them are either alread enlisted or waiting to go into university after 2 years of JC. sure, i learn in school(now) that society's catagorization is ACTUAlly insignificant to the automotic self, and we are merely brainwashed to see it as truly important. but heck, leaving a school may be merely an official date, surely we all still feel something.
talked to daryl the other day.. who said perhaps we jus didnt change that much after all. yes we do move from phase to phase, but surely there is a constancy within ourselves. perhaps.
no way i wil ever wear shorts/pants that are higher than my hipbones anytime soon, nor will my hair be that straight again unless i rebond it again.. my shoulders are not as narrow(acording to uncle david, yes well its not my fault i enjoy swimming and working out... :P) i have a waist and hips(no yay)now.. and im probably 80000% fatter. (gotta start that diet soon... or i wont fit into any of the chairs when i go backto singapore.. lols) yeah, i discovered many of my pet peeves, my interests, little itsy things about myself and the people around me that make so much difference. well. unbelievable. i wonder how older people feel.
they probably dont notice it, but singaporeans (forgive me for the stereotype again, but mostly chinese speaking ones)tend to pull out stereotypes and clichely enact it, finding it hilarious. i used to tihnk it was just embarassing and found the chinese channels unbearable to watch.. but now, meh, its all good.
there used to be so many things i feel ashamed of about my culture, the sloppiness, the lack of refinement in many areas, the disgusting stereotypes, u know, the usual things people like me feel. it just frustrated me further aware that i was part of it. yea, that purl syndrome still acts up once in a while.
.. BUT hey, singapore beats dubai in everyway possible ;). hahhaa
wow i slept so good last night.. but i think i moved alot unknowingly.. coz i woke up in a position i dont remember being in. haha.. hmm i want to go to the gym but im getting so bored of that placeee... not that im lazy to run or anything.. its just boring!! u know how u want the product of something but the process just toooo boringgg? 40 mins of running gets realllyyy boring after the first 15. :( i should go take up some sport or something.. or i go learn dancing! now, that would be funny.
haha just had breakfast and 2 games of chess with dawne while watching bad music videos. muahahahha i beat her both rounds!!! lols it was fun though.. we keep yelling at each other.. at the tv. :) a very excitable family indeed.
i have decided to be a pain and say "sure, why not" to everything dawne says. :D
DID EVERYONE HEAR? LAURA MY TA SENT ME AN APOLOGY EMAIL!! i cant believe it. just because she mixed me up with the viet girl sitting next to me.. well, we are the only oriental peoples in that class afteral.. *lols* shes so adorable. i tihnk if i ever write anything and need advice for anything english for all my time in york, im gonna go to her. should i reply her? i know i should... but WHAT DO I SAY??!!!! my hotmail window has been open for so long... hahaha..
From: Laura McLauchlan
To: pearle wan hua
Subject: Re: An apolOgy
Date: Wed, 02 Feb 2005 10:28:11 -0500
Hi Pearle,
I just wanted to apologize for confusing you and An in class two days ago. I
hope I didn't embarrass either of you. You are both good students. Your
essay on Cohen's poem was particularly impressive.
If you talked in seminar it would be helpful to me. Otherwise I get to know
you on paper, but not in the class. I know you have plenty of insights.
Once again my apologies.
Best, Laura
so far i only got this :
Hi Laura,
Don't worry about confusing An and me during class, i know we both didnt take it to heart :).
i am still working my way through the Wasteland. I do not know anything about the WWI and im finding difficulty relating it to the war.
... NNOW what else do i say??!
oh dammits, i owe tod an email with my outline too. *pales*
okok, shower time the study.
oh, btw, i want a coloured grand piano. am considering electric blue, pink, purple, pale green or red. hahaaa
haha just had breakfast and 2 games of chess with dawne while watching bad music videos. muahahahha i beat her both rounds!!! lols it was fun though.. we keep yelling at each other.. at the tv. :) a very excitable family indeed.
i have decided to be a pain and say "sure, why not" to everything dawne says. :D
DID EVERYONE HEAR? LAURA MY TA SENT ME AN APOLOGY EMAIL!! i cant believe it. just because she mixed me up with the viet girl sitting next to me.. well, we are the only oriental peoples in that class afteral.. *lols* shes so adorable. i tihnk if i ever write anything and need advice for anything english for all my time in york, im gonna go to her. should i reply her? i know i should... but WHAT DO I SAY??!!!! my hotmail window has been open for so long... hahaha..
From: Laura McLauchlan
To: pearle wan hua
Subject: Re: An apolOgy
Date: Wed, 02 Feb 2005 10:28:11 -0500
Hi Pearle,
I just wanted to apologize for confusing you and An in class two days ago. I
hope I didn't embarrass either of you. You are both good students. Your
essay on Cohen's poem was particularly impressive.
If you talked in seminar it would be helpful to me. Otherwise I get to know
you on paper, but not in the class. I know you have plenty of insights.
Once again my apologies.
Best, Laura
so far i only got this :
Hi Laura,
Don't worry about confusing An and me during class, i know we both didnt take it to heart :).
i am still working my way through the Wasteland. I do not know anything about the WWI and im finding difficulty relating it to the war.
... NNOW what else do i say??!
oh dammits, i owe tod an email with my outline too. *pales*
okok, shower time the study.
oh, btw, i want a coloured grand piano. am considering electric blue, pink, purple, pale green or red. hahaaa
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