This writing thing has taken a toll on me! I have got no little devilish idea at all as to what to write and to top it up, I have lost count of the numerous attempts I have tried writing for the past two weeks. I don’t like blocks – they upset me terribly! I am left here to calm myself down (Chill … Trapt …. Chill …) because Mel is sitting next to me putting dots on her oversized hand drawn version of a plant cell (I think). I asked her what it is and she gave me the ‘are you telling me you don’t know what a monocot is?’ look, putting my already low self-esteem – some friend! Of course I don’t know what a monocot is, I’m not a science student and I do not learn about little parts of a plant, do I? Apparently, according to Mel, I’ve learnt that in high school. Hmmm…

This I believe, is what happens when one has long, insufferable blocks – you start writing, well, … you start writing – nonsense.

I know I should have written sooner and I am terribly sorry I hadn’t (well, maybe not terribly sorry …). But, when you have blocks, you have blocks and it’s difficult to unblock the blocks. You see, writing is a creative process and you cannot just unblock a mind block like you unblock the toilet – it doesn’t work the same way (unfortunately). So, I am left with the little advice Blake Edwards gave – ‘the key to writing is not to stop’ and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do – I am continuing and continuing and not letting myself stop as Mr. Edwards has suggested while making a rather pathetic attempt to unblock my little mind.

Note to self: Do not stop writing.

While I was home for the past two weeks, I made it a point to throw out some of the things I have left on the book shelves. I found one of my old notebooks I used to use back in high school. I’ve never quite noticed this but notebooks are always good guides to a younger image of one self.

Note to self: Delete when mind’s unblock again.

Good effort, I believe. I’ll continue the healing/unblocking process again at a more convenient time. Till then, cheerio.


I can’t believe I’m posting this.

[[ music ]] Buble's Save the Last Dance For Me
[[ mood ]] blah

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Apparently, while I am here making attempts to treat what seems to me now an almost improbably eliminable disease – mind blocks, everyone else seems to be suffering from similar problems. It appears to me that even the most frequent writers are not updating. I guess it does make one feel more comforting to know one is not alone in this lonely world. I do suppose there now leaves much lesser room for you to protest my infrequent updates.

I have been reminded (repeatedly) by lecturers that our first paper is in exactly five weeks time. It does seem to me now that they appear less and less distressed about our grades this time around. I have come to a conclusion that it is most likely a result of our indifference towards what has been told to us rather than the actual fall in the failing rate in class. Apparently, the decrease in the number of students failing and the increase in the class average score do not thrill them. It was put rather blatantly to us that our class remains the class with the highest failing rate. I have come to believe that we feel just as little if not less as the lecturers do about our pitiable scores. Hmmm ….

Then again, the recurring warning cum threat that I am now exposed to is beginning to be a little more intimidating than I would normally allow. I do suppose this is the main and most likely cause of my blocks. Perhaps, in the midst of my revisions about the Auld Review, Shakespeare and Fisher’s Theory of Money (I think that’s what they call it), my mind would be unblocked. But, seriously, how probable is that?

It was made public today that my essay on Shakespeare’s The Comedy of Errors is the worst of the four essays I have written for my examination. Another compelling reason as to why I am beginning to have a serious distaste for that play. Just as I was beginning to learn to show miniature affection towards the play, it has to be the one that pull my scores down. Things like this always happen to me. I wonder, in my wonderings, why people have ceased to believe the possibility to the notion that I have been cursed by an evil witch that I swear on my great, great, great, great grandmother’s (I happen to have the misfortune of not knowing who she is) grave has been out to get me since the day I step foot at college. Certainly, I am not saying that I have not felt that way before this but such feelings are far more intense lately and I am now more assured of the odds to that. And, don’t you in your right mind dare say I’m being paranoid.

I walked along the corridors of the third floor today only to be greeted by a friend with a ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ – some friend! Such treasured expressions of endearment can only be accepted from an acquaintance you know (for sure) you could have expressed your happiness in a similar way! Well, certainly, I would prefer a more customary greeting in the morning like ‘Good day’ or ‘Good morning’ or ‘Cheerio’ but I suppose that’s not her way of saying ‘it’s good to see you again.’ Teens nowadays have such an unusual manner of showing affection!


Cheerio.

[[ music ]] Blunt's Tears & Rain
[[ mood ]] sleepy

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It struck my mind today in that ...

I want to see Dai club, get drunk and dance.

Cheerio.

[[ music ]] Singing in the Rain
[[ mood ]] bored

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