I just finished writing my response paper for my Internal Assessment and I hated every moment of it.
I feel like such a fool, pretending to be all smart and stuff, at this University.
I have nothing original to contribute to the field of academics.
Worthless.
But on the other hand, I smoked three cigarettes today.
I like smoke.
I wish I could taste smoke in different colours.
My favourite would be purple.
Something gave me pleasure today.
I will not tell you what.
But it felt nice and I was taken aback while I remembered the old familiar feeling growing inside me.
I couldn't do anything but kept staring down, with a smile that seemed confused whether to break out or not.
But then I re-arranged my face and the day was saved.
Love is truly a wonderful thing.
Specially when it lasts forever, in your head.
Do you know flowers could fly?
Waves and Sand.
Hold an ocean in your hand.
I also had the chance of reading Kristeva today. She is this French Feminist - post-structuralist rather. And her notion of the Semiotic and the Symbolic- as in language as being masculine and feminine- was a nice little theory that interested me. Apparently, the pre-oedipal stage when the child is connected to the mother's body and the post-oedipal stage, after the child's birth, has something to do with the language that the child uses. The first stage is the semiotic, that is repressed by the symbolic. The symbolic is male and semiotic is female, but a writer can write semiotically too, like James Joyce, using fragmented speech and the stream-of-consciousness.
Okay, 3 a.m. is not the right time to be talking about all this and I must have muddled stuff up. Will try and do a reasonable post about this soon.
In the meantime- love me.
:)
I feel like such a fool, pretending to be all smart and stuff, at this University.
I have nothing original to contribute to the field of academics.
Worthless.
But on the other hand, I smoked three cigarettes today.
I like smoke.
I wish I could taste smoke in different colours.
My favourite would be purple.
Something gave me pleasure today.
I will not tell you what.
But it felt nice and I was taken aback while I remembered the old familiar feeling growing inside me.
I couldn't do anything but kept staring down, with a smile that seemed confused whether to break out or not.
But then I re-arranged my face and the day was saved.
Love is truly a wonderful thing.
Specially when it lasts forever, in your head.
Do you know flowers could fly?
Waves and Sand.
Hold an ocean in your hand.
I also had the chance of reading Kristeva today. She is this French Feminist - post-structuralist rather. And her notion of the Semiotic and the Symbolic- as in language as being masculine and feminine- was a nice little theory that interested me. Apparently, the pre-oedipal stage when the child is connected to the mother's body and the post-oedipal stage, after the child's birth, has something to do with the language that the child uses. The first stage is the semiotic, that is repressed by the symbolic. The symbolic is male and semiotic is female, but a writer can write semiotically too, like James Joyce, using fragmented speech and the stream-of-consciousness.
Okay, 3 a.m. is not the right time to be talking about all this and I must have muddled stuff up. Will try and do a reasonable post about this soon.
In the meantime- love me.
:)
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