a bump on my chest and a bump on my nerve

one of the courses i am taking now is called
"writing a life between two languages"
it's all about people who experience language crash
and unavoidably, culture crash
for they inhabit in two distinct places with two distinct cultures
experience the tear

what i mean about the tear is the process in which they feel lost and puzzled
as they are forced (though some of them claim that they are willing to)
to adapt to a whole new society
to acquire a new language that they were unfamiliar with

they have to undergo phases of isolation, being discriminated against, discovery and acknowledgement...

and it is after they have assimilated into the new world that they are now using the new language - English - to write this critical part of their life in English
they view their old self and comment
from the cruel, present angle
how unfair
(dont know why most of them embraces their present selves and are scornful of their little past. maybe it's because of the popularity and power of english?)

i have also been teared
not because of my being transformed or converted or the language problem (yet?)
but reading their work itself is tiring and exhausting enough

i thought i would love reading autobiographies
but the scent of self consciousness of the writer is so greatly spreading that
i, as the reader, cannot help being drawn into it
and has to adopt their way of thinking

not only thinking or destructing the piece of writing from their perspective
but also have i been forced to evaluate myself using their method of thinking back
i have become so conscious that i cannot live the easier way

self consciousness
is, it, is the tunnel through which people understand themselves better
and, then possibly sublime?.
do sublimation do us good in this world of anti-awakening?

language is much more than just fun or a tool or whatever
it can be dangerous and it can be fatal
it penetrates and dig into your identity and weakens and covers
cause
learning itself is forgetting
you have laid everything out in a split second when you know it too well
you lose the part of picking up and handing out
too automatic and instinctive
that it become an integral part of yourself
the language in you

kind of messy
it is the most direct flow

savour the magical moment as you pour the effervescent liquid, when things sublime

the aged reminisce
sigh
murmuring
time flies
beautifuls days of their 20s and 30s are too far to be reached
memory has faded
what they tell you are what they wish it would have been
the concrete words
the vivid crease

adults look back
cry and regret
saying
time flows
like uncatchable waves in a river
the current melts into a current
unstoppably directed to the ocean of immensity
like you and me running
disregarding the velocity
towards the finishing line
arms spread
breasts pushed
heads backed
limbs and fibres fatigued

me trying hard to recall
there are too many
trivials
and importants
like paper clips
and papers in piles
i
also
comment
time is not a funnel
neither is it
contained in the timer funnel
feel slow
drip fast
it does not drip at all
it flushes down
flushes me
my body my mentality
hold me on top

i feel uncomfortable switching inbetween
states of floating and sinking
magic of liquid

drink the elixir freeze the time

daily trivials

not sure if i am biased or unjust
preoccupied by my preassumption
so and too much emphasis on planet mars and venus
bizarre crash
row of my parents

not sure if i am withdrawn or unusual
perhaps i have been overly sensitive
so and too often have i dramatised you written word
atypically morose
lines of my friend

i send you my worry and
i mail you my care
i pose my indifference
what can i do

not sure if i am to take things up
prepared to expose or explode myself
so and too many good and great oppotunies to blind and occupy
chaotic and hummingly fussy

it's a weird world
it's the weirdest time

when the content is ignored and
way of delivery rules

Under the same piece of Blue, I found you

Lieber,

i was feeling uneasy and i was feeling difficult
heavy head, anaesthetised fingers
unable to write smooth and coherent sentences

buried in white pale paper assignments
and
soft and pale blue cotton bedsheet and blankets
want and about to throw up
it's nausea

i know i am the daydream and cynical type
at least my private self is
could not understand why everyone in the society speak so loud
and play so long
why dont they dream and think and search
for whatever
not serious things like meaning of life or whatsoever
but least like something else
out of their daily normal worldly encounter and rountine
please just do not magnify the microscopic

then i found you by chance
it's the randomness of life
by mere chance i found the thing you write
over the rim i found our shared sigh
over the rainbow i treddled and found a confidant
though inconfidable for we are physically apart
you are the kite i fly
the string is the wire that transmit our inner cry

Grusse,
joyce

realisation at 4 in the morning

entschuldigung, tsui tsui, ich habe Spanien aufgegeben. Ich finde Journalismus besser =)


hello! Heute ist Mittwoch, 3. 9. 08

it's been 5 days
and i still live in heidelberg

it's been 5 days
and i still suffer from insomnia
a piece of my heart has broken away and has flown to the paradise
my brain is still at all times underpowered
cannot function well due to the extended problem of jetlag

so i sleep at 4 and 2 and 4 and 3 in the morning
abnormally and unusually early in the morning

last night i was talking with my sister my ambitious plan
german and spanish
the former i have already set and am running on the track
from scrap, 4 month's time

the latter i tried and halted and retried
unwilling to give up
had once been so and too confident
fear to make it the duplicate of my piano dream

but i am incapable
so withdrawn during the spanish lesson
with german words and grammar and deutschen und alles
exhibiting, displaying, like jumping and exploding fireworks, in my mind

christ, how
jesus, wie

so that was the time when whoever
suggested the otherwise
lit my hidden intention to quit
i "spit the rice"
"well, you are right" acting and suppressing my excitment and eagerness
worries fading out
excuses become too proper and appropriate, politically correct reasons
"well, i quit"

i have the confidence of passing my 4th language course
but i dont feel like acquiring my 4th language

4 in the morning
brain at sleep mode
subconsciousness lead
i let my heart lead my head

i wish i have made the right decision
adios