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