#007 I've just noticed - your eyes match the spinach in your teeth
[EDIT] OMG! My article is out on the JaME blog! I wanted to write about the Beatles AND Japanese music and here's what I came up with! It's called Japanese Flavoured Beatles XDDD (It's not so bad now especially since it had gone through some heavy editing by anna, my colleague at JaME :P)
Finally I managed to find sometime to sit down and write something. I apologize, I was... occupied. >__>
If were to fill you in of what has happened the time since last I wrote here, I could write a bloody book. And as for how I FELT about what had happened the last I wrote you, my psychiatrist could write a book AND a sequel. ARGHHH. I have also lost my ability to spell and write sentences, much less coherently.
I started my new medication on Tuesday night. I am officially bipolar! Whoopsie! But I have never been comfortable with labels :P I was prescribed lithium carbonate which you very well know is a mood stabilizer, along with a few other downers in case I was functioning on my high periods again. Anyway, thing is, last Wednesday didn't happen to me. I actually lost Wednesday. To the point that, when Thursday occurred, I thought it was Friday but convinced myself that it was Thursday and it actually is but at the same time still thinking it was Friday. I hope you catch my meaning. Believe me, I was confused. I also missed my Poetry class on Wednesday which pissed me off because that's the only class I actually enjoy at the moment. I had two assignment papers due on Tuesday which I thought I'd hand in on Wednesday but I spent all of Wednesday in bed very drowsy from meds and sleeping so I ended handing in my essays on Thursday which I thought was Friday. Believe me, I was utterly befuddled, as much as Stephen Fry in new shiny userpic. *facebalm*
As for the assignment, the one for Narrative: Fiction & Film was utter rubbish -- I really bollocksed that one up trying to justify 'films are never totally realistic'. The one for Understanding Poetry was nothing short of brilliant though :D I needed to do a stylistic and thematic analysis of a poem and I chose Dylan Thomas' Do not go gentle into that good night. I actually went above the 1000 word limit. I love that poem, it made me cry the first time I heard it read aloud. I will actually get very upset if I don't get a really good grade for this essay.
Remember my concussion, that I mentioned in passing on my birthday post that happened the day before? On Friday, as soon as class ended (disastrously, as I had no chance to do my readings due to disorientation, stupid really, I should have read Conrad's Heart of Darkness years ago) I came home and, lo and behold! Letters! Invoices! For me! From St John Ambulance and the Department of Health, Australia. Kind old St John wants me to pay him $738 for ambulance costs. Fremantle Hospital wants $1312 for 'accommodation costs'; as well as $156 for 'outpatient visit. You can imagine my shock, escpecially where I come free health is free; and furthermore, how did they think a student such as I could afford this kind of money? Hey Australia, you've already overcharged us with university fees and besides, isn't having us international students studying here what, the third or fourth biggest revenue of Australia or something like that? These invoices really frightened me, I was shit-scared for the whole weekend because I could not afford to pay such a large sum. On Monday, thankfully I met my OSHC (Overseas Health Cover) representative and she was very understanding. She took all my paperwork and told me not to worry. bless her socks.
Anyway, a few other things happened, but not worth the note. I'll end this entry with Dylan Thomas' poem that I spoke of before. I got this from Poets.Org, I highly recommend, visiting there, as you can hear the poems be recited too.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Finally I managed to find sometime to sit down and write something. I apologize, I was... occupied. >__>
If were to fill you in of what has happened the time since last I wrote here, I could write a bloody book. And as for how I FELT about what had happened the last I wrote you, my psychiatrist could write a book AND a sequel. ARGHHH. I have also lost my ability to spell and write sentences, much less coherently.
I started my new medication on Tuesday night. I am officially bipolar! Whoopsie! But I have never been comfortable with labels :P I was prescribed lithium carbonate which you very well know is a mood stabilizer, along with a few other downers in case I was functioning on my high periods again. Anyway, thing is, last Wednesday didn't happen to me. I actually lost Wednesday. To the point that, when Thursday occurred, I thought it was Friday but convinced myself that it was Thursday and it actually is but at the same time still thinking it was Friday. I hope you catch my meaning. Believe me, I was confused. I also missed my Poetry class on Wednesday which pissed me off because that's the only class I actually enjoy at the moment. I had two assignment papers due on Tuesday which I thought I'd hand in on Wednesday but I spent all of Wednesday in bed very drowsy from meds and sleeping so I ended handing in my essays on Thursday which I thought was Friday. Believe me, I was utterly befuddled, as much as Stephen Fry in new shiny userpic. *facebalm*
As for the assignment, the one for Narrative: Fiction & Film was utter rubbish -- I really bollocksed that one up trying to justify 'films are never totally realistic'. The one for Understanding Poetry was nothing short of brilliant though :D I needed to do a stylistic and thematic analysis of a poem and I chose Dylan Thomas' Do not go gentle into that good night. I actually went above the 1000 word limit. I love that poem, it made me cry the first time I heard it read aloud. I will actually get very upset if I don't get a really good grade for this essay.
Remember my concussion, that I mentioned in passing on my birthday post that happened the day before? On Friday, as soon as class ended (disastrously, as I had no chance to do my readings due to disorientation, stupid really, I should have read Conrad's Heart of Darkness years ago) I came home and, lo and behold! Letters! Invoices! For me! From St John Ambulance and the Department of Health, Australia. Kind old St John wants me to pay him $738 for ambulance costs. Fremantle Hospital wants $1312 for 'accommodation costs'; as well as $156 for 'outpatient visit. You can imagine my shock, escpecially where I come free health is free; and furthermore, how did they think a student such as I could afford this kind of money? Hey Australia, you've already overcharged us with university fees and besides, isn't having us international students studying here what, the third or fourth biggest revenue of Australia or something like that? These invoices really frightened me, I was shit-scared for the whole weekend because I could not afford to pay such a large sum. On Monday, thankfully I met my OSHC (Overseas Health Cover) representative and she was very understanding. She took all my paperwork and told me not to worry. bless her socks.
Anyway, a few other things happened, but not worth the note. I'll end this entry with Dylan Thomas' poem that I spoke of before. I got this from Poets.Org, I highly recommend, visiting there, as you can hear the poems be recited too.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.