![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Aug. 6th, 2006
a punch up at a wedding
Aug. 6th, 2006 05:07 pmHave you ever typed on a laptop? The Fujitsu I'm using now has delightfully springing keys - a solid difference from the hard-hitting keys of the Microsoft keyboard I'm used to. I'm looking for a change, new keys to type on, a new cursor to point the direction of wherever I'm heading. I need to inject some spring, a little bit of back-lighting, a little bit of sudden motion sensors just to help me along the way. Afterall, I can't make it on my own.
After an hour with Offred and Chapter Seven in cricket-filled LT2, I just thought to myself, how I wish this could be over.
Problem is, I don't know what 'this' is.
Consultation with JTan was helpful, to say the least. My exuberance is overpowering. Overshadows whatever point I'm trying to make - my writing reflects my personality: I speak before I think. Hence the horrible, tortured expression. While I have to continue to be true to myself, I need to correct this bug within me, to go waxing lyrical - completely incoherent mind you - about pop culture topics.
I need constancy in my life, I need control over it. I need to grab it firmly by the head, not the tail, and tell it "you are under my control now". Psychosis Jean Grey style.
"You need to limit your witticisms to at least two per essay, and try to keep your comprehension free of them."
I understand, I comprehend fully.
Haha, at least I'm vaguely regarded as being witty, if nothing else at all. But yes, trying to be clever all the time does act as a death knell for my otherwise decent English standard. I need to stop Newpaper/Trashy Tabloid and switch back to Straits Times/Wall Street Journal.
Ouch, I just electrocuted myself on my mum's Fujitsu. Sharp jolts back into reality.
My history outlines are beside me, waiting to be started on, waiting to be finished.
I have my GP mock exam tomorrow. Big time showdown. MORTAL KOMBAT THUS ENSUES! But yeah, tomorrow is the first time I get to tell myself "stay away from pop culture references for the next month in GP - you need to keep away from those trigger happy GP examiners back in England". Hoo boy, I've got it in for me. I'm popculturegurl of the 21st Century and then some.
Self-restraint, as Marlow puts in. Ah, I'm travelling in the heart of Darkness and I need work to keep myself from sucuumbing to whatever evils that lie ahead.
Hard Candy was insightful. ( spoilers? )
Dinner is calling me. Cannibalism of sorts... I am Hannibalicia afterall. But yes, I feel rather dead. Rather muted. You can tell. I want my own keyboard with springy keys.
EDIT:
Eh. Kenna whacked by my dad for the shit my hard-drive is in. Oh well. It really is time to get a new notebook. Hahaha, even in MS-DOS mode the C-drive couldn't be read at all! D:
Recommendations?
After an hour with Offred and Chapter Seven in cricket-filled LT2, I just thought to myself, how I wish this could be over.
Problem is, I don't know what 'this' is.
Consultation with JTan was helpful, to say the least. My exuberance is overpowering. Overshadows whatever point I'm trying to make - my writing reflects my personality: I speak before I think. Hence the horrible, tortured expression. While I have to continue to be true to myself, I need to correct this bug within me, to go waxing lyrical - completely incoherent mind you - about pop culture topics.
I need constancy in my life, I need control over it. I need to grab it firmly by the head, not the tail, and tell it "you are under my control now". Psychosis Jean Grey style.
"You need to limit your witticisms to at least two per essay, and try to keep your comprehension free of them."
I understand, I comprehend fully.
Haha, at least I'm vaguely regarded as being witty, if nothing else at all. But yes, trying to be clever all the time does act as a death knell for my otherwise decent English standard. I need to stop Newpaper/Trashy Tabloid and switch back to Straits Times/Wall Street Journal.
Ouch, I just electrocuted myself on my mum's Fujitsu. Sharp jolts back into reality.
My history outlines are beside me, waiting to be started on, waiting to be finished.
I have my GP mock exam tomorrow. Big time showdown. MORTAL KOMBAT THUS ENSUES! But yeah, tomorrow is the first time I get to tell myself "stay away from pop culture references for the next month in GP - you need to keep away from those trigger happy GP examiners back in England". Hoo boy, I've got it in for me. I'm popculturegurl of the 21st Century and then some.
Self-restraint, as Marlow puts in. Ah, I'm travelling in the heart of Darkness and I need work to keep myself from sucuumbing to whatever evils that lie ahead.
Hard Candy was insightful. ( spoilers? )
Dinner is calling me. Cannibalism of sorts... I am Hannibalicia afterall. But yes, I feel rather dead. Rather muted. You can tell. I want my own keyboard with springy keys.
EDIT:
Eh. Kenna whacked by my dad for the shit my hard-drive is in. Oh well. It really is time to get a new notebook. Hahaha, even in MS-DOS mode the C-drive couldn't be read at all! D:
Recommendations?