Distraction, the Chronic

I’m troubled with indescribable distraction now. Been at work for more than eight hours, nevertheless, I’ve done nothing. I could not concentrate on my work at all. If you ask what makes me so, I cannot tell. Maybe I know it, maybe don’t. Now and then, distraction from various reasons interrupts my work and it has been usually psychological kind. If not the kind, I would deal with it somehow. The heartless foe of my mind, though, I cannot help. These days, distraction seems to become a chronic symptom upon my mind and it drives me feel like insane. Save. . .

Brit…
(Don't stick to anything, just let it be and flow!)

The Pathetic of November

Getting cold it is! We are stepping on winter days indeed. This morning I wore my new long boots with leggings in it and the GO-CCE brand boots were very comfortable. I think the boots was good choice, and I like it.

Cold wind slapped on my skin, but the smell of early winter air touched my feeling. I like the smell of November with its frequent darkness, its dreary winds, and the rolling fallen leaves on the ground. I suddenly realise that November, my dearest month which often reminds me of Wuthering Heights and Heathcliff, is about to leave. Though it provokes some grievous pathology in me now and then, I dearly love the season of November. To my sorry, I could not be fully immersed in this pathetic season, however. My current life doesn’t let me deep inside it and I don’t know whether it’s good or bad.

Time is constantly passing as ever, adding years on me. It makes me sad that I’m no longer someone’s romantic object, though I always dream of it. Of course, I know it would be a fantasy (even a delusion?) or emotional cupidity to think romanticism at my age, but I cannot easily give of my dream (even if it’s just an illusion) to the years till I die. I would be still dreaming when I become a grandmother. Is it really absurd that I want to be myself as a certain romantic being? Is it impossible for P to look at me such a way? If I want it, am I greedy? Sometimes P and I are talking at cross-purposes, that is, I talk of chalk and P talks of cheese. It makes me sadder.

Brit…

In Relation to My Dissertation

I didn't tremble before the judges at the examination and my heart didn't drum at all. Just been sceptical, for a moment I thought I wanted to stop here.

I know my voice is very distinct/resolute and eloquent as they say. 'The strong subjective I' is my merit as well as my defect and I recognise it. My writing is sometimes so stubborn that I cannot accept any modification against my will. Maybe it's a kind of undeniable bigotry and knowing it is that makes me concede others’ advices/comments at times.

My writing style is always much different from the conventional which used to be demanded by our academic atmosphere. In many cases, I tread on the line between the required and the rejected. Now and then it becomes a sly strategy by me. The conventional or the stereotyped is absolutely not my style, but I've enough compromised with the convention till now, I think. ‘The more’ is really hard for me, almost impossible. I cannot change my attitude anymore, rather properly speaking, I don't want to.

(Written on 18 November, 2010)
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I think I confront with deadlock. I tried to modify my dissertation as a whole according to the judges' comments and all day long I've been digging into it, but I couldn't make head or tail of it. I even didn’t know where I start. My own structure seemed to be so firm that anything could not interrupt in it. I myself could not break any corner of it and I really wanted to stop here. From in the afternoon I started to cry. I couldn’t control my tears. Sobbed my eyes out, they became bloody tumid and inflamed. I think my pride is too tenacious to concede easily.

(Written on 19 November, 2010)
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Not only my eyes but also my face was swollen due to long sobbing and I could not go out for a couple of days.

Away from work, I needed time to think if I can compromise with the conventional writing. How can I do it, the thing I don’t want to do? Anyway, I have to make something out in three weeks, which something harmonise judges' demands with mine. Or, I'd give up, even though it would be terrible sorry for me. I don't want to let myself—my writing, my shadow in it and my style fade away, even if it's wrong.

(Written on 21 November, 2010)
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Now I’m trying again.

Brit…

The First Exam on my Diss.

In the afternoon—some moments later, I’ll have my dissertation examined by five judges. It is the first of the processing, the scheduled three times’ examinations. I've prepared much and done my best in writing it and so have confidence in me and my work. Nevertheless, I’m slyly strained because I know all the judges usually try to find probable fault or defect somehow, whatever it appears. My judging professors consist of one woman from the department of English Education and four men including my supervisor—our college’s Dean. Two of them are separately from other universities, one of whom is from Sookmyung Women’s University in Seoul. I don't know much about the two guest judges and maybe that’s one of the reasons which make me feel particular nervousness.

This morning I played the child to P in a mail, making a fuss about my emotional state. Perhaps he chuckled at my exaggeration, but I needed nerves-soothing even though with flattery. It seemed to me that some sweet talk from P could help me relax. Of course, I could/can deal with it myself without a soother and definitely P would know it, too. I want him pat me on the back tenderly with smiling greenish eyes, though. I know it’s totally impossible thing now! Today he would not come here till evening, and I would go out for dinner with the judges after the examination.

Brit. . .

Consuming Emotion

(Written on 14 Nov. in the early afternoon)

I’m trying to elevate my mood but not easy as always, especially for today. Meddling in Michael’s work, the more I struggle to be jolly, the wider vacuum I feel in my heart as ever. My emotion has consumed too much and I wonder how much it remains. Uncountable error set my life on fire into ashes and now I’m too tired to defend myself any longer.

What can I say and what shall I do? Where do I have to draw a line between all the two—between life/dream or reality/fantasy, or us? Once I thought I did somewhere, soon it blurred. I repeatedly draw it following after blurring. I’m constantly doing the useless thing. How far can my dream—maybe fantasy or imagination penetrate into my reality? Even can it be done? Though getting older, still I often stick to impossibility, which is any kind of. Perhaps more and more I become insane.

I think I’ll have to efface all of my history, particularly about relationships. It seems that I didn’t remove any of them yet. The eraser in my head is always working wrong on confusing its stuffs, must-be-erased and must-not-be-erased. It pushes me at a loss perplexed between remembering and forgetting.

Brit…

Pushkin's Nonsense

I’ve struggled with slyly wicked evils of life all the year round. This year has particularly demanded my deadly fighting. I’ve been repeatedly disappointed with so many things/situation of mine as well as of others. Whenever I confronted with such a deadlock, I had to deal with all by myself and for myself. I know the human is originally alone but, nevertheless, I used to expect someone for sharing my emotion, not my burden but just emotion. I shouldn’t have assumed such an attitude, but was it so wrong? I doubt I have to still stand upon the Pushkin’s nonsense.


What though life conspire to cheat you,
Do not sorrow or complain.
Lie still on the day of pain,
And the day of joy will greet you.

Hearts live in the coming day.
There’s an end to passing sorrow.
Suddenly all flies away,
And delight returns tomorrow.


Brit…

Exhaustion

It suddenly came up her mind that it was not the matter of “difficulty”. It just means "beyond concern", that is, "didn’t want to do". She shouldn’t have asked that way. ('not-liked', 'not-cared about', I absolutely do not like it. That's not my way.)

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Yesterday’s seminar was good. I did my work well. Prepared much and ready to be criticised, but there’s no criticisms, instead, encouragement and some comments. I’ll go further on my way. The first examination day is 18th November.

Today, I came to office and feel some exhausted. I should have rest, but I had lunch appointment. Wrote to Wallace in the morning and have suffered from sickness caused by headache.

Now I’m watching Grand Prix figure-skating competition in China on the internet. Beautiful ice-dancing performances and Vasily’s commentary [from Russian N-TV] with his uniquely cynical voice ease my mind. I wish Tomáš Verner do his best in Men-singles competition. Tomáš is the only one I’m both of whose fan and whose friend. It’ll start at 18:25 in Beijing time after Ladies-singles competition. It’s hard for me to watch carefully Tomáš’s competition and I have to hold my breath with storm-like heartbeats because I like him so much.

Brit…