I sat here for awhile, thinking about how I should have started my post. Wrote a couple of words, deleted them. Wrote again, and backspaced again.
This notion of self-censoring my thoughts, am I afraid of letting people how I truly feel?
In actual fact, I'm feeling a little alone. More than a little if you dig deeper. I miss home, but I don't want to sound like a brat who keeps wailing about how she misses everything back home, because I want to be here. I chose to be here. I will need to adjust to being here. And also because if this tendency to whine continues on, I might as well have not decided to fly off in the first place, y'know what I mean?
Haven't talked to the 'rents in a couple of days via Skype, so maybe that's what brought on the melancholia. The connection seriously sucks, and I keep getting cut off, and I get so frustrated sometimes because I just want to say what I'm feeling, but then I'm not sure if they are receiving it on the other end... Ugh, technology really should be more advanced here in Australia.
And also, I think I might have to be more outspoken in tutorials. I don't want to lose out - so many things are on the line for me to do well here. It's crazy. If I wasn't too fussed about it, I would have just gone to NTU. So many ifs.
The self-pity might also be because I just finished watching Harry Potter today. Deathly Hallows Part 2 - IT ALL ENDS. How foreboding. I had high hopes for this one, I'll admit it. I bet anyone would have had high expectations. Acting-wise, it was brilliant. Everyone played their part well. But so many things were left out. Tiny details maybe, but it affected the whole experience for me. I honestly think so... Not so much a problem if it wasn't the last one of the series, but it was and the word to sum it all up was - underwhelming. The deaths of Lupin and Tonks, of Fred and Snape, even Voldemort... all were treated with such shallow undertaking. It was more epic when I was reading it, imagining the whole scenario.
And I suppose that is one thing visuals can never ever compete with - that is, the imagination. I would assume that everyone's mind thinks differently, and thus when reading the same text, would come up with various versions of how the scene went down. I wouldn't want to know any of that. What is precious is my own version, and how I can keep that alive. The mind is such a beautiful, complex object of our body. How through words, we construct mental images of grandeur and tranquility, of vulnerability and sadness... emotions also seem to be pulled into the picture there.
10 years. It's been a long ride, and I guess in 19 years, this will all be remade again, and hopefully, they will do a better job of it.
Labels: harry potter, life, reflection
The conversation's getting stale
If you won't point it out, then I will