a l l i e

"Who I am and what I want are a secret."

So one day, I just decided...

"Perhaps I would do Linguistics after I graduate from my current degree course,"

It simply a thought that I had in mind at first, and to be honest, I was thinking of doing that before I came across mass comm. and journalism. Sure, it probably has a lot to do on writing (perhaps not the kind of writing that I enjoy) but it has language as its main element and I would love it.

Yes, yes, I have doubts too. Knowing me, I would probably find something else more interesting than the other and would end up switching to that. But for now, as I am still studying and teaching in my former tuition centre, I would like to think that getting a Masters in Linguistics would be the most probable solution to this strange-like heartache I have in me.

Now this raises another question; I call it 'heartache'. Why, one would wonder?

Maybe it was not the right term to use, yet, I feel it that way especially when I look at my students. As you all know, I am currently tutoring Std. 2, 3, 4, Form 1, Form 5, a Reading Class, and an Adult English class. And yes, you guessed it. They're all English.

This aching feeling was born when I saw how these children are struggling to grasp the language and to gain full understanding of it. At times, I find myself teaching them past tense and present tense when they should be able to automatically detect what and how. The worst for them would probably be on constructing sentences. Even at the age of...17 (Form 5s, the highest school education level before tertiary kicks in), they are still unable to construct a proper sentence.

Those who had it good in the past would probably be sailing calmly at this level. But these children, these teenagers, these adults...they are still struggling. No, this is not the case of being stubborn about sticking to Malay and not speaking English. This, my fellow readers, is the case of inferiority, the loss of confidence, and fear of failure. After all, who in this world enjoys showing everyone their weakness?

And I find that it is my sole responsibility to teach them, to bring that friendly subject known as English back to them, to make them come out of their shells and stand up with confidence. True, I can never make the horse drink the water, but the least I could do is make them taste it and to tell its texture before completely denying it.

And I believe that I could do this by solely focusing on Linguistics, particularly English, in this matter. Nay, I shan't do TESL (Teaching English as a Second Language). I believe getting in the root of the problem and solving it from bottom to top would be the best way. Hence, Linguistics.

But.......

First and foremost, look out for...SOC MEDIA CARNIVAL '09!

COMING BACK TO YOU IN OCTOBER!

And with that, I bid thee my fondest farewells, my fellow readers.

The room was dimly lit by a single lightbulb that hung from the ceiling. But even in that dimness, one could still note that the room was practically empty of furnitures. You would probably expect a bed or a couch, but the room was empty of it.

Save but a simple wooden chair, where a male mannequin was tied to it.

She paced back and forth in the room, thinking of the proper words to say. To be honest, she was holding back this deep anger welling up from inside her. How it came to be there, she knew, but how it got so deep, she knew not.

"Fine, FINE," the girl turned to the mannequin and grabbed it by the shoulders, glaring at it straight in the eye, "You listen here and you listen good,"

The mannequin gave no response, as expected. But she went on.

"I...I've been keeping this in me for so goddamn long, but today, really, today was the last straw," the girl said, "I won't let anything else interfere my thoughts right now,"

She took a deep breath, and began her sentences:

"All these while, all these goddamn while, I've hardly ever said no to you. Perhaps there were times, but I had no choice. I would suppose you would too, but I notice...I notice that when such things happen, I would really try to push the limit. You know," she shrugged a little, "Sacrifice a little here and there,"

The mannequin only stared at her with its wooden eyes.

"And when I do things for you, I do it because I wanted to. Spare some time, go through some troubles just to do that, and sacrifice something, be it my money or my 'solitude' time. I would do that, just for you, and you know that," she sighed, "But...but damn! You...you can be so bloody selfish sometime! Just so...so you, you, and you,"

The girl pushed the mannequin away from her, watching it fall with the chair.

"I mean, I know, I do that too. Like right now, you know? And for once, I want to be fucking selfish too and tell you EVERYTHING," she stomped her foot, "I love you, goddamnit, but that's just one part of me that says it. The other half just feels like giving you one big punch in the face and tell you to grow up! Be more like a gentleman! A...a...GAH!"

She kicked the chair.

"I never, at the very least, try to trouble you. The only thing I ever ask of you would be just that very one thing that you dread. Perhaps dread, maybe it was something else. Maybe because you have your worries too, for your own safety. But for god's sake, that is the only thing I ever ask of you. Did I ever ask you for money? Did I ever ask you to go to some...some faraway place and acquire something for me, for my sake? Did I ever ask you to trouble yourself?"

The girl kicked the chair again; "Did I!?"

"I'm frustrated. I'm angry. I'm tired. And I sometimes wish I could be more braver to tell you this in person, but whenever I see you, I just can't," she looked down and began to chuckle, "I smile. I say that 'I'm all right' even though deep down inside, I'm welling up in anger, frustration, disappointment. I just have to put that mask, the very same mask that I wear everytime this happens, and go along with it,"

And from beyond the darkness, a tall man approached from behind her.

"Yet you could never tell him," he said in his solemn voice.

She watched the mannequin on the floor, and hung her head low in guilt; "No. No, I could never,"

The man stood next to her and followed her eyes, "Then why do you stay?"

There was a brief moment of silence, like a thoughtful one. And then a sigh; "Because I love him so dearly. Because I depend on him. Because I need him,"

- - - - - - - - - -

O.O

Damn, this was one heckuva prose.

o.o

Eh, *shrugs* can't write more. My class is starting soon. Till next time, fellow readers.

Why do people do the things they do?

Every day, every second, every moment in life, there will always be someone who tells you to follow your heart when you do something. Yes, of course, sometimes it is the right thing to do. But follow it to much without consulting your rational thoughts, and you might just end up doing something really really stupid.

Then again, humans are peculiar like that.

They would be willing to throw themselves into danger, to destroy their very sanity, to waste away their life; all for the sake of that one goal they desperately try to reach. Like most things in this world, those goals can never be reached. Yet, they still try.

My question, again, is this: why?

Why do we always always do the things we do?

*sigh*

Well, college has begun and I am busy once more. But to be honest, I'm more busy with my online game than anything else.

*chuckles* Yes, it seems that this is addiction.

At any rate, this blog is NOT dead! I am just...trying to get my brain to work its gears again. It went from running engine to...dead. Not too worry, I am currently writing a proper piece for my next entry.

But for now, this little post is just to inform you that this blog is still alive.

Until then, await my next post (if you still have the patience for it, that is).