On the street of San Francisco (Taken with Instagram)
" A girl can't read that sort of thing without her lipstick. "
I enjoy being different, don't you?
My point of view (1)
My point of view
We were talking, by the beach. Instinctively, moments were captured through his brilliant lens. HYU.
The thing I’m most afraid of is me. Of not knowing what I’m going to do. Of not knowing what I’m doing right now.
In my dream, time stopped
The earth ground slowly to a halt
And all sound and light vanished
When I woke up the next day
The world was still there
And things were already moving forward
Not stopping, for anyone
It’s hard to sleep when you’re too busy thinking about the things you wish to forget.
So last week was intense. It’s the start of uni coupled by my degree’s programme induction, orientation camp, dissertation lectures and some overdue partying. Can you imagine all the stress and tension building up when the first hour of my first lecture was all about how to write a dissertation, how much the dissertation contributes to your final marks and when it’s due. Concurrently, everybody was fitting in and the social topic “where are you from?” was brought up among students in the lecture hall. Interestingly, my prof is a rather liberal lad with really strong literature background be it in the field of fiction, plays, poets or academic. And according to him, we are all academics, the dissertation is our literature, we ought to love our literature, think about it everyday and possibly, fall in love and feel inspired by it. Tough.
Apart from all the pressure, I snipped two inches of my hair off, got a new dye job, bought yet another trilogy. Murakami’s 1Q84. I’ve always loved reading incessantly.