我正在食自己炒的米粉
望住最後一版要填的表格
當看到已經是一點多
突然又記得自己體型又在不必要地增長中
跟住就同自己講
(我發現的愈來愈多自言自語)
考完今個星期的試
去做運動!
Swim and jog!
不能被老朋友叫作肥師奶呀
不過說這些話時我好像忘了
還有除考試之外的很多要理
好像已經很久未做專程去做什麼運動
幸好自己還是年青啊
身體有條件去被荒廢
雖沒痛沒痛
但食無定時
而且除周未之外都是食方便不必煮的"食物"
菜不多, 不過肉也不多
而多的有
Cheese, ham, pizza, noodles, chips....
哈
我連專門用來飲水的那隻本人極心愛, 別人送的杯子
也被我室友上星期不小心打破了
不是沒有其他杯
不過是沒心情飲水罷了
最令別人受不了但又驚嘆的
卻是我的睡眠習慣
我絕對是可以在有必要時要自己
三天之中每天睡四個小時
之後再昏迷不醒二十個鐘
之後又不用睡一天(一天之中睡太多)
再回復正常--
假如我有正常過
算一算
如果每天都睡八小時
四天就是三十二小時
我的前四天加起上來也是呀!
不過如果某天我去世了
我猜仍然一定會有人說
"她的慢性自殺成功了!"
食完炒粉的我已經在食荔枝
還有三顆
食完之後又要回去我的煩惱之中....
不過為了報答大家來看這篇
純綷為了感覺像有人在陪我食野而作的無聊之作
送上兩篇
Vocabulary stories
供大家飯後欣賞
本人認為這兩篇文章
絕對是以下意念的很好例子:
當一篇文章沒有什麼值得一看的內容的時候
就會出現很多高深的詞彙語句
而一篇百看不厭的文章
就不必要這種技兩來顯示實力
不過當然也可能是本人未明白到太深的文章
才不喜歡它們罷了
想起今天某人竟在小女子面前
公開稱讚其他人的英文水平
而且說什麼英文好的一定不是我
其實我也不是說自己好
只是我在文字語言上的努力
多少也不至於要被看不起吧?
所以一定要再好好重整一下自己的實力
希望可以減少有被更多其他人刻意貶抑的可能出現
其實可以用作貶低我之用的方面有很多
可以令我被眨成怎樣也服的有:
我的數學頭腦, 衣著, 學歷, 中文打字能力, 身家, 平時(只是平時!)的舉止談吐等..
不過有些事我卻一定不會服
而且我會覺得很有理由
不過不是那麼多人真正接觸過那一面
因為如果不是那少數我認為要理會的人
多數我反而由得他們有眼無珠
提醒他們也不用了
今早還又跟一個這類可有可無朋友談過
我會給時間給這人
只是明白不要多一個enemy的道理
_____________________________________
Love Story
She never seriously disavows her love toward Z isn’t the prefabrication of her fantasy. He the person appears as the incarnation of all the culture itself, a wonderland her imagination has contributed about 50% to establish. Her argument, though, is not weak: which love affairs or marriage does not rely more or less on it? The faith toward this statement deter her from being pestered by her parents’ strong oppose to Z’s abject poverty and his seemingly (to them) turpitude. Parents always have great wisdom on against their children’s marriage intention, they always do. But you know what？They always fail strategically by making this wit looks too clever, if not treachery. For her, Z’s poverty never is a felony as her parents often hail, it is instead a moratorium of an ambition. Don’t you see that? He loiters around pubs to sell his practical dream plans, and lolls about the chair, detailing all that to that manageress. Z’s womanizing is the historical fault and culture misapprehension that now burdened on oriental women and western men; he is just too good a fellow to refuse any female soul that comes up saying “hi”. Yes, she is credulous. This is not a thing to gainsay. Her credulity, however, is of the gaudy wedding gown and not of Z the person. He is never the one to blame. How much she wants the benediction from her beloved parents, and how eager she wants to behold the scene as her mother pass her to Z with that lachrymose voice. That is what she always deems the climax of life, and one can die easily after that moment. Nevertheless, her obstinate parents make a travesty of her determination to that marriage. It is especially true when Z is always so busy, leaves her the only one to remonstrate. The communication always ends up with her failure to mitigate both herself and her parents, and her very efforts to convince herself not a malefaction in filial piety. After all, they’re just having different taste. This definitely is a misdemeanor or not even one. Anyway, she wouldn’t feel any bad after perdition because Z promises to bring flowers tonight, and seeing her lovely sleeping face bathed under moonlight. This is what Z tells her all the time, even though she never can see a moon in her room
Youth and Middle Age
I’ve a good memory of some things that I cannot name in advance, and can only wait until they come out in their natural ways. Anyway I’ve been given this chance of reading his poetry again. Last time I read his poetry I was nineteen, the sentences that stroke me until now tastes somehow like this (a bad re-presentation by me, translate from Chinese in order to keep a consistent English essay, a silly reason though I still keep it): “the train shoots into the keyhole of the night sky”. This is a standardized youth’s language. The young soul always seeks the physical transformation through various means, within which language is always chosen for its inexpensiveness. Of course keeping the imagination in mind is another good choice, only in that way the monster of youth is chained by one paw, even though the howl is widely spread. Now here is the middle-aged mind: “son, let me tell you/ Home is what we’re pursuing/ what in front of us/ yet is also something we feel always behind us”. Wow, this is definitely what a father would write. And this is something that never “shooting” (like the train did) into our eyes, but a meandering river drips slowly into the soul. Indeed what is a home? In the journal I kept in my teens, there is a sentence said my good memory of childhood serves as the strong props and strength, pushing me ahead. But at the same time, I’m searching the most promising and sweet home, which always is the carrot in front of a donkey by a few inches. Something you’re going to grasp the next moment, baby, try a little bit harder. Only the next moment lies always in the future, and never incarnate into “now”. Materialized homes like those sweet house images in a commercial ad.; spiritualized ones becomes the anxiety haunts me to pursue a higher academic degree. Seems if I get that, the sweet home comes into my hands. If I get the degree, a beautiful house will come and pick me up, with a thoughtful husband a son and a daughter and a house full of laughter, driving me into the future. Easy logic can tell me it’s not true. However, strong and unnamable forces prop me up into a hardworking posture, one that I never dare to loose a piece of muscles up.
__________________________________________
這就是我看了好久才明的兩篇
GRE level 文章
本人連SAT level的文章也不覺得有真正掌握過
可能我的水平還只可以到輕易應付到toefl的境界
我要努力!
(希望不是又在自言自語了...)
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