I have lost track of the days I am in KL. I think I have been here for four days. LOL, who is counting! There is no time to count the days. Or maybe, I get myself so busy, I don’t have time to miss home. I phoned my boy but six years old kid is not into chatting for long. I talked with him over the webcam but he is not interested to sit there to show his face.
Class has been intensive and there is no time to slack off or surf much because we either have things to complete, lectures or time to totally take a break and not doing anything except to sip a cold drink or have a cup of coffee.
This morning, I wrote to someone that never in my life have I ever dreamt of ever in contact with someone in that caliber. It is not exactly like a star-struck feelings but the awesomeness of being able to share my thoughts with someone in that high authority is just too overwhelming.
It has been such an emo day today. I was so affected by the morning incident, the feelings of how one can be something when God intends it. It is to the Lord that I give all glory and praise. Yet, it is not something you can go tell everyone about it. People will say, “You are nuts.” So, the feelings pent up can get to the core of the heart. Things like ‘Why am I so lucky? God must be terribly nice or else He won’t be bothered with people like me.”
Then, we learned narrative journalism and we need to get really emo to find the right things to describe a situation. The examples given by Janet is heart wrenching. I dare not dwell too deep into those words about boys being killed by shrapnels in the Iraq war. I was only half listening, not because I do not like Janet’s class but I was afraid of crying right in front of class.
But I couldn’t escape it because she wanted us to do an assignment. On narrative journalism. I did a piece on Kugan. I plugged in my earphone to my MP3 player and there goes the melodrama songs. I warned the person next to me to ignore me in case I sat there sobbing. I didn’t sob but I quickly wiped away those tears that threatened to drip onto my keyboard. It was a quick job because I didn’t want to be too deep into my thoughts and writing.
Someone commented about not feeling sympathy. But I say, “When we have stopped feeling, we have stopped living.” In a way, I am glad that I can still feel for the family and for the deceased. I don’t want to come to a part of life where I no longer have tears for others. So, let me cry all I want because when we cannot feel pain for others, we cannot feel joy in our lives as well. Chotto matte kudasai…Please excuse me while I cry.
Leave a Reply