my contributory negligence.
written: 3:47 p.m. on Thursday, Aug. 25, 2005
1. To be quite honest I don't really know;
2. The real reason is that my Internet browser got hijacked by some fucked up virus, I downloaded some uninstall .exe thingy from the alien toolbar I saw below my Google toolbar, I thought everything was fine but two seconds after installing the uninstall .exe, my desktop settings changed completely and in short, my laptop died;
3. It didn't die per se 'cause it was still working and I had all my documents intact, but whenever I booted the system it behaved as though it were totally brand-new, with some bubble popping up to encourage me to take a tour of Windows XP;
4. I got super fed up and pissed off and so I was finally inspired to reformat my laptop;
5. Except, I didn't reformat; my mom did;
6. I was going to take it to Acer to get the people to solve my problem for me but my mom - ever the thrifty person - called up Acer support yesterday morning and was told that reformatting is too simple for us to pay them to do it;
7. Hence, she did it for me last night, after I painstakingly emailed all my pictures and essays and diary entries and short stories and poetry and fanfiction to my Gmail account, after my E-Drive refused to read DVD-RW disc which pissed me off beyond belief;
8. Ergo, the two-day absent;
9. But then again, to be quite honest I don't really know.
Because I have two other computers at home that I could've used. Maybe I'm simply not used to writing anywhere else but on this laptop.
Speaking of laptops, after telling my parents about the Laptop Phenomenon that currently inflicts Law School where you see a disturbingly scary trend of almost 50% of the students bringing laptops to lectures, they are now toying with the idea of buying me a new laptop. Why can't I use my Acer TravelMate 4001LMi, I hear you ask?
Because it's an Acer TravelMate 4001LMi, you dumb shit. Google it and look up its specifications. IT'S FUCKING HEAVY. It's already super heavy without the huge battery; can you imagine me bringing ten million bricks to school everyday when I put the battery in? It's crazy and I'd rather risk breaking my wrist in lectures than to bring this to school and risk breaking my arm.
Anyway, I'm not sure if I want them to buy me a new laptop. Of course it'd be nice to own something new which my mom won't be able to lay claims to (she insists that this laptop is hers because she bought it primarily to bring to Taiwan last year to do her very important architecture work), but the lightest Acer laptop costs about $2500 - which is, needless to say, a hell of a lot. I can think of many other things that I could buy with that money, but more importantly, it's really a financial burden which my parents don't need at all. Besides, I still don't know if typing down notes is more effective than writing them out old-school; you have to factor in Internet connection and my immense tendency to be distracted when I'm wired.
The very thought that my parents are willing to purchase an additional laptop in the name of my pursuit of an LLB (Hons), coupled with how I have not effectively studied for about two weeks, is making me feel very, very guilty and self-loathing-esque right now.
Computer issues aside, school is doing a very good job of making me wish I were dead. I have not started on that closed memorandum; all I did was to attempt to dissect the legal issue yesterday on a scrap piece of paper and wow, I have no idea where the hell that scrap crap-ass piece of paper has gone to. Wonderfully brilliant, brilliantly wonderful Yelen, and look, that even kind of rhymed. Today's LAWR tutorial was fun and everything but I was confused all the same. When the tutor talked about 'element' my mind effectively went, "Huh?" A few minutes later my brains cheerfully decided to return from its sporadic vacation in like Hawaii or something after what felt like time immemorial and then reminded my mind that I read about the elements of a rule before in the Legal Writing book.
Oh, yeahhh. Right.
Tutor: Identify the elements of Section 302 (or whatever it was) of the Criminal Code.
My mind: Um, what???
Other students: Taking, intent, property of another, violence or intimidation.
My mind: Oh so that's what 'element' means?
Okay, let's move on.
Tutor said something about rule proof/rule application, other people answered, I sat there and didn't comprehend a thing and felt immensely stupid. To give myself some credit, I caught on a while later but then again, towards the end my mind started drifting and effectively I was lost.
All over again.
I wish I were dead.
I was hoping to see dear and familiar faces today but Thursdays don't work out that well between my friends and I. I called Khai after class and woke her up from her sleep. I called Mel last night and her break doesn't coincide with mine. My LAWR tutorial group went for lunch together and I was going to join them but finally decided that I just wasn't up to it.
That cookie-cutter pefect Law dude I briefly mentioned a while ago...isn't that cookie-cutter perfect anymore. He speaks well but doesn't write half as well and guys who can't write well aren't attractive, end of story.
The hurt pain hurt pain that drives the sadness away.
I recognise that I am currently displaying tried-and-tested symptons of academic suicide.
Someone please make me stop.
You hear stories about people who break down in universities because the pressure is too much to take. You hear such stories and you think, Nah, can't ever happen to me, that's like so damn stupid! Maybe you still think that but there comes moments such as right now in which you realise, I can relate; I can identify with where they're coming from; maybe the chances of that happening to me aren't that remote after all. A mental melt-down? Yeah, definitely reasonably foreseeable. Who do you hold liable for the psychiatric distress that you suffer? If that person is yourself how does the law attempt to provide a remedy for you? Do you sue yourself? If the law can't provide a remedy where do you go to seek compensation?
I don't even know what I'm talking about. Sometimes I ramble on mindlessly just because the sentences kind of sound good. Superficial and shallow. Style over substance. Only, for my case, it's a VAST LACK OF style over COMPLETELY NON-EXISTENT substance. And many digressively pointless meanderings.
(I don't think 'digressively' is a word. Think along the lines of 'digression'. Yes. Inventing words is a sign of creativity - not. Inventing words is a sign of linguistic handicap and laziness to come up with the correct one, fuck you.)
When you're faced with a problem do you fix it or do you walk away?
Would you choose Pride or Truth?
The new me (the person currently talking to you via virtual words on a screen) would probably choose to fix it, and choose the truth.
The old me will definitely walk away and choose Pride - any time any day anywhere for all conceivable rhymes and reasons. The old me will walk because she chooses Pride; she chooses Pride and so she walks. Either way she's comfortable.
I'm in a bit of a limbo. And I wish I'd said, I need time to think about this.
You try to think of something to say by snapping your fingers but your brains are slow to react. I'm Jane's anorexic finger, I'm Jane's suicidal thoughts, I'm Jane's out-of-control tear ducts. I'm ripping off Chuck Palahniuk and Fight Club because I wish I could write like him. So you force your brains to conceive thoughts but all that you succeed in forming are the vague beginnings of maybe-words and your reaction is so delayed, you wish you'd said, I need time to think about this, because honesty is always the best policy. Delayed reactions are stupid and hence they retard your functionality, and so you write another useless passage when you're supposed to be working on your closed memorandum assignment which happens to constitute 20% of your first semester LAWR grade. Now, you're no mathematical genius, but any idiot can tell that 20% is, to put it plainly, quite a fucking lot.
I'm Jane's suicidal legs hurling her off the C J Koh library.
I'm Jane's bruised heart trying to dig up its core until it is completely empty.
(I am Joe's raging bile duct. - "Fight Club")
I refer to myself as 'you' because I don't want to have anything to do with that person.
And so it hurts doubly hard when it becomes blatantly and jeeringly obvious that all attempts at separating the desired personality from the undesired are only superficial at best.
You couldn't say "I need time to think about this" because you didn't even think it until much later on. Why is that? You say instead, Um yeah okay, like a newcomer to the English language, void of any semblance to coherence, an empty word bank. I just want to laugh and I just want to cry.
I like the present tense because it doesn't lie nearly as much as the past tense does.
When you're faced with a problem do you fix it or do you walk away? Given time travel were real would you let things be or would you go back in time and alter all the things that you did wrong? When is it too late to turn back, too early to go forward?
The word "fuck" came into existence to help poor souls such as myself who can't ever find the right words to properly and accurately represent their feelings. It's a god-sent last-resort option that one utilises to the maximum when one feels that one has wasted enough time trying and trying and trying so damn hard to say what one wants to say without saying what ones to say, like a fucking retard one truly is.
So, FUCK.
I'm on the verge of walking away. I've never been one to sully her hands with trying to fix things. Your DVD player refuses to play your Jay Chou concert DVD? Buy a new DVD player then. Your VCR isn't working? Buy a new VCR. Your television is spoilt, buy a new TV. Buy a new shirt to replace the one that you tore. Buy a new bag, a new pair of shoes, a new book shelf, a new bed, even if the old ones aren't irreparably damaged.
Buy a new heart, a new personality, a new life.
Be realistic. Shut up and listen.
YOU NEED. TO DO. YOUR.
CLOSED MEMORANDUM.
AND. YOUR SINGAPORE LEGAL SYSTEM.
READINGS.
NOW.
Or, more accurately:
YOU NEED TO STOP THE SUICIDAL ACADEMIC TRAIN HEADING IN FULL SPEED FOR THAT HUGE BRICK WALL.
YOU NEED TO AVOID THE CRASH.
YOU NEED TO RECORD THESE MESSAGES AND PLAY THEM OVER AND OVER EVERY NIGHT WHEN YOU SLEEP.
YOU NEED TO STOP WRITING.
Breathe out.
**
Edited to add:
I just opened the reading for SLS Topic 5, Legislation Towards an Autochthonous Legal System (Yelen says: Whatever that means).
The vertical scrollbar shrank to a disproportionate size.
I had a very bad feeling about it, one that was confirmed cheerily by my disgustingly nonchalant word document when I scrolled all the way down and discovered the following:
51 pages.
FIFTY ONE pages.
I bitched to Rui on MSN.
And she said, "its quite an enjoyable read."
ARGH PLEASE SOMEONE OUT THERE, IF YOU'RE A KIND PERSON, PUT A BULLET THROUGH MY HEAD.
before sunrise // before sunset
Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010