too much of not enough.
written: 8:39 p.m. on Friday, Sept. 01, 2006

I've been meaning to update but I kept finding myself busy with other things.

Namely, a new RPG I downloaded (it's non-commercial!) sometime last week. I hate computer games. They're so addictive and they turn me all geeky and weird.

I don't hate law school; I just don't like it. But amidst the dull shrieks of the oiled and polished melancholy mad elephants that storm through law school, some Beethoven and Mozart (literally, on one occasion) manage hold steadfast to their minority position and provide me with some respite.

What I'm trying to say in that mixed metaphor-ed sentence above is, Despte the fact that I have to take crappy Company Law, there's CLT to keep me sane.

Year 1 Semester 1, it was SLS. Year 1 Semester 2, it was Legal Theory. Now, it's CLT. Four-credit, seemingly unimportant modules that the majority of my cohort-mates bitch and moan about because they are impractical and hence useless, unlike the all-important Contract and Company, 8-credit modules that will, like, totally help you Get Rich Quick! when you, like, graduate with second-uppers/lowers and work for, like, some hot-shot law firm and become, like, this really cool, like, corporate lawyer.

These people should read Hard Times or something. But hey, to each of his own. As long as they don't say stupid things to my face (for example, You read CLT for what? It's so useless lor), I really don't give a damn.

CLT should be eight-credit. It's seriously the only module that I almost diligently read for, and you know how serious this sentence is when I'm using the word 'diligent' on myself, with regard to law school academic work, and in a non-ironic manner. I really enjoyed Professor Hallaq's lectures (despite falling asleep during the first hour of his two-of-two lecture because it was like bloody 9 in the morning lah) and I'm bummed that he's gone. I like Prof. GB too, but Hallaq is so in-your-face about his beliefs and so unafraid of offending that I find it really refreshing. He tells it as it is and doesn't hide behind diplomatic words that seek to smoothen ruffled feathers and I think that is...really cool. Diplomacy is nice and all but sometimes it frustrates me because I wanna know what you REALLY think, not what you think would cause the least tension.

And, well, I hate political correctness. Pain in the ass.

I really liked the idea of time being circular in chthonic traditions. I don't believe in heaven and hell, I don't believe in reincarnation, and most likely I don't believe in life after death in all conceivable permutations. But that always leaves the question that instills more fear than I'd like in me: What the hell happens to me after I die? When I was young and relatively (i.e. relative to my peers in SNGS - which is like some unrealistic cocoon that did not reflect the real world) hedonistic my answer to that question was, Just die lor.

In English, it was, You're just dead. Period. Nothing happens after you die; you die and that's the end of it.

Which is actually quite a depressing idea, now that I think of it. The chthonic tradition (I feel uncomfortable lumping them all together but that's what Glenn did so whatever) views time in a circular fashion. There's no past, no present, no future - just a constant, never-ending recycling of...well, of time. There is great emphasis on nature and the environment, such that the not-yet-born are nowhere and everywhere; the living inhabit the earth for a short period of time; and the dead are only physically dead.

I wanted to type out this part in the chapter on the chthonic legal tradition from my book but I discovered that I forgot to retrieve it from my mailbox. Damn. In any case, my point is, it's a nice idea how you die, but don't really die, because you're still a part of the environment and the people you leave behind show that they still care by making offerings to you (or whatever it is they do; I can't remember). It's slightly reminisce of the whole burning money paper thing whenever the ghost month rolls around, or during a day in April (Western calendar April) where relatives of deceased family members visit their graves to literally clean them up. But for the Taoism (I think? I just call it Chinese actually) ritual the dead are in another (imagined?) dimension, another universe, some conception of heaven/hell/something in between - an idea I can't accept because it really makes no sense to me.

In any case, death doesn't matter; not yet anyway. I still have, oh, twenty more years to go (because I don't plan to live past 40 unless I absolutely have to, or else).

I like my Property tutor (by the way JoMel, I made a mistake. His last name begins with R and not A!). I left my Lolita on the table when I left the room for the loo because he wasn't in class yet, and I bloody had to pee. When I came back and sat down and marked my attendance he pointed to my book and went, "How's the novel going?"

Haha. I'm a dork though, so I just said, "Very good." Which isn't even correct English. Bleah.

In other news, I had a bloody weird dream this morning. I'm glad my mom woke me up when she did because I didn't like the direction in which it was going. In fact, I didn't like the dream, period. It brought back feelings I thought were long forgotten and it unnerved me because they are negative feelings and I don't want to harbour them anymore. It's already been a year so really, this is getting ridiculous. It was ridiculous to start with.

This is one of the rare occasions on which I genuinely dislike dreaming. A couple of curt "what do you expect me to say to that?" and "I don't have anything to say to you" later and all was well again. What is that, really? How disgusting.

But, as everything else in life, it matters not. At all.

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