The Story Ends

Hey. I haven’t blogged in a long time. Been sick, mostly. Hospitalised, haven’t been to school for more than a week. I’m really supposed to be doing homework now, but I’m completely not in the mood to do so. I’ll probably have to start something after this, though.

I just thought I’d note some of my feelings down here, the only place where my memories don’t get lost. I’ve just spent most of my bedridden days reading - sleeping, mostly, but reading as well - the entire Harry Potter series. Mr. Wong lent me the seventh book when he came to visit with the other Mr. Wong, the one who doesn’t like reading. *cough*

Anyway, I finished reading Deathly Hallows just yesterday, and since then I’ve felt - I don’t know - empty, lost? Like a hollow feeling, like there’s something that should be there but isn’t, like something left me. I’ve no idea how to explain it, describe it, put it in words.

I understand if Harry Potter isn’t your type of book. I think it’s one of the best pieces of literature around today, although I don’t read that widely. It’s best to me though; is that worth anything? Much better than Hamlet or all the other weird Elizabethan stuff anyway.

J.K. Rowling is a genius. Can you imagine what type of creativity and imagination this author must have? Nineteen years, seven novels, a whole new universe of magic. ‘Cos that’s what it is, really: magic. The captivation of a spellbinding plot; the charm of a number of enchanting characters; the hidden, silent call of the profound exponential lessons of life that emanates from the literature… it can’t be anything else.

I don’t think I can achieve my purpose of writing this; I cannot hope to convey the feeling of absolute dread and anticipation as I thumbed through the pages, drinking in each and every word, the images forming in my mind; excitement from the fact that I was getting to the end of the mystery, but dreading to reach the end and finding out that it… ends. It was such a wonderful experience, flipping page by page, living chapter by chapter, ignoring the harsh world around me, just sunk into this amazing work of fiction and living, breathing imagination. It stunned me, when I the back cover closed, and the entire legend finished, ended.

It seems a world apart from me now, something faraway; distant, like a long-lost friend. I now realise the power of (good) literature (for the second time I think, since the Da Vinci talk), its ability to take the reader and his imagination on an emotional roller-coaster ride, living with the characters as though they were real, laughing, crying, everything. Something Hamlet has never been able to do for me, I might add.

And the writing style! I find myself trying to copy it, to imitate the technique of one a hundred, thousand, million times my superior. It makes me want to write, yet when I look at TNN, it seem to pale in comparison. The vocabulary, the organisation! The placement of information where and when it is needed! In short, the absolute essence of the work, a masterpiece. It seems foolish to try and reproduce such perfection.

I feel lonely now. Like I can never pick up a book and be immersed in it as such. I must sound really stupid, feeling lonely because I finished a book. But that’s how I feel; or at least, as close to how I feel as I can describe it.

I should go now. I have homework to finish, and it has to be completed, somehow, even when my mind is clearly elsewhere.

All is well. No, not really.
The Edna Man

All the Time in the World

Since FPS isn't given official status teachers can't excuses us from lessons/CCAs so we have to stay up to 10pm everyday not including BoB and I'm sleeping at 2pm which is only four hours of sleep. I fell asleep today during my Chinese test and didn't even do the summary. Maybe I'm just the one who's weak because there isn't anyone else breaking down.

Goodnight
The Edna Man

FINALLY

At last! Someone from the Student Council has finally got back to me about the socks letter I wrote way back when the stupid idea was even implemented. Here's a copy of the letter the Student Council sent to Higher Authorities™ about it, with a little running commentary.

Report on Socks Purchase

Implementation of the socks purchasing, as expected, was met with some amount of resentment from the student body.
Surprise! I mean, oh really? They did? That's quite surprising.

However, due to the nature of the implementation, students who complied with the socks rules were still required to purchase socks. This antagonised the students who felt that they were still being punished, by being made to purchase the socks, even though they complied with the school rules.
"Punished" is an understatement here. I'd go for "oppressed" or "coerced".

The Student Council appreciates the fact that socks purchases cannot be retroactively refunded, it would like to voice the concern held by some regarding this issue.
Why no refund? All part of the plan, dears.

We sincerely hope that such situations can be avoided in the future, by ensuring that disipline initiatives be targeted at offenders rather than the school population in general.
It better be avoided in the future. Hear hear I say!

As a note we have attached a letter from a year 4 student, expressing similar sentiments to the Student Council.
WHAT?!

Although as a year 4 student, he is not technically within the Student's Council's jurisdiction, his feedback is still applicable to the predicament facing IB students.
Great. Now they know who I am. I am so dead x_x

Well, there you have it. Something has been done, at least. Hooray for Student Council! Just that now, if you have a problem with the school, you're on your own unless you can be bothered to wait until Year 5.

On a side note, Shuan had this very interesting idea about a giant school Mech thing, like Transformers but of entire buildings. He's drawing it now or something. It sounds like a pretty cool idea.

Homework's overloading right now, especially since FPS is coming along. My mom's not very happy that I have to stay back at night. Oh well.

Advocate of socky justice,
The Edna Man