a little of everyday

tuition. i never had it, and never believed in it. so now it is ironic that i am giving it. yet, it serves as a means to an end. a better end for me. at least i believe it to be that way. but still it mocks me sometimes. especially when you see the other person in agony, having to sit through another two hours of boredom with someone he barely knows, simply because his mother planned it for him. i thank my mother for not being that kind of a parent. however, some people seem genuinely assured with a tuition facilitator. i do not know when it has come to that, but i feel sorry for them. that assurance they have, it is like a ampulet or charm that your granny gives you in the hope of you holding on to it and thus receive supernatural help. has it evolved into a modern-day collective representation, where you go around asking people if they have engaged a tuition facilitator for their child, and that it is the only way to secure the child's grade? they fail to see that the ultimate end still lies in the control of the child, their child. that we can bring a horse to the water but we can never make them drink. so what then if the child fails to reach expectations? where does the blame go? still someone's got to fill the position. and i'm not complaining.

there is a difference between obligatory writing and spontaneous writing. your intuition would tell you that the latter is much more welcome than the former. well, i think there is no escape to us writing both, but given a choice, i would almost always pick spontaneous writing.

yet, the intellectuals would argue that an ideal will only be reached if you maintain a balance between things, and this case here is no exception. you almost always do obligatory writing when it comes to school or academic work, and then you cannot deny that it is essential to do them as you need to hone or shapen your writing skills in a particular area.

of course that is not to say that spontaneous writing should be neglected. in fact, i believe that many of the good books that you see now came from an author who was experimenting with spontaneous writing. well, back to my spontaneous writing.

i am in a mess. it has left me wanting more air and space for myself. i can't seem to concentrate on what i want to do, never mind what it happened to be. yet i don't see any solution for the problem. not currently.

there are just so many things to be done. maybe stress is a major factor at work here. i have to change this. i can't just let myself drift through day by day. life isn't just about getting by one day at a time. at least not for me. i guess one of the most tiring things about staying alive is that you have make a conscious effort to keep yourself in gear; to give yourself a little push whenever you find the tension slacking. until it snaps. then you can rest.

i saw a friend in school today. he looked different, somewhat more mature, walking with long, purposeful strides. suddenly, i felt an urge to go up and talk to him, to ask how he has been. but the bus sped routinely away.

later i thought about what i had wanted to say to him, and i realised that there were none. sometimes, you may feel a strong urge to communicate or connect with someone, but once that moment is gone you might realise that it was just an empty shell, a futile attempt at interpersonal relationships; to allow yourself to fit into the society which you are in, even when it isn't necessary. is that human nature?