divided

maybe i'm starting to appreciate lit now. well, that's because we're sort of analysing this novella called dispossessed by philip hodgins in english. and we're not really doing hardcore, really in-depth lit analysis, but it's still analysing and it's kinda 'nice' to see all the different pieces fit in to parallel with the story.

guess i can appreciate it better now.

i'm thinking that i should go get my dvds. [yes, again.]
i don't think i'm really growing up. i mean, i just keep remembering stuff about my childhood. especially the television programmes that i used to watch.
too bad most of them are so old they're no more produced for sale. eg sleeping beauty.

anyway, last night after homework, i was going to bed and i started thinking about the existence of fate.
i mean.... fate = everything is predestined, and you just walk the path chosen for you. if that was the case, life would be pretty meaningless wouldn't it? coz then, in the end, you wouldn't have had to do anything, make any choice. ultimately... you'd be a puppet of fate. things would be too easy and hardly worth it..

ok.. so while i'm on a roll and thinking of all the random things...
here's a poem on hope.


Hope is the thing with feathers,
that perchers in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
and never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
and sore must be the storm,
that could abash that little bird
that kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land
and in the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb from me.

--- Emily Dickinson