I
was going through some old stuff when I found it again. After all these years…. It was my 1988/89 journal.
1989? It went a long way back. There I
was still young and very much confused with life. Ha! Ha! Writing the journal
was actually an assignment in one of my English classes. Believe it or not, I
spent one whole semester cracking my head thinking of what to write as we were
required to start working on it from the first day of the semester until the
very last !! The entries dated from 18 December, 1988 to 23 March, 1989. Phew!! How did I get through that ?
Here are some of the
entries taken from the journal.
TUESDAY, 20 DECEMBER 1988.
Orientation. Now, why did that word hit my mind anyway ? Ohh ho yes… He is going through his orientation week now. Then, he will be gone for two years. Sob! Sob! (Now, that is so exaggerating !! ) Well, talking about orientation week reminds me of mine. That horrible, torturous, sickening week !! By the way, I did write a poem on this so called a week to remember!
Orientation Week,
The word made me sick!
That horrible, torturous, sickening, tiring week!!
A hullabaloo to the juniors,
But ‘ a hula hula week ’ to the seniors.
I could still remember,
How I used to cry alone,
Sometime after midnight,
everyday,
during that awful week.
Then, things changed.
Everything is easier now,
as I am A senior and getting Wiser .
BUT,
Excuse me, “ If I were to go through another orientation week,
FORGET IT ! I’d rather be sick ! ”
(p.s. Poem budak-budak….)
MONDAY, 9 JANUARY 1989
I was so moody today. I tried to join in the bull session but just couldn’t. Felt like there was a rock in my mouth. So, I wrote myself a poem, a short one.
I couldn’t hide,
What I felt inside,
What I felt inside,
For it showed,
In my eyes.
I couldn’t fight the tears,
For it fell,
Accompanying,
a broken heart.
(
p.s YAWN…..)
SUNDAY, 22 JANUARY 1989.
Dear Mr Malachi Edwin, do we really have to write a poem on one of these characters ?? You must be jok…Oooppsss.., sorry…..you’re not joking ! Ok, For The Love Of Literature! Here goes!!! Based on the novel by Arthur Miller, “The Crucible”, I present to you a poem on Elizabeth Proctor! Here goes !!
A soft wind,
Is she,
Dares to blow,
But moving nothing.
Strong ties,
No lies,
Soothing her lover’s skin,
Covering a sin.
A soft wind,
Is she,
Yielding, blowing,
Into misguided deeds.
(p.s. Indeed! For the love of literature!!
I could still remember the day when we visited this dear lecturer of ours at the hospital. Upon opening the door of his room, one of my male colleagues, with his “heart and soul”, recited a line from one of the poems discussed in his class, “ Oh rose… dear rose…thou art sick….Ha! Ha! We couldn’t stop laughing after that! Really miss those days…. )
