It passed me that it would feel good to me and to some other friends if I were to trace the events of my days and my impressions of them. Not everyday is full of events and I don’t promise to be all diligent. As you will see, I am a really busy person -not boasting!-. So whenever I think there’s something to share AND provided I have time I’ll jump here and share it with you. Hope you don’t get bored soon.
I knew it was the flu once I started coughing like someone with the plague. But what would one do with a flu? Live with it!
It was so bad when I woke up. I felt like my body was being pierced with needles. Every single part of it ached. I couldn’t talk with the sore throat. I couldn’t move properly with them old joints -a figure of speech here! And I really really couldn’t go to work. But that inner teacher screamed that it wouldn’t do to leave the ‘children’ alone when I had 6 classes. So I went to work. And once I stepped outside the house I knew I was doomed. One of the worst days ever was approaching me confidently, and with a disturbing smirk.
First three classes were torturous but I had my voice -this is not metaphorical at all!. But right after the third period I fell into a feverish fit. My body was shaking despite the layers of cloths and the heated building. I couldn’t leave work because I simply had no means to -you wouldn’t want to see the location of my precious workplace. Right at the end of the world. And I had no car and rode the school bus. Miserable wretch I am-. So I convinced myself I’d be fine till the end of the day. With that spirit I went into my class and I witnessed how inhuman 9-year ‘children’ could be. The devils didn’t sit still. More than ever they fought. They never called each other names but they did once they noticed their teacher wasn’t able to scold them. Once they realised their teacher was,for once, weak. As I sat down unable to move or talk, enduring the two periods I had in their class, myriads of questions roamed into my mind. Existential you might bet. What the hell am I doing with my life? Why am I enduring this kind of humiliation? Where has all my effort at educating them gone? What are they going to grow up to be? I hate them. I hate them. I HATE THEM. And I didn’t cry. I needed all my left strength not to cry. And I avenged my hurt feelings and pride. And of course my damaged health. I did something I knew I shouldn’t be doing but it just didn’t matter. Because at that moment they were kids no more. And I gave up on the innocence and purity they were supposed to carry. I tore down all that I hung out for them. Their scoreboards and extra points and compliment chain. All our promises since the beginning of the year. Then with the little voice I had left I said, ”I’m not your teacher anymore.” Whatever connection I had with them, it was gone at that moment. The point is, I doubt if I had any.
I went home, too tired mentally and physically to function. Mother ran an emergency centre to cure me; all types of medicine herbs and others. By other I mean, honey, lemon, soup, etc..
So I did improve. I could, for the first time in two nights sit down and read -well, study-. Sipping at hot stuff, I could get some chapters of The Poisonwood Bible done. In my Literary Criticism course I have to conduct a research on the dialogue between theories in a certain work of art. So I chose this novel for many reasons. First, I’m not writing on a classic. I love classics but I simply am not doing what everyone else is. Second, this novel can be read in the light of many theories. Third, it changed my life when I read it first. So I narrowed down the main theories I would use and the secondary ones and set to read the novel again. And how different! When you read t for pleasure then critically.
I gave up to the effect of the medicine after 6 hours of studying and went to sleep, with the full intention of going to work the following day. I woke up at 5 in the morning to a different stabbing pain. Not my throat this time. Not my head. My stomach. No hell! Mrs. Period. She has the talent of arriving when she’s least wanted. The unwelcome curse undid all the tries of the night and I lay in my bed unable to fulfill my plans. To work, I didn’t go.
After another fit of high temperature, shivering and all, I sweat my fever down. I woke up to a spectacle worth beholding. My hair bristled everywhere. I smelled like a rotten tomato, you might bet. And my dark circles had dark circles. It was 10:30 which meant that I slept A LOT! I had to listen to this to function.
Ah! You should know that if you were to read my anything, you should get used to having this guy everywhere.
So I eventually made it through the day. Had to devour everything given me by mom, explain to my dad that The Poisonwood Bible was not about converting to Christianity and no I was not converting and yes the verb doesn’t apply to me because I have no religion to being with and he knows that and he shouldn’t worry,
write for my Killers series, watch Remember and..
Watch Remember. My oh my!
Now this is what I call a comeback! Holy Yoo Seung Ho! Holy Park Sung Woong! What a devil Namgoong Min! I didn’t watch The Attorney but I did watch I Am Father and yes that crazy writer is this crazy writer. What a plot! What wondrous acting! And what loads of surprises it obviously has for us. If you’re not planning to start this drama, trust me you should rethink.
It was hard for me to get my mind OUT of Remember and INTO anything else but Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw was more than capable of that. Have you read the novella? What a question! Of course you have! Reading psychology-based novels has always impressed me. They’re just so real and so ”relatable” it’s impossible not to feel yourself inside the story with the characters. I hate to make such attachments and I always end up doing just that. I ended the book or more precisely the book cut me off, staring vacantly at the last page and having a million questions on my mind. Questions I’ve had before and questions neither I nor anyone else found answers to. And those who persisted, died in the attempt.
I slept and woke up. Started reading Red-Robin but paused to write this for you. I hope my last three days had enough to interest you.