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Busy days, busy walks, endless studying;

lazy moods, lazy yawns, countless pondering.

Since the last post I published from now, it's evident that I haven't talked to myself for a quite long time. This results in a situation that scares me the most: rotten English, oh shooooot!

Seit diesem Sommer habe ich mich um ein Ding Sorgen gemacht. Es ist schwierig für mich zu genau schreiben, weil ich immer träume! Ich sehr denke, dass wirklich niemand was ich gesagt habe verstanden wird. Deshalb schreibe ich jetzt auf deutsch, dann könnt ihr kein Wort kennen. Hast du eine Liebesgeschichte gehören? Kannst du raten, ob ich mich von dir angezogen fühlen? Manchmal stelle ich mir viele Fragen, die sonst mich stören. Jedes Lächeln, jedes Wort, jede Wahrheit und jede Lügen machen mich Schlafstörung. Ich kann nicht fast was passiert ist verstanden wegen dieser langweilige Geschichte. Kann jeder mir helfen? Kann jeder mir die Antwort erzählen? Ich bin doch müde von der Schwierigkeit.

In between Dreams

Somewhere over the cloud;

somewhere under the tree;

somewhere around the house;

somewhere between the dream.

There must be something quite indefinite.

No matter how desperately I try, I still couldn't see.

It's said when thing gets hazy, it's called beauty.

While I say when dream gets realistic, it's called unreality.

Closeness, remoteness;

distance can be preciousness.

Playground

When I was not that civilized, or not that "well-educated" and sophisticated, my mind was unlimited. It was around the time when I was at elementary school, everything could be possible as long as my mind was awake. While I was asleep, well, nothing was impossible, much wilder, more fanciful. This born ability gave me the reason why I could fool around all day long without doing things and still not be tired of the silence, and the isolation. Beside myself, the creativity was my best friend, teaching me how to paint, how to sing, how to dance, how to smile, and how to play. She was with me all the time wherever I went. Even though I turned in, she helped me build me dreams, led the way I thought about everything. She created what I loved, and what I needed.

Who didn't have this kind of friend when being kids? Everyone did. But when we grew up, she vaguely disappeared. Like the boiling water evaporating, like the street lights getting dimmed, she seldom came back, will probably never return. And then we need other stuff to take over her place. We desperately search for any friendships, relationships, indulgence, luxuries, pleasures, and sin. Most of people will find their jouneys totally in vain and upset. Swimming through the ocean, running through the desert, it ends up yourself but nothing. Our creativity was killed, was murdered. Our minds were no more in harmony. Instead, there were hollow, emptiness, vacancy, and weakness.

We turn to be law-abiding citizens, moral saints, and decent men, but we forgot how to be kids that we were born to be, that we used to be.

Je ne vais pas bien.

God, I hate this feeling. There is nowhere left to hide in. That kind of thought just keeps haunting my mind day by day. I hate those tricky games which some players are good at. I can't even tell the truth from lies. The worries, I guess, are coming from the terrible thought that I would probably fail for no experience. There's a first for everything, isn't it? I'm not really sure what I'm afraid of. Is it the person who I'm dealing with? Or the situation that I have been involved in? There is always a voice which I have no idea where it comes from, maybe from the other part of me or something, talking me into giving a shot. But it turns out that I don't have the guts to buy me a front seat to unveil the curtain in front of me. Could it be worse if I show my true feeling? Or have I already been getting too far?

I hate the suffering between expectation and disappointment.

I hate the difference between this and that.

I hate everything so vulnerable when it comes to this complicated sentiment.

I hate it.

Liebesbrief

Sometimes, I like being surrounded; surrounded by people, voices, and smells.

Like the pond where fish belong to;

like the canvas where water painting stuck to;

Sometimes, I like being in a crowd.

Everything happening around is all unexpected;

each eye contact, each smile and each touch will never repeat.

Other times, I like being alone.

I'm the captain of my soul.

Each detail is under my control.

I manipulate the rules.

There are still a few of times when the crowds are too crowded, when the soul is too lonely.

Hollow stuffs up my mind whenever my room is empty.

Emptiness knocks down my life whenever my room is hollow.

There's nothing better than happiness, which consists of a girl called "me," and a guy called "you."

Still, each eye contact, each smile, and each touch are unexpected.

You are now the pond, the canvas, the voice that I'm addicted to.

Any of them will neither replay nor fade away.

Because you are exactly where I belong to.

Fur

I think everything just has its own wrapping paper all over itself. A book has its book cover, sometimes, made of paperback, other times, made of cardboard. An album has its record sleeve, too. How do kids differentiate tigers from lions? By its fur color of course. A proverb goes that, don't judge a book by its cover. Well, it's just not so true. We have to admit that we always do the same thing, judging a book by its cover. We take a certain group of books from shelf which attract our attention by its covers. We see thousands of things passing by in our daily lives. Most of them will automatically fade away, while things that stay rooted in our minds are the so-called "taste." It's instinct. When you know, you know.

Some people care about what they wear and how they dress up. They define themselves by clothes, pants, and accessories. They also define others by their color, their fur. I took a two-line note from the movie, Confession of a Shopaholic. "It completely defines you," and "Underwear is a basic human right." The reason why I found the second one quite interesting is because that even when someone is nearly stripped, the last thing they will desperately keep is underwear. And that's also the last thing they will ask for. What a metaphor!

Clothes was for protection in the first beginning. And now, it's for impression, occasion, and definition.

Success sseccuS

I've taken dancing classes this summer break for almost two months. Even though I wasn't quite involved in it during the first month, I found myself bathed deeply into those moves in the second month. My mind was almost carried away by all those dancing skills. Every time I went home by MRT, I can't help moving every parts of my body to rhythm with beats from the reflection of every mirror. And I found myself improving much more than the last three or four months.

This morning I read an article on the New York Times, which was entitled "Sweating Your Way to Success." It's related that how success would be achieved not because of innate ability but because of dedicated practice. I know this sounds really old-fashioned. People are already sick of this kind of preach. But it's just so true that I could totally understand by the dedication I paid during my summer break.

You will never imagine how frustrating it is to watch teachers stretching their limbs with beauty and I just act like a total idiot. But, anyway, I overcome it! Mostly we are all haunted by the "talent" myth. Too many of us think those excellent tennis players just get what they deserve because they are born champions, whereas they have just simply practiced for longer and more intensely than others. Success in most arenas of life is not a reflection of innate skills but rather devoted effort.

Wow, it's been a while for me to be so positive as hell!

Forgotten

From time to time, I do love the feeling of being excluded, being forgotten. In that case, I can bathe myself in the world of nothing but me. It's said that the art of communication can be a lesson hard to learn. Before you convince someone, you have to convince yourself first. If you can't convince others, then confuse them. But how do you confuse yourself?

Being forgotten is like the world can still go on without you. Being forgotten is like there is nothing you can lose. Nobody will count you in, since you belong to nowhere. You are mentally invisible.

Ironically, I, at times, am eager to live under the spotlight. Stages are needed. Attention is necessary. Even though there is nothing better than being flattered, flattering words still, in a way, disgust me. Nothing happens without a reason. There's always a prica tag for everything. Sacrifice.

Every now and then, I feel like getting away from people. I'm not saying having my eyes stuck to the TV or PC. I mean, get away from the crowds and have conversation with myself. People wearing masks make me sick. They ignore things by smiling. They hide their fear by shouting. They call somebody's name by judging. I see everything in harmony but smell nothing but money.

Teenage Dream

Damn, I do feel like having a shot! This just reminds me of the song, Not Afraid which raps "I'm not afraid, to take a step, everybody, come take my hand." Every time I listen to Katy Perry's songs, they always push me to do something crazy. I guess the first thing I'll regret about my own life is that I never do something crazy. But maybe once I did, I won't take it as crazy. Something crazy is the thing that you've never done. I know it depends. But, as I look back now, my life really needs to add some spice. Something crazy doesn't have to be something illegal, while it needs to be something that I have never done before.

I've listened to thousands of stories already. I saw them smile, cry, giggle, scream, murmur, worry, and think. That's surely the true color of life! I don't really care if it's hard or tough. Maybe what I need is those bitter experience that will cure my numbness. I want to go through it, at least once. Everybody talks and sings about it. I'm gonna sing and talk about it, too!

I'm not sure if wait is worth it. I'm trying to grab every chance that may be the history. Nothing is better than memory, isn't it? If I don't even take a bite, how come I know the taste? If I don't step out, how come I know the feeling of falling out? This is real, man! Don't ever look back.

I want to be young forever, for real!

Don't Push Me

"We, as parents, are just worried about you, afraid that you would get in trouble by knowing some horny guys or pervs." "I'm just trying to tell you what I've learned so that you won't have to get through all of these." "Sense of safety is pretty important, instead of other factors when choosing friends." I thought my parents wouldn't interrupt how I deal with my friends.

I mean, I am nineteen years old for Christ sake's, almost twenty. How can't I tell right from wrong? Everyone has its own way to make friends. They say they won't poke their nose into my friends, but "Freunden" is not included. Great, this is the most terrified thing that I'm scared to face. Just because I'm a girl, I'm so-called female-needed-to-be-protected, they feel obliged to pay attention to my Freunden choosing. You know what? I have my own standard. I can decide by myself that who I want to be with, and who I don't want to give a shit.

Their worries are totally understandable actually. I'm not saying that your worries are not necessary. I appreciate that, I really do. The concerns mean I'm still the apple of your eye. But I have to say your words can only be taken as suggestions, not orders. I'll keep that in mind. However, something can't be changed if I've already done. And I won't change it. I always listen to my voice at the end, anyway.

ABC Just Means A Lot to Me

I recently found it's a little bit hard for me to express myself in English. I hate this feeling! It takes seconds or minutes to type out a sentence, or worse, to construct a sentence. I should speak or type in English by feeling, not by those grammatical formulas! (Great, I just checked the word "grammatical" in online-dictionary.) I nearly typed it as "grammatik" which is German. I love German. I really do! But how should I avoid form mixing it with my first second foreign language? How should I be multilingual? (Thank god, I still can spell "multilingual" right!)

Even now I major in law, my ambition for learning languages still can't be buried! I found myself taking more time to check vocabularies, and paying more attention to listening to the words thay say instead of the plots itself in movies. I'm sometimes carried away by their words so that I don't know what the movie is about. This also results that now I tend to watch movies by myself, since I need to hit the button of repeat a lot!

Does anyone share the same syndromes as I do? I'm curious. Who gives me this kind of love for languages? My mom, my dad, my bro, and all my relatives, as far as I know, they don't put many efforts on language. Like I don't have any slightest idea of computers or engineering. I'm just so into all the alphabets and pronunciation. But don't misunderstand me, I don't give a damn about literature. I hate literature! Das finde ich langweilig. And strangely, I have a liking for rhymes. That's why I write some lines with rhymes inspired by lyrics and rap music.

I've learned German for two years. Even though I'm really not that good and hard-working at it, I still decide to embark on a jorney of another new language: Français!!
Crossed fingers for me!

:)

Gosh, I guess someone out there is going to think this blog is just about to be forgotten! Even I, myself, almost forgot that I had the ability to write, since I was nearly killed by thousands of "teenage" worries. (Bad news is that there are only 2 months left for me to be a teenage girl. No!!!) I didn't mean to end it, anyway. I'm just not quite myself when the whole world is ridiculously controlled by one-to-a-hundred. Yep, the goddamn counting system of exams. (Why not adopt the way American or European count? A-to-D or one-to-five? Isn't it much easier?)

So now I'm sitting in front of my desktop and I'm writing what I'm writing right after I finished the criminal law final. And the last one to be done is my favorite German final which will be held on this Friday. And after that? Summer break! Yes, summertime is eveything when you are chocked to suffocation by piles of papers or bored to death by sitting in library without turning a page.

Sun, sun, sun
Shining when kids are around
Beach, beach, beach
Crowded 'till the sun goes down
Party, party, party
Hanging all the way downtown
Fun, fun, fun
Won't stop 'till we get drunk

Ha! These 8 lines really sound like what Lindsay Lohan or Ke$ha always sing about.
Summer! Here I come!

Just Another Dream

For the past 18 years, I have always buried a little pleasure in my mind. To taste every kind of cheese all over the world may be one, and to drive a caterpillar maybe another one. But dancing is something that I would do unconsciously, somehow, the one that I even didn't understand I was totally carried away when having all those moves.

I remember the day after each mid-terms in junior high, when I got home, I would let the music put on in portable stereo in my room which was also my stage and all of my joints and muscles would be enliven by each beat and each rhythm. This was the way I released all the tension and stress. And the way I would bring myself to life. I was so rejoiced that I started to create my own moves even which actually looked quite silly for pro. Nobody taught me how to dance, and it seemed that none of my family would see dancing as one of their hobbies. I didn't know who set the fire on my desire to dance. Probably this is the gift that God gave to to enjoy one more pleasure in my lifetime to learn, to enjoy and to appreciate.

My big brother told me having the ability to appreciate one thing is happiness. If you can see something as a treasure which someone else see as a trash, you become happier. That's because you know how to cherish and how to appreciate.

Unfortunately, dream may be forgotten from time to time, especially when you're freaking involved in the so-called bread and butter. Anyway, after roughly four or five years which my life was just full of a moutain of textbooks, exams and crap, I took back my dream from lost-and-found. I found the flow through my veins again. I found the feeling when the bass hit a beat on my heart again.

I'm blessed to appreciate lots of cool things in my life.

Firstly, drawing, then table tennis, basketball, English, rap, music, moonwalk, graffiti, beatbox, English speech and now dancing. None of this, mostly, can be seens as a career which parents will be proud of. And none of which I can call myself a pro. But I know how to love them, just like the way I do to my friends. As long as I do have passion, I can play big and dream big.

Out-of-this-world Experience

As most of American put it when bumping into a situation shocking enough to make them speechless, they yell out, "Oh my god." Oh my god! Oh mein Gott! Where am I? Can anyone out there understand everything can change overnight? Like the world upside down? Have anyone had the experience that haunts your mind or uses up your words to explain like I have?

At that moment, I felt a little bit upset, a little bit easy, a little bit weird, a little bit untrue. Even though I was still rational enough to speak, my mind was all stuck and the air was actually suffocating. What I have always been scared of suddenly happened without any precaution. However, after that, I started to doubt myself whether or not this was the situation that I was frightened the most, since somehow I felt easy and comfortable in front of you. The most difficult question for me unbelievably solved the most embarrassing status just right after your confession. I was the up in the air. Well, the story was up in the air. The music we love was put on. We sang, we chatted. I thought it was almost gonna be the plan. The plan I was maybe dreaming about and strangely afraid of. The plan I couldn't plan to have a definitely happy ending. But it all suddenly ended in a way that I've never imagined. I can tell how brave you were when you were saying that and that just makes me realize you trust me. I slept for more than 11 hours the day after that night which was quite unusual for me. I guess my mind needed to take a rest to figure out where I am and what the status quo is. Now I definitely, or maybe, sort of understand why I take it as a happy ending instead of a depressing story which I expected I would.

Four-word letters are categorized as parental guidance. And there is another four-word letter which human beings pray for and struggle with for centuries. It can be easy, complicated, happy, sad, red, blue, chocolate or anything. But I think the trust you have in me is much better than that. Freundschaft is a longer word, but I believe it's much easier to learn and practice.

We don't even get it started yet, and we'll never. All those frustration, depression and downfall are easily skipped.

Do you believe falling in love with oneself is actually possible and true? I set an example. And I made it romantic. Ha, well, I believe I did. But this is far different from narcissus!

Salute! Toast to me, toast to you, toatst to the lesson you gave me.

Serious

I don't have to be right. I'm just doing what I'm feeling right. That's all that matters.
This ain't be a game, if I don't see it as a game. That is, I mean it
It's true that I'm feeling like a fool when being restless for all the morning.
Which one, what kind, when, where, what, why, how?
Anyway, all of a sudden, it doesn't matter at all, since there is still a go.

It's all right, whenever, wherever, whatever, however, except whoever.

Am I not clear on that? Well, I admit I'm not strong enough. It's not the time, YET.
Don't be late, man. If you're feeling like I'm feeling, then let's get it started.

Noon, 20th Feb.

One living on the northern side, one living on the southern side. One keeping sending, one keeping replying. One being busy for something unknown, one being busy for waiting. One staying still, one staying uncool. One getting cold, one getting sole.

12:?? One sitting on the bench on the platform, one taking the metro to the platform.

12:37 Still, one sending, one receiving. One leaving, one standing. One yelling out the magical word, one looking forward.

12:39 Still, one leaving again, one standing again.

Waiting is still the only friend.
There is still no two, but two ones.

One Thing for Sure

Hell no! I wan planning to read two to three books to review and preview my civic law, but the truth is that no one really have determination to give up hanging out and sit in front of a desk to read each words on a textbook on New Year's holiday. When everyone around you is laughing about some funny jokes or watching a blockbuster on HBO, how can you focus on the lines and decode the abracadabra without being distracted? Well, it was pretty obvious that I totally failed to fulfill my plan for winter break. But who cares?!

Ha... Alright, I know lying on sofa and being a couch potato could be the most serious waste of time, but this is what people do to celebrate New Year, don't we? I admit that I'm just trying to save myself with some unreasonable excuses...

But there is still one thing that I'm still pretty interested and excited about. That's just a plan my friend suggested doing for a specific reason: buy a delicate notebook and write down what's on my mind. I guess I can do that since I can pretend write a blog on a real book instead typing them down on a web blog, which is exactly what I'm doing right now. Wish I had that perseverance and hope it's worth it. And then delicate it to someone.

Sleepover

We've loved sleepover since we were young. →

Talks are going to the peak when we can't stop shutting up our mouths. And the pitch is getting too high to stand even we are miles away from passers-by. This is the way we gather toghether and share those gossipy moment to pass our boring winter break. Ha! Who can say there is another recreation that's more awesome than having a girls' talk and with a late bite, say Princles or chocolate chips?

Everybody knows, when it comes to chatting with girls, there is no end. It will never stop until the sky is falling down. The flow will keep running through each other like a thunderstorm hitting a town without precaution, loud and quick. Usually, how do we continue? Sleepover! Yea! How I love sleepover! We can stick our noses to each other and there is no need to worry about being overheard. At sleepover, we can lie down on the bed and still have a pillow fight at the same time. Everybody is in their pajamas, so it's much easier to confide in and tell the truth! Since pajamas bring comfort which will decrease the alertness, the real words will easily come out from mouths. Actually, I do think that it feels like getting drunk. You will feel there is no need to hide anything at all because everyone is mentally naked!

Here is the best for sleepover: Truth or dare.

Truth or dare? Dare? No, you chicken!
You can't choose dare at sleepover because you are at private and dare means nothing except at the public.
Truth or dare? Truth? Yes! Watch out to get bitten!
We will like to thank you for dedicating your secret story to your best friends! Ha!
But for those who are listeners, don't be too excited, later, you will find out your most inside story will become the next topic.

One rule only: don't spread out what you hear at sleepover.
Every gain comes from sacrifice.

Battered Wife Syndrome

Ever since we were born, we were brought with a wish of living heathily and happily and no more else. That's pretty right and common to hear a mother-to-be say or a mom in labor cry out, "Just live its own life and nothing's important at all." But the truth is that when a life starts, the wish never ends.

After a series of diapers changing and a hundreds of baby nursing at nights, parents will start looking forward to watching their kid climbing up and shining out. They give their endless love unconditionally, even though it seems not unconditional. It is unconditional only when their kids understand they shouldn't take it for granted. Somehow, most of the time, they don't.

Everyone is born to have the look which nobody else has. Each face is unique, and each smile is priceless. We are supposed to appreciate the difference but, unfortunately, we live in a world that difference is usually not respected.

It is media that should be charged with the first degree murder of killing the difference between each one. Magazines tell us how a girl should show their tits to get close to the definition of being hot. News broadcast how a cute guy should work out and show off their muscles at the beach which causes a thunder of scream by girls. Heroes are not born, they are made. And so do monsters.

Even though, from the first day of school to the graduation, appearance has always been said to be ignored and beside the point of success, still, you can always find out that is totally wrong. The cruelest truth is that appearance matters a lot more than your imagination.

High school is like an American Top Model competition. Nerds get picked on by jocks due to their lack of puberty and social skills. Geeks get bullied by popular kids because of their skinny arms and weakeness. They don't look cool, and then they will be labeled as "mommy's pet." They don't look strong and they will be shoved to the locker rooms with punches. They don't choose to attack other kids so that they are treated as those who are attacked. Instead of other little reasons, appearance and tardiness of puberty lead them to the path of mistreatment in a place where danger is never predicted: school.

At dinner, parents are always trying to care about how the school is going. They ask, they listen. Instead of reviewing all the bloody plots, bullied kids usually tend to respond like nothing happened. They don't want to talk about it, since saying it out always backfires in the end and how come they would like to run through it again in details and embarrassment? They asnwer, they lie.

Lie needs another lie to cover. More lies, more pressure. When all those mixed feelings come together and push an immature kid to wander. Nothing good is going to happen. Instead, here comes the revenge.

Then, shooting on campus pops up on the news.

One Less Lonely

When you woke up, finding yourself sweat all over and thinking you wake up too late, weird thing was that only thirty minutes had past. You definitely started to wonder what kind of dream was that or there was dream running in your head or not. It always sucked to forget all those blurry dreams were all about. Did human brains set up to forget dreams in the course of evolution? Or it was actually ourselves that intentionally erase the dreams from our memory due to protection. But how come we still died to know what dream was all about when we were awake?

From time to time, some dreams remain clearer than ice cubes, than anything else, no matter how sweet or how terrible those dreams are. But, still, no matter how sweet they are, some dreams fade away without trace. And this is what bothers me the most.

If the dream is about flunking civil law, I think I can take that. Because a lazy student needs to be knocked out to understanf how risky it is to be kicked out of the classroom before it is true. But, what if the story is the same as my daydream? Couldn't it be more awesome to dream a sweet dream without control, or at least without consciousness? Wish I could pack them or put them in a closed box.

Cheesy.

Crawl

Blindness
Do you know how strong it is?
Each word leads to daydream
Each pop-up means everything
Does everything really mean nothing?

Lost
Ripple leaves trace of thinking
Pity is that I cannot see clearly
How should I make it easy?
A world of sweetness and sourness

Hope I can get over all that wishful thinking
Keep lying to myself until it's true
Unveil the mystery of crossword guessing
And the answer is definitely uoy

Empire State of Mind by Jay-Z ft. Alicia Keys

Empire State of Mind, Emipre State of the World, New York State!




[Chorus]
In New York,
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There’s nothing you can’t do
Now you’re in New York,
These streets will make you feel brand new
The lights will inspire you
Let's hear it for New York, New York, New York

[Chorus]
In New York,
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There’s nothing you can’t do
Now you’re in New York,
These streets will make you feel brand new
The lights will inspire you
Let's hear it for New York, New York, New York

[Alicia Keys]
One hand in the air for the big city
Street lights, big dreams all looking pretty
No place in the World that can compare
Put your lighters in the air
Everybody say yeah
come on, come on, yeah

[Chorus]
[End]

Choose Not to Answer

Reality always stings me no matter how hard I try to escape or pretend not to face. It's not bad though, like the medicine you take whenever you get dizzy without any notice of danger. Parents are usually those who shower me a bag of truth needed shouldered, and the response I make is definitely an unhelpful and irresponsible one, say "Yea, right."

What should I do? Study all the time? I know a mountain of textbooks digested effectively can probably bring me expectation and, in a better way, lead me to success. But that's is just gonna happen with a chance of uncertainty. It is truth that efforts can, in general, raise the percentage of getting over barriers, but it's more true that fate is not written by myself. How should I keep going without knowing where to go? It feels like keeping running to the horizons which I will never reach. Worthless, useless.

People around me, since years past, have started to bombed me questions like, "What will you do?" "Any plans?" "You sure you like law?" Well, I can answer all those questions, though I didn't. Since words count, I'm afraid that once it is out of my mouth, everyone will wait and see how you perform and fail. And later they will tell you, "It's ok! Everybody does, but you just shouldn't do that in the first place." Then, why did you guys ask me in the very beginning? See? There is no reasons why I should tell you all that wishful thinking because it means nothing!

I'm glad that I'm pretty blessed to have such a wonderful family so that I don't have to deal with butter and bread. Moreover, my parents always remind me to cross the t's and dot the i's to avoid any risk of falling from the edge of peak. They are always there, I know, to hit the ceiling whenever I go astray and help me stand my ground whenever I map out the future I wish.

I understand why people ask those questions, but I just can't stand the look they give me when I don't want to answer or just simply pretend that I have no idea. In this case, it seems that privacy issue is not involved, since they see their questions as a way to care about me without noticing that the answers are still my privacy which I can choose whether to expose or not. It' about promise as well.

Addicted to Sounds

There is a group of people who listen to English or foreign songs only, while most of them sing them without memorising the lyrics, titles or the artists. They choose whatever sounds great and let it flow away. What really matters is the melody. Why bothers to name all the artists or titles?

Well, I do. Once a CD is put on, I've got to recognize the artist or even the song's name. There is no reason why I love doing this, and there is no way to describe how excited I am when the artist's name come out from my mouth according to the voice only. This has been and always will be my little pleasure, speaking of music. Two of my friends can do this and love doing this, too. This can be another chat beside our girl's talk. When the music is on, the brainstorm begins. I'm glad there is one more person loving to do this. To my surprise, I'm only a beginner since even Frankie J and Michelle Branch are nothing but a piece of cake to her.

How does it feel when being beat down? Sucks! Ha! But it's awesome. It's amazing to find another one to share the same interests. I bet we can talk by sending songs to each other, because the titles say all. And my iPod is waiting for you.

Speak

Aha! I'm finally back! I had been overwhelmed by the most heavy finals I had ever had. That resulted in 1 post in December, and now the first post in 2010, even though almost half of January has past. This semester I took 25 credits which I thought my sophomore year would be fulfilled and hard-working. I was proud that I had more credits than others at first, but in the end, I was totally regretful. Seriously regretful! I must admit the stress and tension had gone too far for me to handle with. But what on the earth pushed me to select those courses was that I really wanted to unveil the mystery of law. Yes, I mean "law." I wasn't interested in law at all before I majored in law. It used to be an image of a mountain of books and something for nerds. The symbol of lawyers that Hollywood movies give us is usually cold-blood and, at times, too holy to be real. I never planned to stand in a court or even speak to the Judges. I can't speak!

Since I was little, I have always told that speech or public speaking would never be my career. The public had always been my biggest fear. But, nobody ever told me this kind of ability could be trained! Well, some of the speakers, like B.Obama, Bruce Y.H.Liao, (XD) are born to be! They just can catch your eyes and let your minds be drunk. Every words coming out from their mouths are priceless, no matter which way they put it. I truly wish I could be one of them! To be a leader, besides charisma, power of speech, I believe, is the invisible weapon to control the crowd without failure. I guess some of the law students are pretty afraid of speaking in public, since what they are usually talking to are books or textbooks, which don't make any response or comments needed. And I, needless to say, am one of those who need to be trained to speak in front of people.

There is no doubt that law, as an oldest field that have last for centuries, is a subject hard to be digest, and absorb. Even for those who have taste it for the rest of their lives, from time to time, law books are still uneatable. How could you expect any layman to listen to any legal terms or understand any reasons that cases represent. Therefore, a translator is much more important than anything else. Who can be the translator? Spearker! A speaker of law. A speaker who study in law and know how to put it in a way that anyone can take it as a famous public debate. Stir the words, and the tide will be in. This is what law is for, not to cause the fight, but to teach them how to fight within boundaries. Of course, the speaker is the one with the sword.