There is an elusive quality in beautiful writing, (such a paltry word to describe it and a limitation in itself, yet it does give some notion of what I mean), that ineluctably draws the eyes to savor it once again, that pauses the reader to dwell in the sheer vastness of what has been said and not said, that insinuates itself into the recesses of the mind to remain, indelible. Man Booker Prize winners, more often than not boast of such writing I speak of above, and tend to touch on complex themes: the human condition and the rest of the ilk. It is with a twinge of jealousy as I delight in the mastery of these word weavers, prize-winning or no, who transport me into their realm, in which everything is more tangible because it did not happen, but might have.

I'm not all that a determined person. Yesterday, I decided to throw caution to the winds and give up on studying. Not so much letting go of an exercise in futility (basically it means anything you don't get results for, which makes a lot of things) than a temporary banishment of the wretched books. Let the dice of fate, destiny and whatever powers that be govern our puny human lives play it out. Resigning to fate as they put it. And not for the first time, it occurred to me (not your usual blinding realisation, more of the slow, dawning kind that creeps up upon you) that this was but one of the numerous struggles I would have to face in the twisty, tiresome and best of all, uncertain path to Honours. So this act of giving up now could exact a barrage of repercussions on my studies; just when you thought the uphill struggle couldn't get any worse, a rockfall stares you in the face. 1 to Murphy's Law and 0 to you.
What can I do but to grin and bear it, I've made my bed and so must lie in it. Macbeth had the right mindset, even if it stemmed from the inappropriate source, resolute in his wrongdoings to the last. I can at least admire him for that. Doggedly do I forge on for I am in books. Stepped in so far, that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go over.

Mock Trial

Can't ever seem to blog punctually these days, and the delay chips away at the memories and motivation to even get it down here. Alright, Mock Trial! Guess it went pretty well despite the few hiccups (when I was totally baffled by Charmaine's questions), all the more so for her. The lecturer said Charmaine had the best Cross-Examination she had come across so far and I reveled vicariously in that compliment XD. I was relatively impressed with the air of composure and mien of steadfastness Charmaine and the defence lawyer exuded, never mind the occasional chinks under the relentless and piercing questions of the lecturer. Being a witness is incredibly fun; making up lies spontaneously and spouting untruths without any fear of censure adds to it! Perhaps I would make a good lawyer too! (Charmaine would certainly beg to differ on the implications of the two above statements)