I haven't thought of a proper prompt yet though :(
At the time of writing, I have approximately 6,877,200,000 jealousies and counting. I am jealous with everyone. On. This. Earth.
The moment I walked into my new class in Singapore, I was already envious of my Singaporean classmates. To my untrained ears, they all spoke English with such perfection, eloquence and sophistication that conveniently destroyed my confidence with English and cruelly strangled whatever syllable in my throat. To compensate for this, I vowed to read as many novels as possible in an attempt to force-feed my vocabulary with bombastic words with which I could sound refined when I speak and write. Even when my local teachers did not have much faith in foreign scholars' ability in English and Literature. Even when my fellow scholars "got their focus right" and went on to win all kinds of prizes in science, while I was still stuck in a rut, trying to wrestle with the task of not falling asleep reading Wuthering Heights. My jealousy got the better of me.
I became weary of this jealousy after a while. It was not that I thought reading classic novels would not aid in my learning of the language, but I would have liked the process to be more enjoyable. I had always had no patience with novels, especially those with generic plots and little relevance to the modern life, and thought that their only audiences were those sentimental people, who had too much free time in their hands to weep for fictional people with whom they had no business with whatsoever. However, now that I had set up this task, I felt obligated to follow it through, which meant submitting to more boredom and putting up with my roommates' constant nagging about my tendency to leave the light on and read novels before I slept and deny them the chance to put their blankets on and sleep before I did.
Naturally, I felt jealous with "those sentimental people", who could appreciate the beauty of novels but whom I used to despise. Looking through the internet to find scathing Wuthering Heights reviews that would justify my boredom, I found myself instead err in the opposite direction. Apparently, the pain and anguish portrayed have intrigued millions of people around the world. I was amazed by the emotional impact it has on past readers. I was equally fascinated by how such a simple plot could be effectively harnessed to embody complex themes, if literary analysis on Sparksnotes was to be trusted. However, I read it the second time, and still, Wuthering Heights could not be listed in the (empty) Favorite Books section under my Facebook page's Info tab. I was horribly jealous of those people for possessing all sorts of intuitions, sensations and perceptions that I so happened to lack, but at the same time, was surprised by my sudden interest in literary analysis.
I was scouring the internet to find ways to improve my emotional faculty when I realized that apparently novels often have multiple different interpretations, and that reviewers recount different experiences when reading the same text. Something in the ambiguous nature of novels appealed to me, as I realized that reading novels, unlike studying science, has room for all kinds of explanations, which allowed for these countless debates and unique responses, and one is not forced to follow anyone's particular opinion. Moreover, it seemed to me that only a person who has gone through a heartbreaking isolation from his or her loved one could absorb the intensity of Heathcliff's love for Catherine. Yes, you need experiences to be able to have that emotional journey when reading novels. Therefore, I set off on my new quest: to gain as many life experiences as possible. This quest has been fulfilling. Naturally, I grew increasingly interested in novels and the arts.
There was a time when I scorned a quote that says, "The secret of happiness is not in doing what you like but in liking what you do". I thought it only taught us to settle with what we have and prevented us from realizing our full ability, and so I thought a life of jealousy was ideal. However, I realized that an ideal life should comprise a complex interplay of those two factors, jealousy and settlement. We need jealousy to motivate us to stretch ourselves and push for that lofty goal, but we also need settlement to give us the resilience needed to reach it. And I hope I have found that perfect combination. (749 words)
Thank you all so much:)
At the time of writing, I have approximately 6,877,200,000 jealousies and counting. I am jealous with everyone. On. This. Earth.
The moment I walked into my new class in Singapore, I was already envious of my Singaporean classmates. To my untrained ears, they all spoke English with such perfection, eloquence and sophistication that conveniently destroyed my confidence with English and cruelly strangled whatever syllable in my throat. To compensate for this, I vowed to read as many novels as possible in an attempt to force-feed my vocabulary with bombastic words with which I could sound refined when I speak and write. Even when my local teachers did not have much faith in foreign scholars' ability in English and Literature. Even when my fellow scholars "got their focus right" and went on to win all kinds of prizes in science, while I was still stuck in a rut, trying to wrestle with the task of not falling asleep reading Wuthering Heights. My jealousy got the better of me.
I became weary of this jealousy after a while. It was not that I thought reading classic novels would not aid in my learning of the language, but I would have liked the process to be more enjoyable. I had always had no patience with novels, especially those with generic plots and little relevance to the modern life, and thought that their only audiences were those sentimental people, who had too much free time in their hands to weep for fictional people with whom they had no business with whatsoever. However, now that I had set up this task, I felt obligated to follow it through, which meant submitting to more boredom and putting up with my roommates' constant nagging about my tendency to leave the light on and read novels before I slept and deny them the chance to put their blankets on and sleep before I did.
Naturally, I felt jealous with "those sentimental people", who could appreciate the beauty of novels but whom I used to despise. Looking through the internet to find scathing Wuthering Heights reviews that would justify my boredom, I found myself instead err in the opposite direction. Apparently, the pain and anguish portrayed have intrigued millions of people around the world. I was amazed by the emotional impact it has on past readers. I was equally fascinated by how such a simple plot could be effectively harnessed to embody complex themes, if literary analysis on Sparksnotes was to be trusted. However, I read it the second time, and still, Wuthering Heights could not be listed in the (empty) Favorite Books section under my Facebook page's Info tab. I was horribly jealous of those people for possessing all sorts of intuitions, sensations and perceptions that I so happened to lack, but at the same time, was surprised by my sudden interest in literary analysis.
I was scouring the internet to find ways to improve my emotional faculty when I realized that apparently novels often have multiple different interpretations, and that reviewers recount different experiences when reading the same text. Something in the ambiguous nature of novels appealed to me, as I realized that reading novels, unlike studying science, has room for all kinds of explanations, which allowed for these countless debates and unique responses, and one is not forced to follow anyone's particular opinion. Moreover, it seemed to me that only a person who has gone through a heartbreaking isolation from his or her loved one could absorb the intensity of Heathcliff's love for Catherine. Yes, you need experiences to be able to have that emotional journey when reading novels. Therefore, I set off on my new quest: to gain as many life experiences as possible. This quest has been fulfilling. Naturally, I grew increasingly interested in novels and the arts.
There was a time when I scorned a quote that says, "The secret of happiness is not in doing what you like but in liking what you do". I thought it only taught us to settle with what we have and prevented us from realizing our full ability, and so I thought a life of jealousy was ideal. However, I realized that an ideal life should comprise a complex interplay of those two factors, jealousy and settlement. We need jealousy to motivate us to stretch ourselves and push for that lofty goal, but we also need settlement to give us the resilience needed to reach it. And I hope I have found that perfect combination. (749 words)
Thank you all so much:)
