Search extract
Friday, March 17, 2006
Hey! I don't expect many people to see this the minute I get this up. My blog's been rotting anyway... But I still write, almost always just for the sake of the english portfolio. Here's what I extracted from Search because of the word limit. It's the better bit anyway...
Search
Lost
As I squeezed my way out of the coffee shop, my eyes shifted from one face to another, frantically searching for my new young friend and her "enemy-in-disguise". Where were they? I thought I glimpsed them striding out of the coffee shop and lunged forward, only to bump into a large unshaved man with unkempt hair and an unbuttoned top. I reeled back, muttered "sorry", then dashed past him into the walkway outside the shop. Lost. The couple had vanished from my sight.
I ran from block to block within that neighbourhood, determined to find her. Gone. Both were lost. Drenched in sweat but still charged up with energy, I gritted my teeth in frustration and gave the ground one hard stamp before whirling in the direction of my church where I gave voluntary tuition to less fortunate kids.
Unfelt?
There I saw her again, sitting at the very same spot in the coffee shop, but her table filled with more beer bottles than I have ever seen since the first day I saw her a one month ago. "Hey there again! I still haven't gotten to know your name," I managed to coerce a smile even though I was planning a lecture of "good counsel" in my head. The young girl looked up at me before lowering her eyes without a hint of recognition. She then emptied a full cup of beer down her throat.
I reached out my hand in preparation to pull back her hand again, should she reach out for the bottle again. That should set the tone right. But she just simply sat back and stared at the empty mug. Something in her eyes just melted my planned words of rebuke. It was so... familiar, so... tangible.
Lost for words, I took out my notebook, once again, as a natural reaction. Out of habit, I read the last paragraph of where I left off. "I figured those grownups don't know anything. What can they understand? What nonsense about "I can understand" and "I'll try to help you". At least, that was what I thought about with all that counseling I'm sent for. My parents never cared; what more those teachers and counselors."
Whoa, I thought. Yea, that was what I thought when I was younger. Could that be how this young lady is now viewing the world? That thought pulled me back, away from thoughts of giving this lady a "little lecture".
Slightly Felt?
I ordered two cups of iced Milo from the drink stall. Placing one in front of her, I settled down behind my own. "Try it my dear friend," I coded her on. I was soon sipping quickly on my cup, but she did no more than stare at the brown chocolaty drink.
"Well I've got a story to finish," I said, pulling out my notebook again. As I wrote, I tried to start up a conversation with her. I asked her about school, family, hobbies, pastimes, sports, fashion etc everything I could think of. I shared with her some of the things that I do, all the teaching, tutoring, counseling, and jogging. Sometimes I get so involved with my "topic of discussion" that I put down my pen and look, eyes shining with enthusiasm, straight at the gloomy face, no matter how dull the eyes I have to look into are.
However, the only response I get from her is the occasional raising of eyebrows, maybe as a result of wonder, question or maybe even challenge of how long I can continue. Regardless, I continued multitasking in this manner until I drank up the last of my Milo, while she on the other hand, had ordered a lot more beer bottles. I glanced at her cup of Milo. It was still full, untouched. Noticing my empty cup, she took her beer bottle and topped it up with the golden frothy liquid.
"Beer? No thanks. I am aware that moderate amounts of beer will assist in the workings of your mind but no thanks. It tastes horrible," I rose and poured the beer into a tiny nearby sink that I often see drunkards spitting into. The girl, as if rather aggravated, sprang up from her seat and glared face-to-face at me. "That's good beer you're wasting!" Hey, I thought to myself, her voice is not too bad. "I've paid up for you. I've bought you some Milo to make up for lose of beer, haven't I?" I retaliated, with a slight grin, quite unaware of whatever I was doing. "Now, do take a seat and drink up that good Milo."
Out of spite, she grabbed the cup of Milo and poured it down the same sink. Plopping herself back onto her seat, she poured herself another cup of beer. "Can't you see, my dear friend, that excessive consumption of alcohol is bad for you. It gets you on high for a minute then low on another. You end up doing things that you might not fully understand the true nature of." My knowledge kicked into action. With a similar reaction force, the teenage side of my brain gave me another kick. No lectures for teenagers. "I'm so sorry, but it'd be really horrible if your course of life fluctuates with your mood." "Who cares?" An almost defeated voice replied. "I do," I replied firmly. I meant it; can she feel it?
She slumped back in her chair, eyes staring down at her lap. I believe the emotions are locked within that chamber in her eyes, but I could not look into them.
Realization
Recalling our first meeting and her curiosity in my work, I picked up my notebook. "Hey do you want to read this? I've continued a lot from the last time you looked at it." Placing it on her lap, she flipped through the pages. Suddenly, she looked up. "Why are you writing about your fantasies of how my life is like? Why are you trying to place me in such a horrible life story? You got part of your story from my meeting with Wen Zheng did you? Stop imagining things will you?" She fired at me.
"So Wen Zheng is his name," I said thoughtfully. I smiled into those indignant eyes, "My dear friend, I'm not writing about you; I'm writing about me." I held that gaze for a few seconds while realization hit upon her. Turning her head away, she stared back at the notebook.
Glancing at my watch, I reached out for my notebook, saying, "I'm so sorry but I have to go. I'll try to finish my story as soon as possible. But I think you know much of the end of the story already don't you?"
Slinging my bag over my shoulders again, I headed off for home, where I had invited friends over for dinner. I will be back, my dear friend. Stopping in my tracks, I realised that I have not gotten to know her name. I whirled around, only to see her poised thoughtfully over the table of beer bottles, beer mugs and Milo cups. Not wanting to disturb her solitude of thoughts, I went on my way rather satisfied.
Is it ok to go without much of a climax? Ms tan will actually come after me for that... Well. I've got another story to post. I shan't post my expository though. DOubt many people will appreciate it.
Search
Lost
As I squeezed my way out of the coffee shop, my eyes shifted from one face to another, frantically searching for my new young friend and her "enemy-in-disguise". Where were they? I thought I glimpsed them striding out of the coffee shop and lunged forward, only to bump into a large unshaved man with unkempt hair and an unbuttoned top. I reeled back, muttered "sorry", then dashed past him into the walkway outside the shop. Lost. The couple had vanished from my sight.
I ran from block to block within that neighbourhood, determined to find her. Gone. Both were lost. Drenched in sweat but still charged up with energy, I gritted my teeth in frustration and gave the ground one hard stamp before whirling in the direction of my church where I gave voluntary tuition to less fortunate kids.
Unfelt?
There I saw her again, sitting at the very same spot in the coffee shop, but her table filled with more beer bottles than I have ever seen since the first day I saw her a one month ago. "Hey there again! I still haven't gotten to know your name," I managed to coerce a smile even though I was planning a lecture of "good counsel" in my head. The young girl looked up at me before lowering her eyes without a hint of recognition. She then emptied a full cup of beer down her throat.
I reached out my hand in preparation to pull back her hand again, should she reach out for the bottle again. That should set the tone right. But she just simply sat back and stared at the empty mug. Something in her eyes just melted my planned words of rebuke. It was so... familiar, so... tangible.
Lost for words, I took out my notebook, once again, as a natural reaction. Out of habit, I read the last paragraph of where I left off. "I figured those grownups don't know anything. What can they understand? What nonsense about "I can understand" and "I'll try to help you". At least, that was what I thought about with all that counseling I'm sent for. My parents never cared; what more those teachers and counselors."
Whoa, I thought. Yea, that was what I thought when I was younger. Could that be how this young lady is now viewing the world? That thought pulled me back, away from thoughts of giving this lady a "little lecture".
Slightly Felt?
I ordered two cups of iced Milo from the drink stall. Placing one in front of her, I settled down behind my own. "Try it my dear friend," I coded her on. I was soon sipping quickly on my cup, but she did no more than stare at the brown chocolaty drink.
"Well I've got a story to finish," I said, pulling out my notebook again. As I wrote, I tried to start up a conversation with her. I asked her about school, family, hobbies, pastimes, sports, fashion etc everything I could think of. I shared with her some of the things that I do, all the teaching, tutoring, counseling, and jogging. Sometimes I get so involved with my "topic of discussion" that I put down my pen and look, eyes shining with enthusiasm, straight at the gloomy face, no matter how dull the eyes I have to look into are.
However, the only response I get from her is the occasional raising of eyebrows, maybe as a result of wonder, question or maybe even challenge of how long I can continue. Regardless, I continued multitasking in this manner until I drank up the last of my Milo, while she on the other hand, had ordered a lot more beer bottles. I glanced at her cup of Milo. It was still full, untouched. Noticing my empty cup, she took her beer bottle and topped it up with the golden frothy liquid.
"Beer? No thanks. I am aware that moderate amounts of beer will assist in the workings of your mind but no thanks. It tastes horrible," I rose and poured the beer into a tiny nearby sink that I often see drunkards spitting into. The girl, as if rather aggravated, sprang up from her seat and glared face-to-face at me. "That's good beer you're wasting!" Hey, I thought to myself, her voice is not too bad. "I've paid up for you. I've bought you some Milo to make up for lose of beer, haven't I?" I retaliated, with a slight grin, quite unaware of whatever I was doing. "Now, do take a seat and drink up that good Milo."
Out of spite, she grabbed the cup of Milo and poured it down the same sink. Plopping herself back onto her seat, she poured herself another cup of beer. "Can't you see, my dear friend, that excessive consumption of alcohol is bad for you. It gets you on high for a minute then low on another. You end up doing things that you might not fully understand the true nature of." My knowledge kicked into action. With a similar reaction force, the teenage side of my brain gave me another kick. No lectures for teenagers. "I'm so sorry, but it'd be really horrible if your course of life fluctuates with your mood." "Who cares?" An almost defeated voice replied. "I do," I replied firmly. I meant it; can she feel it?
She slumped back in her chair, eyes staring down at her lap. I believe the emotions are locked within that chamber in her eyes, but I could not look into them.
Realization
Recalling our first meeting and her curiosity in my work, I picked up my notebook. "Hey do you want to read this? I've continued a lot from the last time you looked at it." Placing it on her lap, she flipped through the pages. Suddenly, she looked up. "Why are you writing about your fantasies of how my life is like? Why are you trying to place me in such a horrible life story? You got part of your story from my meeting with Wen Zheng did you? Stop imagining things will you?" She fired at me.
"So Wen Zheng is his name," I said thoughtfully. I smiled into those indignant eyes, "My dear friend, I'm not writing about you; I'm writing about me." I held that gaze for a few seconds while realization hit upon her. Turning her head away, she stared back at the notebook.
Glancing at my watch, I reached out for my notebook, saying, "I'm so sorry but I have to go. I'll try to finish my story as soon as possible. But I think you know much of the end of the story already don't you?"
Slinging my bag over my shoulders again, I headed off for home, where I had invited friends over for dinner. I will be back, my dear friend. Stopping in my tracks, I realised that I have not gotten to know her name. I whirled around, only to see her poised thoughtfully over the table of beer bottles, beer mugs and Milo cups. Not wanting to disturb her solitude of thoughts, I went on my way rather satisfied.
Is it ok to go without much of a climax? Ms tan will actually come after me for that... Well. I've got another story to post. I shan't post my expository though. DOubt many people will appreciate it.
