Stumbled on a new radio station

I've just recently (by which I mean the day before yesterday) thought of using an Internet radio app with my iPod amplifiers to replace my actual, old and broken as anything radio. I like the smaller radio stations rather than the large commercial ones because there's literally no ads or segments other than music except the occasional reminder of the name of the station you're listening to.

Right now I'm listening to Light Digital, Melbourne's digital Christian station. Which, obviously, plays Christina themed songs. It's what I think is called religious pop or Christian pop or something, it's like regular pop songs, but they all have lyrics about Christianity. I really really like them. The melodies all fall squarely inside my most comfortable and familiar and most loved sort of music listening area (is there a word for this? they really fit my music tastes?) I like them much better than what most of the other stations are playing, I don't like rapping or really loud music with little to no melody. The music Light Digital is playing just sound really comfortable for me. Listening to radio is always hit and miss, but in the past hour I've only heard one song that I didn't care for (it got a bit too rock and roll with repetitive melody). That's pretty good for me, usually I don't really like one in three songs.

Some of the lyrics of the songs that the guys sing sounds like they're singing about relationships before you find out in the next verse that it's about Jesus. This says something about contemporary love songs with all their hyperbolic cliches like "eternal love" and everything. At least with the Christian songs they actually mean eternal love.

Implicit Discrimination

I thought, and I would be the first to admit that I'm very sheltered, that because of the policy of multiculturalism, that discrimination isn't bad in Australia, or at least, a lot better than some other countries. But just because something is better doesn't mean it shouldn't continue to change. Australia is better than a lot of other countries in terms of discrimination, but even if explicit discrimination doesn't exist, implicit discrimination is still abound.

Falling into a rountine, and that's a good thing

Noise From Silence 3 by Shel-yang

It's the end of my third week at Sydney Girls High School. I'm settling down into a routine, I know when to wake up, what train to catch, how to get to classrooms, who to sit with at lunch and where to sit in classes. It's no where as bad as I thought it might be. I was lonely before, but now that I've been adopted into a group, I'm okay.

What homework?



Noise From Silence 9 by Shel-yang

 I'm sure you've seen this happen before too. The teacher says, "while you're doing that I'll check the homework", and half the class, in perfect unison, choruses "What homework?"

Even after the stolen generation

We were all taught as part of mandatory Australian history about the stolen generation, about how Aboriginal children were taken away from their family and sent to Christian missionaries. We know that they were treated badly, used as cheap labor and abused physically, and sometimes, sexually. Yesterday when going over Samson and Delilah, there was a part of the summary that said Gonzo "found accommodation with Christians". My English tutor made a comment that it might be taken in a negative light, and told me something experienced by a friend of his.

My Aspirations and Interests

When I was little I wanted to be an author. It seemed the obvious choice since I love reading so much. When I was little I used to be praised for my writing. Now I'm finding that even I'm not able to get into reading my own writing. Whether that's because I've read a lot more now and know what good writing is or my writing has gotten worse doesn't matter. I don't like the stories I'm writing now, so once I've read through them some time later I can't finish them. I tried to edit some of my old stories but they just seem so boring now. I co-wrote a long-ish story with Li Sa, each of us writing a page or so  and alternating. I'm thinking I might tidy that up, grammar and plot wise. Because we didn't know where we were going sometimes, there are abandoned plot lines and bits of foreshadowing that are just forgotten about.

Conversation with a friend



Bittersweet by JL89

 I was talking with a friend yesterday, and we came to the topic of talking with other people. I said that often when I chat with people, I would think of something to say, but I would stop and think about whether or not I should say them. Some of the times I would come to the conclusion that I probably shouldn't say them, but I'm not a person that says a lot anyway, so I seem like I'm not participating in the conversation at all. But sometimes when I've worked out I could say them so I don't say anything. Even when I do say them, I give the impression that I'm just a beat slower than everyone else.

Rain

It's raining. The sounds come in clearly through the window: the faint, even pita-pata of raindrops on pavement; the quiet low rumble of faraway thunder, reassuring rather than frightening; the rustling of the trees bending and shuffling in the wind; the occasional sound of cars driving past my window, tires flicking up water and making a "shaaaaaa" sound on the wet ground.

Once in a while the cool breeze sents the wet, clean smell of rain into the room. The cool tendrils of air caress my hands, or feet, or face, and disperse into nothing, leaving only the impression of a slight chill on my skin. The world is cleansed by the rain, and the memories of heavy, sweltering days are washed away. The air seems lighter, as if a cool hand had lifted a smothering veil of warm air.

No one strays outside, no sound of frolicking children down the street, all evidence of human presence is diminished. The clattering of mahjong next door that was heard several nights in a row is missing, insects that screamed in the heat are silent, even the streetlights seem dimmed and the lights from houses across the streets are absent all together.

The sky darkens into night, the rain peters off. But for the the steady dripping of water from the roof, all is quiet.

My English tutor says my writing is lacking in descriptions, has too many long sentences and too many commas. I'm trying to work the description bit first. And because I love rain, of course.

The Present

We stand at the sole meeting point of two diverging eternities, the past and the future. Before this instant is the unchangeable past, set in something stronger than stone and untouchable beyond the barrier of time. After this instant is the uncertain future, fickle and fragile like crepe paper butterflies. The only time we can act in is the moment of here and now.

Where did this come from? Constructive criticism?