Colour My World.

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You know, there really hasn't been much to blog about lately. Apart from studying, and exams, and being busy busy busy.


Oooh, I am proud of myself for coming up with a prettyyy detailed studying timetable for like from yesterday to the end of the exams (26th June 2009). Sad right! My exams last for so long. =(

They're pretty spread out, which is a REALLY good thing.. but then I finish on the LAST day of the exam period. EVEN BETTER... it's the LAST exam on the LAST exam day of the exam period. Sighhhh.

Anyway.


12th June - Music Psychology 60% Research Essay due.
17th June - Psychology (Mind, Brain & Behaviour 1) exam.
23rd June - Knowing Nature exam.
26th June - French exam.


My study schedule chart thing is pretty. =) It's got neat lines and days and dates and colour coded subjects. Heeee. Now comes the hard part.. actually STICKING to the study schedule. -.-

Blah.

Anyway, here's a nice post from my cousin's blog!

What a loaded question... See, it seems to me, that a lot of people claim to love or to be loved without ever really even understanding what love is, confusing it with the giddy excitement that stems of young passion.

Love.

It's a loaded word. One you may yearn or dread to hear simply because of all the implications it brings with it. Everyone tries to understand love as one emotion, one feeling. It's not. What is love?

Love is like. It's that infatuation that never seems to go away, that every time you look at them your day gets that little bit brighter. It's how they can still take your breath away and make your heart beat that much faster no matter how long you've been together. It's falling again every time you see them, just like the first time.

Love is loyalty. It's staying even when times are tough and things are hard. It's being willing to stay and work through these times and these things. It's being faithful even if you are tempted. And its staying faithful, willingly, so that at the end of the day, there are no regrets.

Love is lust. It's that sexual desire where you can't get enough of them. It's that shiver that goes down your spine when their hands brush against you in the barest of gestures and the haze that clouds your mind when their lips touch yours.

Love is comfort, friendship, familiarity. It's when at the end of the day you know the other person, love them as you may, is imperfect and you're imperfect and you're both ok with that. It's when you know that you can't always be sweet and sexy and the best of who you are 24-7 (in fact most times you might be irrational and unreasonable) and some days you just want to hang out in sweats and t-shirts and talk about the broken sink.

Love is that little bit of pride. When you're proud of them and you want to show them off and introduce them to every you know, and maybe everyone you don't. When you're not embarrassed to take their hand and say to the world, "He/she's mine."

Love is that little bit of jealousy. It's that over-protectiveness that comes from wanting to know that they are yours, they belong to you so to speak, and they won't ever leave. It's that prick of feeling between annoyance and anger at the smallest threat that they will.

Love is that little bit of luck. It's being in the right place, knowing each other at the right time, being surrounded by the right people. And if you calculate the probability, statistically speaking, for two people to meet and fall in love and stay in love, well, it's a virtual impossibility. And yet it happens...

Because love is that little bit of faith. It's the trust in yourself, the trust in the other person and when all is said and done, the trust in the concept of 'us' because you can't fight for something you don't believe in.

Most of all, love is that little bit of hate. It's how they inspire the kind of anger and frustration in you that nobody can even get close to doing. It's how they can be such a pain-in-the-ass because they know just what buttons to push and how best to get on your nerves. Strange? Not really... If you didn't care, it wouldn't matter and you wouldn't hate. So that bit of hate? It tells you that you care about what they're doing.

And love is forgiveness. No matter what they've done or what they've said, at the end of the day, all the anger evaporates. And you don't even mind, you are content because, at the end of the day, being right is not as important as being happy.

Love is not one emotion in itself but a mixture of all the dozen other emotions out there concentrated into one person. Love is liking. Love is loyalty. Love is lust. Love is friendship. Love is pride. Love is luck and love is faith. Love is just that little bit of hate and jealousy. And love is forgiveness. You can quote me on that.

So there you go. Any fool can be in love but to love, to really love... now that is something.

Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

-St Augustine, Captain Corelli's Mandolin-

Heh, my sneaky way of updating without actually updating.. shhhhh, don't tell anyone!!

Heee.

Okay I should get back to that essay. Sigh.

What about now?