I didn’t like English. Wait... No, I hated English. Since elementary school, where English was first introduced to this plain little 3 rd grader girl, I hated it already. Unimportant, I insisted. In addition, my English teacher was sooo unbelievably annoying; an old man, lame, and like a fairytale bed story, always made me sleepy. I almost always slept in that English class. Homeworks were done on the morning by looking at the others’ works. Don’t ask about my textbook.. sleek, clean-cut, and stay still; a forever new book. I made jokes when studying the English vocabularies and phrases, never took it seriously. About studying at home... Ugh, ain’t nobody got time for that?! Dictionary? That most boring thing ever exists in the world? No, thank you. I still had my conan and doraemon comics to be read interestedly. Just being honest, it deeply didn’t make any sense for me, why do we have to learn the others’ language? It’s not like I’d be living in that country, well I even didn’t...
Thoughts, feelings, opinions.. a diary of how I see life, or, how life sees me.