My OperaHeavy-hearted
Saturday, October 17, 2009 4:23:03 PM
There's been something wrong with me these days. I don't seem able to break away from this sense of sadness. I feel it, but cannot touch it. I know not from whence it came. It just stays here, inside me, ensnaring my heart, paralyzing my mind. I cannot concentrate. I have lost motivation. I just feel sad.
Today's Saturday. A normal Saturday for me should begin with a ritual of news checking and idioms practicing. But this morning did not see the norm. I've been undergoing a lack of sleep for the last few days, which has hindered me from getting out of the bed at the right time. Tiredness grabs me, drawing my 52 kilo body toward the soft thin bed. I didn't even touch any book today. An hour after dragging myself from the sleep place, I got my bike out and headed toward the training center where I took the driving exam. It was a 15-minute journey. I received my license and went back home. Parking my bike neatly by the tiny sideways leading to my room, I unlocked the door to my private shelter and turned on the music to please my nerves. I simply didn't have the least inspiration to get a finger out and see to my daily work. I seated myself next to the computer table, indulging in the heart-melting musical notes pervading like a dense cloud over my head. Hunger soon came into play, and after satisfying my appetite, it was time to give in to sleepiness. I took to bed and waited for the alarm clock to do its job: to remind me to go to the church to make my confession.
Almost all Saturday, I pay visits to a church nearby to 'get things off my chest'. Though I've always come across as a highly moral Christian, I doubt my righteousness. As to the Ten Commandments of the Lord, I can safely say that nearly all of them are well kept. But I have to draw the line at the 6th rule. The problem involves privacy and sensitiveness, thus I should prefer not to bring it into discussion here. However, my inability to refrain from this temptation has provoked substantial thought for years. I first fell when I was at grade 10, and now that 3 years have elapsed, I still keep falling, never to appear to stand up rightly. The kind of sin I've committed all too often is regarded among others as the worst and most disgusted. But even with that in mind, I cannot defeat Satan. Recently, things have really gone from worse to worse. I don't disgust this sin anymore. I watch myself succumb to evil with just a stone heart. No emotions arise. No contempt sparks off. I feel perfectly normal to go against the word of God. I have really gone off the rails. I should not wish to become one of 'the seeds that fell by the roadside, and the birds came and ate them'. I am absolutely aware things are to be back to the way they used to be. That's way I make confession so often.
The confession never lasts for so long. It starts at 2 pm, at which time the church is often crowded. So in order to be on the safe side, I usually arrive at 1:45. When I've driven my bike into the church yard, I get off and walk it to the parking place. Then I proceed into the inner church, where the statue of Jesus hung upon the enormous cross takes pride of place. I make a cross and take a seat somewhere to the rightmost line of chairs. I pray a little bit, often distracted by wandering thought preoccupied with study and sadness and music. Then the vicar turns up and I head toward him. After the 'breast cleaning' session, I pray again, surrender my own spiritual sacrifice to the Lord, so that my sins will all be erased and the sheet of my soul turns bright again. It sounds rather serious, but the actual sacrifice was really a piece of cake.
There is, crudely speaking, nothing to it. Reading 10 times the 'Our Father' or the 'Hail Mary' is really child's play, but that is all that is needed. The Lord does not force me to give up my luxury - in this case meaning my comfortable flat and my 2 bikes and all the books I have and the interneted computer and the newly-purchased printer - for the sake of hardship or to volunteer my time to help those in need or those living on the bread line or those suffering from incurable illness. The heart of the sacrifice lies in the true sense of repentance. If I repent on what I have done wrong and desire to turn my back from it, I am saved, and the gate of heaven is open to me. But everything is perhaps too easily obtained that it more often than not slips through my finger. I still offend God. I don't keep His word. I acknowledge Him not before others. I deny Him where darkness reigns. I need to turn over a new leaf. I haven't come up with and effective plan, but I believe God will give me the strength I need.
Back to the course of this Saturday, after the visit to the church, I rode to school and spent the rest of my afternoon in class. It was the speaking class. And the class leaves an awful lot to be desired. I haven't experienced any inspiring and useful speaking class for the last 11 years of English learning, but I can bet all I have on this: this speaking class sucks. I have no clue as to why such a 'institutional' teacher should organize and lead the class in such a way. The students occupy the room first, and a few minutes later the teacher enters. He begins to put up several questions and then tucks himself into a seat at the back, putting his attentive ears to the students delivering their pre'sen'tation (that's the way he reads the word). Nothing surrounds the classroom but dead boredom. There is definitely no point in doing so. There are huge bugs in the methodologies of almost all the teachers in this English Department. I won't elaborate on this, as this class has basically nothing to write home about. So, after being released from the suffocating swamped mini prison, I went straight home and got something to eat. A thought suddenly sprung to mind. And I phoned my friend, preparing for a night on the town.
Since I had nothing to do and did not want to do a thing, I decided to do some sight-seeing around the city center. I had 2 friends as company, but they were just busy talking to each other. Anyway, I often enjoy my cup of tea alone. And the trip soon began. We first went to the Notre Dam Church, which is rumoured to be the ideal place for couples to stretch their legs after hours of walking along the brightly lit streets of Sai Gon. In actual fact, it was pretty dark at the area when we passed, so there was no way to specify the words from the grapevine. Some people seemed to be praying there, but we did not want to join them, as the mind often goes astray in the middle of the road. The church stands out in the heart of the city. We soon found ourselves at the City Theatre. Nothing was going inside. But the building did please the eyes. Then, dead on our feet (my 2 friends were on their bicycle pedaling for almost 1 hour), we stopped by and played the watch-game. My friends were quite fascinated about foreign tourists coming to Vietnam. They watched them and were full of praise as to how handsome and lovely and pretty and cute and big and tall and exotic they looked. I only sat there and had a brief phone call. Then I allowed the noise of traffic and the laughters of the 2 lefters to fill my mind. I felt much better. But I was not so sure if the blissful feeling was going to last. Realizing that time did not permit us any longer, we had to go back home.
I led them to the place from which they would be OK on their own. Then, my home run took its turn. It was quite late, thus the traffic was quite light. I got home much earlier than expected. I did some washing up and turned on the computer.
I am sitting in front of it now, typing my thoughts into words. I don't know what the main reason is, but I think of her more than a hint in recent days. The brief phone I made was to her. Nothing will be more pleasant than a day out with this person. The thirst for chances to kick off conversations has lingered about for so long, but has never been quenched. I wish to know more about her, to have a better image of this personality, to understand what makes this outstanding character tick. Much remains to be seen. I do not have the heart to proclaim anything, for it is all but a mess inside my heart. Time will tell. I need time.
Future hinges on the present.
Today's Saturday. A normal Saturday for me should begin with a ritual of news checking and idioms practicing. But this morning did not see the norm. I've been undergoing a lack of sleep for the last few days, which has hindered me from getting out of the bed at the right time. Tiredness grabs me, drawing my 52 kilo body toward the soft thin bed. I didn't even touch any book today. An hour after dragging myself from the sleep place, I got my bike out and headed toward the training center where I took the driving exam. It was a 15-minute journey. I received my license and went back home. Parking my bike neatly by the tiny sideways leading to my room, I unlocked the door to my private shelter and turned on the music to please my nerves. I simply didn't have the least inspiration to get a finger out and see to my daily work. I seated myself next to the computer table, indulging in the heart-melting musical notes pervading like a dense cloud over my head. Hunger soon came into play, and after satisfying my appetite, it was time to give in to sleepiness. I took to bed and waited for the alarm clock to do its job: to remind me to go to the church to make my confession.
Almost all Saturday, I pay visits to a church nearby to 'get things off my chest'. Though I've always come across as a highly moral Christian, I doubt my righteousness. As to the Ten Commandments of the Lord, I can safely say that nearly all of them are well kept. But I have to draw the line at the 6th rule. The problem involves privacy and sensitiveness, thus I should prefer not to bring it into discussion here. However, my inability to refrain from this temptation has provoked substantial thought for years. I first fell when I was at grade 10, and now that 3 years have elapsed, I still keep falling, never to appear to stand up rightly. The kind of sin I've committed all too often is regarded among others as the worst and most disgusted. But even with that in mind, I cannot defeat Satan. Recently, things have really gone from worse to worse. I don't disgust this sin anymore. I watch myself succumb to evil with just a stone heart. No emotions arise. No contempt sparks off. I feel perfectly normal to go against the word of God. I have really gone off the rails. I should not wish to become one of 'the seeds that fell by the roadside, and the birds came and ate them'. I am absolutely aware things are to be back to the way they used to be. That's way I make confession so often.
The confession never lasts for so long. It starts at 2 pm, at which time the church is often crowded. So in order to be on the safe side, I usually arrive at 1:45. When I've driven my bike into the church yard, I get off and walk it to the parking place. Then I proceed into the inner church, where the statue of Jesus hung upon the enormous cross takes pride of place. I make a cross and take a seat somewhere to the rightmost line of chairs. I pray a little bit, often distracted by wandering thought preoccupied with study and sadness and music. Then the vicar turns up and I head toward him. After the 'breast cleaning' session, I pray again, surrender my own spiritual sacrifice to the Lord, so that my sins will all be erased and the sheet of my soul turns bright again. It sounds rather serious, but the actual sacrifice was really a piece of cake.
There is, crudely speaking, nothing to it. Reading 10 times the 'Our Father' or the 'Hail Mary' is really child's play, but that is all that is needed. The Lord does not force me to give up my luxury - in this case meaning my comfortable flat and my 2 bikes and all the books I have and the interneted computer and the newly-purchased printer - for the sake of hardship or to volunteer my time to help those in need or those living on the bread line or those suffering from incurable illness. The heart of the sacrifice lies in the true sense of repentance. If I repent on what I have done wrong and desire to turn my back from it, I am saved, and the gate of heaven is open to me. But everything is perhaps too easily obtained that it more often than not slips through my finger. I still offend God. I don't keep His word. I acknowledge Him not before others. I deny Him where darkness reigns. I need to turn over a new leaf. I haven't come up with and effective plan, but I believe God will give me the strength I need.
Back to the course of this Saturday, after the visit to the church, I rode to school and spent the rest of my afternoon in class. It was the speaking class. And the class leaves an awful lot to be desired. I haven't experienced any inspiring and useful speaking class for the last 11 years of English learning, but I can bet all I have on this: this speaking class sucks. I have no clue as to why such a 'institutional' teacher should organize and lead the class in such a way. The students occupy the room first, and a few minutes later the teacher enters. He begins to put up several questions and then tucks himself into a seat at the back, putting his attentive ears to the students delivering their pre'sen'tation (that's the way he reads the word). Nothing surrounds the classroom but dead boredom. There is definitely no point in doing so. There are huge bugs in the methodologies of almost all the teachers in this English Department. I won't elaborate on this, as this class has basically nothing to write home about. So, after being released from the suffocating swamped mini prison, I went straight home and got something to eat. A thought suddenly sprung to mind. And I phoned my friend, preparing for a night on the town.
Since I had nothing to do and did not want to do a thing, I decided to do some sight-seeing around the city center. I had 2 friends as company, but they were just busy talking to each other. Anyway, I often enjoy my cup of tea alone. And the trip soon began. We first went to the Notre Dam Church, which is rumoured to be the ideal place for couples to stretch their legs after hours of walking along the brightly lit streets of Sai Gon. In actual fact, it was pretty dark at the area when we passed, so there was no way to specify the words from the grapevine. Some people seemed to be praying there, but we did not want to join them, as the mind often goes astray in the middle of the road. The church stands out in the heart of the city. We soon found ourselves at the City Theatre. Nothing was going inside. But the building did please the eyes. Then, dead on our feet (my 2 friends were on their bicycle pedaling for almost 1 hour), we stopped by and played the watch-game. My friends were quite fascinated about foreign tourists coming to Vietnam. They watched them and were full of praise as to how handsome and lovely and pretty and cute and big and tall and exotic they looked. I only sat there and had a brief phone call. Then I allowed the noise of traffic and the laughters of the 2 lefters to fill my mind. I felt much better. But I was not so sure if the blissful feeling was going to last. Realizing that time did not permit us any longer, we had to go back home.
I led them to the place from which they would be OK on their own. Then, my home run took its turn. It was quite late, thus the traffic was quite light. I got home much earlier than expected. I did some washing up and turned on the computer.
I am sitting in front of it now, typing my thoughts into words. I don't know what the main reason is, but I think of her more than a hint in recent days. The brief phone I made was to her. Nothing will be more pleasant than a day out with this person. The thirst for chances to kick off conversations has lingered about for so long, but has never been quenched. I wish to know more about her, to have a better image of this personality, to understand what makes this outstanding character tick. Much remains to be seen. I do not have the heart to proclaim anything, for it is all but a mess inside my heart. Time will tell. I need time.
Future hinges on the present.
