When I mentioned that Nabakov's 'Lolita' could potentially be interesting reading material to Buaya over summer, he made this disgusted face and proclaimed vehemently that the concept of paedophilia, which was introduced in the book, was downright sick.
Nevertheless, I went ahead and picked up a copy, and have been reading it ever since.
Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.
Do people these days write like this anymore?
"There are two kinds of visual memory: one when you skillfully create an image in the laboratory of your mind with your eyes open…and the other when you instantly evoke, with shut eyes, on the dark innerside of your eyelids, the objective, absolutely optical replica of a beloved face, a ghost in natural colours...."
"It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight...."
I hadn't realised how fatigue had taken its toll on me until recently when my mum commented on how exhausted I seemed to look. Without realising it, I had let myself be enraptured in a steadily deteriorating mood-slump that often left me feeling more tired than I probably really was, and left me lamenting about the zillions of jobs that I was supposed to juggle all at once.
And then, as cliched as it may seem, the Lehmann Brothers hoo-ha left me realising that life is only full of uncertainties and unpleasant surprises, and we should appreciate it to the fullest as much as we could.
Really, you are only as busy and as exhausted as you let yourself be.
You are only as overworked and undervalued as you perceive yourself to be.
You only look as lifeless as you let yourself become.
At the end of the day, I realise that as much as the public perceives it to be otherwise, so much of medicine boils down to character building, and it is really up to us to grasp every opportunity and make the best of it before we are permanently moulded into people we don't even know anymore without realising it.
We live and we learn. I know I'm still doing it day by day
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