a little less than the girl next door (in_transit) wrote,
a little less than the girl next door
in_transit

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depressing disabilities

i don't know why anything audio simply flees my mind in two seconds yet visuals threaten to exist past two centuries in memory. i don't know why my mind's always full of stuff to say, and words, and sentences, i can translate with pen, paper or any keyboard of sorts yet when i open my mouth, nothing worthy comes out.

unless all energies are focussed on retaining what's heard, in lecture, sermon, any simple conversation, unless i repeat them over and over again (too many repetitives, yeah i know) in my head, unless images of words, sentence structures and stuff form in mind... nothing audio stays, otherwise. yet vivid scenes of mundane things, everyday life... standing under the wall clock when i was four, my exact seating in lt5 during math lect by david khor in year1, viewing gallery looking down at night farewell party '99, the sleeping man sitting opposite in the mrt with a blue-collared white t-shirt and blue 3310, another boy constantly tapping on his jpg wallet anxiously...... overcrowding what space there could have been left for "audio files".

worse, there're no "unless"es for my inability of proper, coherent, intelligent speech of substance, especially in formal events, with unfamiliar people... all in mind can never be materialised verbally, not for me. if one day i were removed from the computer, from smses, from pen and paper, from sticks and sand, whatever, i will surely die.

all such thought was conceived in church, during prayer, after sermon, today, when the pastor gave us 2 simple items to pray for amongst two or three of ourselves. i was to lead this short prayer between my sis and dad today... i thank the Lord that i remembered enough of what we were to pray for, 'tho pastor lee had just said it less than a minute ago. words in my head simply couldn't be translated to speech... fluent phrases and sentences well thought out in my mind gave way to broken, stammering, pieces of... (painful to say) lousy english.

many friends will be surprised i didn't shock myself into a dead faint to hear myself spout broken english. it's a wonder i'm still alive. *wry grin*
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