Student's Name:孙晓骏 nstructor's Name:何艳 Course Name:英美名诗赏析 Date:13 May 2012 Theme for English class The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you-- Then,it will be true. I wonder if it's that simple? I am twenty-one,Chinese,born in shanghai I live up to my parents'expectations, Well-educated,versatile and well behaved. Bright future as depicted except for living real. I'm just so depressed and eager to get out of this slump, Been feeling lost so I told myself to get over this hump, But something is needed to pull me out of this dump. I miss the days using the fists not mouth, I miss the days waking up without knowing where I'm. I miss the days rushing to another city without planning. I don't know how or why or when I ended up the position I were in. Maybe a book,a word,a conversation or just making a choice, Maybe I'm not wearing masks cause My choice makes me who I am. Picking up the pen,staring at the ceiling, Wasting the day away,I can hear a voice in my head But whose voices it is which is spinning,laughing,dancing inside my mind? Depression tastes well when savored in loneliness. Success is counted sweetest through tough process. So addicted to the adversity and impasses Worshipping overwhelming power and desperate for perfectionism This is my thoughts,weird but true if you could know. This is my page for English class
Student’s Name: 孙晓骏 Instructor’s Name: 何艳 Course Name: 英美名诗赏析 Date: 13 May 2012 Theme for English class The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you-- Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple? I am twenty-one, Chinese, born in shanghai. I live up to my parents’ expectations, Well-educated, versatile and well behaved, Bright future as depicted except for living real. I’m just so depressed and eager to get out of this slump, Been feeling lost so I told myself to get over this hump, But something is needed to pull me out of this dump. I miss the days using the fists not mouth, I miss the days waking up without knowing where I’m. I miss the days rushing to another city without planning. I don’t know how or why or when I ended up the position I were in. Maybe a book, a word, a conversation or just making a choice, Maybe I’m not wearing masks cause My choice makes me who I am. Picking up the pen, staring at the ceiling, Wasting the day away, I can hear a voice in my head. But whose voices it is which is spinning, laughing, dancing inside my mind? Depression tastes well when savored in loneliness. Success is counted sweetest through tough process. So addicted to the adversity and impasses Worshipping overwhelming power and desperate for perfectionism This is my thoughts, weird but true if you could know. This is my page for English class