America has lost its charm for me.

It really has.

I've always been a person who, admittedly, can obsess over random things over periods of time -- I'll be fixated upon this for a while, then be fixated upon that afterwards, and this is how it goes.

But as I was listening to The Used's "A Box Full of Sharp Objects," with Bert McCracken's howling vocals and the heavy guitar and drums in the background and a beautiful melody raging throughout the song, I suddenly realized that, had The Used been an English band, and they were screaming and frenzying the way in the same way, I would have been more charmed.

In my opinion, I'm thinking like that because I think like that with BMTH and BFMV. They're both UK bands. And even though I consider BMTH a tad too pissed-sounding for me, I still do listen to them. (And FYI, it's not because of how the lead singer looks. I'm serious.)

And one of the reasons I listen to them, especially BMTH, is because they're not American. If they were American, I possibly would not have bothered giving them my time to listen to them scream and howl.

Don't get me wrong. I don't have anything against America. I'm not at all Caucasian myself, so this is not a case of racism. It's just that, for me, something English, something from the United Kingdom -- these things just have more poise, more elegance. English things remind me of quaintness. English things conjure up an image of gentlemen and ladies sipping tea in intricately tailored clothes, inside a sepia photo. English things make of think of grey skies, wet after-rain streets. English things sound in my head a proud, elegant, strong way of speaking, while the American accent just sounds cheap, vulgar, edge-less, fat: it's like comparing a gentlewoman to a soccer mom. English things are tantamount, for me, to all things vintage.

I know the way I speak of those things are making them seem fantastic. In truth, I know they're not that perfect, but human minds have a way of perfecting things in their mind. But I digress.

I have been to the UK. So it's not like I'm imagining all that up in my head baselessly.

____

Going back to the title: American has lost its charm for me. Why? and how? you may ask. Well, as for why -- that I cannot answer. My change of heart, to me, is quite unfathomable just as it is to you. As for how -- that I can answer.

I don't know why, but now, I don't think about immigrating to America anymore. I think about moving to the UK. Or even Canada. But America - no longer. That wish has slipped from me like a ring of cigarette smoke, fading slowly but surely. I used to obsess over living in America, even though I've never been there. I just had a very strong wish to live there in the future. I've always had that wish in my head. It stuck there for quite a long period of time. And the notion of it going away -- that never even occurred to me.

But now it did. I don't want to live there anymore. I don't want to go to school there. I don't give a shit about the Californian sunshine and sand, or Harvard in the winter wonderland up north, or anything anywhere else.

Instead, I found myself fantasizing about things like the Tower Bridge. Or record shops, and books shops, like Waterstones. Or London's narrow streets. Or strange, exotic proper nouns, ending with -ham or -cester or -minster or -shire. Or conversing with people who speak with so graceful an accent that it pains me to think of my own, lacking in aesthetic charm and beauty. The

American accent: sounds of a language twisted into a lowly effigy of the original.



I suppose, the conclusion I got from my reasoning is just that I favor English things over American things. Perhaps this is a strange notion, especially for me myself, who speaks English with an American accent and goes to an American International School. Huh.

Labels: america, charm, england, uk, united states, usa

My EHS1C assignment.
My point of view: Romeo's.

1. Feast + Encountering Juliet
Here I am now, accompanied here by my dear friends Benvolio and Mercutio, heading to the feast held by Lord Capulet, head of my family's enemy. All I was concerned was whether Rosaline, the love of my life, would be here or not. Will she be there? Will she?

As I stepped inside the hall filled with music, laughter and dancing Capulets, I caught sight of a ravishing girl in a ravishing dress, dancing her heart out. I must say I was very entraced by the mere sight of her. I found myself unable to look away. My heart swelled; a smile found its way to my lips. Goodbye Rosaline. Hello, nameless, beautiful angel.

I wouldn't have minded staying there all through the night just to watch her dance, but no—I was spotted by Tybalt, a Capulet. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be fond of the sight of me. He unsheathed his sword and was ready to attack, but luckily, Capulet grabbed him before he did anything rash. They retreated into a side room quietly. When they reappeared, Tybalt was calm, but did not refrain from glaring at me hatefully from across the hall.

As the song ended and that beautiful girl disappeared behind a curtain, I sneaked up behind her. "She has such an exquisite appearance," I thought. "There is nothing more beautiful in this world that her."

She seemed surprised that I was there. I spoke to her and she was approachable and responsive, much to my delight. She seemed to have taken a shine to me as I did to her. Soon, I found myself in her arms, kissing her. How strange it was that we did not even know each other's names.
However, moments later I learned from her nurse that this attractive girl was, in fact, the daughter of Lord Capulet, Juliet. I was torn. I shouldn't be associating myself with the daughter of my family's enemy, even though I would love to do so. Let those adults feud. Love was the only thing more powerful than authoritative power, I was sure. I could only hope that Juliet would not abandon me once she realizes I'm a Montague, and her enemy.

2. Balcony Scene
I left the feast with Mercutio and Benvolio, my mind still on Juliet. I realized I was already in love with her even though I had just met her an hour ago. I decided to meet her again tonight. I didn't think I would be able to stand not seeing her for such long hours until tomorrow morning.

I decided to jump into the Capulet's yard that was behind the orchard wall. Benvolio didn't like it, but who cared?

As I entered the Capulet's yard, filled with superfluous plantlife, I drew closer to a light being emitted from a window near a balcony on the second floor. I scrutinized it, then realized Juliet—oh, my lady, my love—was sitting atop the balcony, and she was speaking my name. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

I made myself known. She was surprised, but I could tell that she was absolutely delighted at my unexpected, sudden presence. She warned me to leave, because if her kinsmen see me, I'll surely be slain. But I was confident that they wouldn't. I simply didn't care about them.

We had a merry time chatting. Ah, what delightful times.

When it came time to exchange vows of love, we did so in a pleasant way. We then agreed to meet again the following day and get married. I didn't want to leave, but Juliet urged me to. Oh, she was fairer than the moon herself!

3. Marriage
Friar Lawrence had promised me that he would wed the two of us in secret. What a man he was. He was a great friend of mine, too.

Juliet and I met in Friar Lawrence's cell. As he made us husband and wife, it was absolute ecstasy, complete euphoria, that I felt, because I knew that somehow, I would be able to spend my entire life with the girl I loved. Family feuds—they were trivial; love was the most important thing—afterall, regardless of what others and our feuding families might think, it made the world go round, didn't it?

4. Exile
Even though I was simply in a fit a rage revenging for my dear friend, Mercutio, when I had slain Tybalt, I still wished I hadn't done so. Afterall, he was family. But still, Tybalt was wrong in slaying Mercutio. I shall pray for them both before I leave for exile and maybe pacify their angry souls in Heaven.

I supposed, at the end of the day, I still wished I hadn't done anything, because now I will have to part with Verona, part with my family, and, most importantly, part with my dear Juliet. I just hope this wouldn't be forever. It pained me a great deal to leave my love. Oh, how could I live without Juliet?

5. Death
I couldn't believe it—how could Juliet have killed herself? And why would Juliet have killed herself?Perhaps she was too devastated over my untimely departure, but we had made promises to each other that somewhere, somehow, we would meet again, ASAP. How could Juliet had been so reckless and thoughtless? Didn't it cross her mind that I would be sorrowful and downhearted?

The only way, I supposed, to meet again with my precious Juliet, was to kill myself too. Then, we would be able to meet each other on the holy clouds of Heaven. The quickest way to die was probably by poisoning myself. Alright, then—I'll purchase one of the deadliest poison from the Apothecary, so that I would have a quick death. I was sure he would understand my reason to buy it. Why wouldn't he?

I rode on horseback to get back to Verona. It was nighttime. I headed down to the Capulet's family crypt. The air was musty; I hated it. But that didn't matter anymore, because I was about to be rejoined with my love.

I found her close to Tybalt. Death had taken no toll on her beauty at all. She remained lovely like she always had. I looked down on the bottle of poison purchased from the Apothecary, swishing vigorously like dark waters as I had just sat down beside Juliet. I was not scared, for I knew that I would soon be with Juliet once again. It would be pure bliss.

Without hesitation, I raised the bottle to my lips and gulped down every single drop of dark poison in the flask.

Slowly, my world closed in on me. Things started to blacken, as if a black fog had obscured my vision. My head swayed in circles. I crashed to the cold stone ground with a dull thud. Death took my life, to which I am only too grateful, for what is life without Juliet . . .

Labels: juliet, romeo, shakespeare

:)

I'm Sarah.
Reading, writing, & music are just a few of my favorite things.

Later.

January 2009, October 2009,

infravermelho