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Saturday, December 1, 2007
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
The Finish Line
My legs are dragging themselves through the humid air. A warm breeze wraps around my body and the pressure of it makes me nauseous. Everything around me seems to be steaming, blurring the edges of the track and the trees. The obstacles loom ahead, like little giants standing in a straight line before me. As I slowly approach them, I attempt to jump over them like hurdles in a race. But then, I am face to face with the vicious monster and with a thump of its club I am beaten to the ground. Undeterred, I push myself up again and look wearily around me, searching for the finish line. Where is the finish line? There is no finish line.
The track bursts into flames and the giants encircle me as they multiply as far as the horizon where the sun is emanating sharp piercing rays. I take up my sword and I slash and hack at what I can with one eye open. This is an interminable war that will only end with death. Mine or Goliath's. This is not a race for the fittest. It has never been. Only then do I realize there is no finish line. This is war.
The track bursts into flames and the giants encircle me as they multiply as far as the horizon where the sun is emanating sharp piercing rays. I take up my sword and I slash and hack at what I can with one eye open. This is an interminable war that will only end with death. Mine or Goliath's. This is not a race for the fittest. It has never been. Only then do I realize there is no finish line. This is war.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Mom's birthday present
In my confused mind, I go over the list of potential birthday gifts for the third time and they all don't seem like the right thing. It has always been a pain trying to conjure up the perfect present for mom. The process of searching for "the gift" went like this.
I started off by listing off all the possible material things that my mom could ever want. Unfortunately, this list remained blank as ever. My mom never seems to want anything in particular. So after having had a futile search through the clothes, shoes, jewelry sections of the department, I ended up asking myself "So?" and the answer always comes, "Nah".
So what to do? After having had a great education in TAS learning to think outside of the box. I try to do that. I climb out of this oppressive material world and think, what could possibly be so divine that it would rock my mom's socks off when she receives her birthday present? Maybe I could make her a scrapbook of all the years since my brother and I were wearing diapers. That would be pretty cool. But I only have 5 days and I can only work on it when she's in the shower. Scratch that. Maybe I could burn a CD with all the songs that she likes. But I did that in lower school already; it would be a tad bit cliche. I know! I could give her 3 weeks of daily massaging but that's not fun stuff for me. So? Aghh.
Hopefully, it will come up in my dreams. It's in my brain somewhere. I just can't suck it out and force it to present itself visibly to my conscious senses. Dream a little dream for me, birthday gift.
I started off by listing off all the possible material things that my mom could ever want. Unfortunately, this list remained blank as ever. My mom never seems to want anything in particular. So after having had a futile search through the clothes, shoes, jewelry sections of the department, I ended up asking myself "So?" and the answer always comes, "Nah".
So what to do? After having had a great education in TAS learning to think outside of the box. I try to do that. I climb out of this oppressive material world and think, what could possibly be so divine that it would rock my mom's socks off when she receives her birthday present? Maybe I could make her a scrapbook of all the years since my brother and I were wearing diapers. That would be pretty cool. But I only have 5 days and I can only work on it when she's in the shower. Scratch that. Maybe I could burn a CD with all the songs that she likes. But I did that in lower school already; it would be a tad bit cliche. I know! I could give her 3 weeks of daily massaging but that's not fun stuff for me. So? Aghh.
Hopefully, it will come up in my dreams. It's in my brain somewhere. I just can't suck it out and force it to present itself visibly to my conscious senses. Dream a little dream for me, birthday gift.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Taxi driver
He dreamt big. Real big.
I would never have imagined the power lottery could have over our many desires and wishes but I was proven to have quite a limited view of this gambling world. As I hopped onto the taxi, the first thing the driver asked was, "Did you buy the lottery today? You know it's 600 million." Naturally, this was pretty much a rhetorical question for he started to tell the tale of his life. The life after he won the lottery, that is.
If I happen to have all those numbers on that lottery ticket of mine, the first thing I'm going to do is park this damn car in the middle of the road and let it get crushed, damnit. And I'm going to get myself a BMW. Of course, I'm not going to keep staying in Tien Mu. I'm going to move myself to where New York New York is and I'm going to do what I want to do and learn what I want to learn.
Yes, of course. You wouldn't want to waste all that money. It's best not to fling it all around right?
No, no. Well, of course, I'll probably take out about 100 or 200 million and put it into my bank account for retirement. But in the mean time, I'm going to use it on whatever I want. I'll probably buy some land back in my hometown. And I'm not going to put up with all that stupid education. I'm going to learn what I want. There's no use trying to memorize useless things right? You know, you never know when your fate changes. It could be today, in that little ticket. Just 50 NT and your whole life will be turned upside down for the better."
*Polite chuckle* Yes, yes. Of course.
With a repressed sigh of relief we (Mom, brother, and I) fortunately arrived at our destination . Mom quickly wished him good luck winning the lottery tonight, and silently hoped that he wouldn't. Poor guy. If he really managed to obtain that perfect sequence in his hot hands, he would probably be one of those who would waste all their money for a widget of luxurious and ecstatic life and before they knew it, plummet down into the lowest of lows of their lives, having lost all: money, job, and everything else.
Everyone has a different answer for the question "What would you do if you had a million dollars?" but it seems there are two categories that the answers fall into. The first one is similar to the taxi driver: Spend it all with glee and freedom. The second one is to save, save, save; whether it is to give to one's future kid's college money or simply because one's obsessively stingy. None of these categories are right or wrong in their own way (who knows what's right or wrong in life). The second category might seem more reasonable or as many would say "responsible" but one must consider how selfish it is to keep all that money to oneself and one's direct relatives. However, to question the person who carried out this action would be unreasonable. Thus, we must push further back and question the whole game of lottery. Is lottery really something that people desperately need? Will they give up all hope in life knowing they have no way of catching that 1 in a kajillion chance of winning? I believe not. There are people who actually live without lottery in their lives (it sounds like a drug now). Believe it or not, life can go on without those silly hopes that fate will go your way for once. If you think about it, only one person seizes the grand prize and all that money is granted to that sole being. After obtaining that enormous amount of money, the value of sharing slips out of his mind ever so quickly. Of course, there have been the select few who have not wasted their money for purposes of the self. But ultimately, I think we could do without the lottery. It wouldn't be a good idea to breed dreams such as those of the taxi driver's and let them multiply. The sight would be gruesome if I encountered a crushed taxi tomorrow, strewn in the middle of the road.
I would never have imagined the power lottery could have over our many desires and wishes but I was proven to have quite a limited view of this gambling world. As I hopped onto the taxi, the first thing the driver asked was, "Did you buy the lottery today? You know it's 600 million." Naturally, this was pretty much a rhetorical question for he started to tell the tale of his life. The life after he won the lottery, that is.
If I happen to have all those numbers on that lottery ticket of mine, the first thing I'm going to do is park this damn car in the middle of the road and let it get crushed, damnit. And I'm going to get myself a BMW. Of course, I'm not going to keep staying in Tien Mu. I'm going to move myself to where New York New York is and I'm going to do what I want to do and learn what I want to learn.
Yes, of course. You wouldn't want to waste all that money. It's best not to fling it all around right?
No, no. Well, of course, I'll probably take out about 100 or 200 million and put it into my bank account for retirement. But in the mean time, I'm going to use it on whatever I want. I'll probably buy some land back in my hometown. And I'm not going to put up with all that stupid education. I'm going to learn what I want. There's no use trying to memorize useless things right? You know, you never know when your fate changes. It could be today, in that little ticket. Just 50 NT and your whole life will be turned upside down for the better."
*Polite chuckle* Yes, yes. Of course.
With a repressed sigh of relief we (Mom, brother, and I) fortunately arrived at our destination . Mom quickly wished him good luck winning the lottery tonight, and silently hoped that he wouldn't. Poor guy. If he really managed to obtain that perfect sequence in his hot hands, he would probably be one of those who would waste all their money for a widget of luxurious and ecstatic life and before they knew it, plummet down into the lowest of lows of their lives, having lost all: money, job, and everything else.
Everyone has a different answer for the question "What would you do if you had a million dollars?" but it seems there are two categories that the answers fall into. The first one is similar to the taxi driver: Spend it all with glee and freedom. The second one is to save, save, save; whether it is to give to one's future kid's college money or simply because one's obsessively stingy. None of these categories are right or wrong in their own way (who knows what's right or wrong in life). The second category might seem more reasonable or as many would say "responsible" but one must consider how selfish it is to keep all that money to oneself and one's direct relatives. However, to question the person who carried out this action would be unreasonable. Thus, we must push further back and question the whole game of lottery. Is lottery really something that people desperately need? Will they give up all hope in life knowing they have no way of catching that 1 in a kajillion chance of winning? I believe not. There are people who actually live without lottery in their lives (it sounds like a drug now). Believe it or not, life can go on without those silly hopes that fate will go your way for once. If you think about it, only one person seizes the grand prize and all that money is granted to that sole being. After obtaining that enormous amount of money, the value of sharing slips out of his mind ever so quickly. Of course, there have been the select few who have not wasted their money for purposes of the self. But ultimately, I think we could do without the lottery. It wouldn't be a good idea to breed dreams such as those of the taxi driver's and let them multiply. The sight would be gruesome if I encountered a crushed taxi tomorrow, strewn in the middle of the road.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Perfect
My fingers are racing on the fingerboard. They can hardly keep up with the bow that cruelly pushes on. Almost at the finish line. Just this part. This tricky part. Here goes.
And right at that moment my fingers knot and tangle over each other resulting in yet another failure. The 100th.
It seems to me that practicing the violin is nothing less than the training required for cross-country. The amount of mental and physical energy to endure the torturous repetitions over and over again is more than one might think. One needs to have the perseverance of a perfectionist and the endurance of a marathon runner. After playing a passage for the 101th time, it takes its toll on both my body and mind. Thoughts of failure seep into my mind and I can't help but think myself hopeless. Eventually the other part of me whispers, "Come on, Jane, it's only this part. Just keep going." No, really.
Nearing the end of the day, my fingers are out of breath yearning for oxygen but I carry on. At one point, I get the passage just right. A rush of joy surges through my body. Perfect.
And right at that moment my fingers knot and tangle over each other resulting in yet another failure. The 100th.
It seems to me that practicing the violin is nothing less than the training required for cross-country. The amount of mental and physical energy to endure the torturous repetitions over and over again is more than one might think. One needs to have the perseverance of a perfectionist and the endurance of a marathon runner. After playing a passage for the 101th time, it takes its toll on both my body and mind. Thoughts of failure seep into my mind and I can't help but think myself hopeless. Eventually the other part of me whispers, "Come on, Jane, it's only this part. Just keep going." No, really.
Nearing the end of the day, my fingers are out of breath yearning for oxygen but I carry on. At one point, I get the passage just right. A rush of joy surges through my body. Perfect.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Summer
After many days of continuous rainfall, it is not hard to comprehend the suicidal rate in Cornell. Starting from the day of the graduation (fantastic omen), Taipei has been trampled by playful rain. The drops start falling and crescendos into a majestic thunder. And then it stops. And then the sky starts to drip again as if to say, "Hi guys, I'm back!". If this doesn't do justice to depression, then you must be phenomenal at controlling external forces.
I must admit, I do not have such heroic power to will off the gloominess that permeates the atmosphere. I succumb to this crushing force that unleashes my inner depression. Hidden away under the covers of my bed, the parameters around this patch of territory all seem abyssmal, dark, and hopeless. Every slashing I hear on the window I wince in pain and anguish. I am desperate to get out. And so I do, heading towards the refrigerator. With all this depression going on around me, it's only reasonable that I eat something.
Back in my little patch of territory (under my covers in my very cozy bed), I start to realize that the rain is not only making me sulky, it is ruining my cross-country career. That tummy of mine is growing. I need to get out and run. I need to escape from these bars that bind me so relentlessly. Just kidding. It wasn't like the rain literally locked me in. But just maybe, it did so somewhere in the deeper corners of my dark mind.
After hours of wallowing and dreaming up sun dances, I almost gave up all hope; the sun didn't love us as much as I thought it did. But the other day, as I woke up, there was my beloved friend guiltily peeking from the horizon. Hello there, stranger.
What drama the summer can bring, and a good kickoff at that. The rain was an appetizer only to enrich the joy summer would bring later on. So don't wallow and sulk. Let's just say that we should be glad I've been proven wrong. The sun does love us after all. This world is, ultimately, the best of all possible worlds.
I must admit, I do not have such heroic power to will off the gloominess that permeates the atmosphere. I succumb to this crushing force that unleashes my inner depression. Hidden away under the covers of my bed, the parameters around this patch of territory all seem abyssmal, dark, and hopeless. Every slashing I hear on the window I wince in pain and anguish. I am desperate to get out. And so I do, heading towards the refrigerator. With all this depression going on around me, it's only reasonable that I eat something.
Back in my little patch of territory (under my covers in my very cozy bed), I start to realize that the rain is not only making me sulky, it is ruining my cross-country career. That tummy of mine is growing. I need to get out and run. I need to escape from these bars that bind me so relentlessly. Just kidding. It wasn't like the rain literally locked me in. But just maybe, it did so somewhere in the deeper corners of my dark mind.
After hours of wallowing and dreaming up sun dances, I almost gave up all hope; the sun didn't love us as much as I thought it did. But the other day, as I woke up, there was my beloved friend guiltily peeking from the horizon. Hello there, stranger.
What drama the summer can bring, and a good kickoff at that. The rain was an appetizer only to enrich the joy summer would bring later on. So don't wallow and sulk. Let's just say that we should be glad I've been proven wrong. The sun does love us after all. This world is, ultimately, the best of all possible worlds.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Hermes
It's really getting to me this time. The increasing competition just makes me want to slap it in the face and say shut up, leave me alone. It's been all the small things added up together. Gradually. Slowly. Like it wants to creep up on me and surprise me. Great surprise.
The problem is that even though I feel burned out, up and down, I still have to keep on that game face or else people start to question. They think I'm depressed but I'm not. I'm frustrated, that's what. I'm at that tipping point where I just want to bake a thousand batches of cookies and fling them out of my window where they will land on the hot road and a car will run through them, crushing each and every one of them.
Give me a second here and maybe I'll let you experience how it feels to be judged; to be pounded and molded into someone I refuse to be.
Competition says, "Hi, just shut up and listen. This is your plan. Follow it."
I ignorantly reply, "Yay, okay! My life is set like a rock set in stone."
I wish I could smash the rock and the stone and punch competition in the face.
The polite and cheery :) letters that I keep receiving are disguised as messengers of rejection but I suppose they believe that I'm stupid enough to think their artificial phrases filled with plastic wishes of success would fool me. A few months ago it would have but I'm not stupid anymore because it's been a bit too much for me to have missed the point. Go on, reject me, I readily welcome you into my world because once you're in, you'll never come out. Slap me, I'll slap you back. But the sad thing is, you are indifferent. You go on and infect my soul like a virus, bursting each and every one of my cells.
Just die and shut up, please.
The problem is that even though I feel burned out, up and down, I still have to keep on that game face or else people start to question. They think I'm depressed but I'm not. I'm frustrated, that's what. I'm at that tipping point where I just want to bake a thousand batches of cookies and fling them out of my window where they will land on the hot road and a car will run through them, crushing each and every one of them.
Give me a second here and maybe I'll let you experience how it feels to be judged; to be pounded and molded into someone I refuse to be.
Competition says, "Hi, just shut up and listen. This is your plan. Follow it."
I ignorantly reply, "Yay, okay! My life is set like a rock set in stone."
I wish I could smash the rock and the stone and punch competition in the face.
The polite and cheery :) letters that I keep receiving are disguised as messengers of rejection but I suppose they believe that I'm stupid enough to think their artificial phrases filled with plastic wishes of success would fool me. A few months ago it would have but I'm not stupid anymore because it's been a bit too much for me to have missed the point. Go on, reject me, I readily welcome you into my world because once you're in, you'll never come out. Slap me, I'll slap you back. But the sad thing is, you are indifferent. You go on and infect my soul like a virus, bursting each and every one of my cells.
Just die and shut up, please.
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