Stardust

Looked forward to watching the movie all year last year
Finally watched it today
Good movie, very very entertaining… Neil Gaiman is a marvelous writer…
He’s got quite a interesting sense of obsurd humor
(suites me perfectly)
很有天外飛來一筆的感覺

yet, it also left me a bit… hollow

And made me realize, what’s missing
Yeah, life is been going great for awhile now
Very great
In fact, so great that it doesn’t feel… so great

I’ve always believed that everything is relative
Nothing is… absolute
You only know happiness if you understand sadness
And vice versa

What’s missing?
I’m happy, but I am not really happy
I’m trying to move forward, but it feels so empty

Back when I was with Ivo, I was depressed, YES…
But when I was happy, I was truly happy
When I moved forward, there seemed to be an honest purpose.

Sure, I really do think studying Environmental Law is purposeful.
I do think continuing my obsession towards English literature
(specifically Middle English and Medieval Culture) is purposeful.
I even think my new found interest in finding prove for my own theories
is purposeful.
But there’s still something MISSING!

Love is missing…
My heart is with me, and that just didn’t feel right…
Because, it should belong to someone else… but who?
But where? But when?
Sometimes I feel that it is soon, that I am so close to finding him…
Then I wonder at other times if I would meet him at all!
Good thing is, it’s always more “close to find him” than “none at all”…

Yvaine was a star… and she glowed because of love

Isn’t that the way for any of us?

I somehow seem to miss that glow…

Someone to love…

Someone to beloved from…

The beginning of a writer wannabe’s story

Okay, after allowing my mind to drift for so long, I figured, damn… I’m not a writer. I might have had the potential to be one, but I guess I’m more like a, mm… writer wannabe? You know, the people who’s got a whole universe stuck in their head, but lack the motivation/power to actually make those stories “real”. @@ So, I figured, the heck, I’m gonna be a writer wannabe forever, so… mind as well as just go on with this “wannabe story”. Actually, there’s tons of things I’ve wanted to be, all of them involved being famous while living as a hermit. Yeah, talk about some fantasy stories. What beats that?So, what does a writer wannabe do with her time?1. Was walking outside in the construction site today after mailing my transcripts for law school application. Was thinking rather negatively about how the world will end and how I feel absolutely bored with myself. I mean, heck, I should be famous by now, right? Nah… but at least I should be working or doing something more constructive than… nothing. Anyways, so there’s this pile(s) of red dirt. Normally, when you see red dirt, what do you see? Well, you see red dirt, and it remains red dirt until otherwise converted by the construction workers. So, here’s the writer wannabe, walking in the red dirt. What does that make the red dirt? Still just red dirt, if you ask me. Yet, with the depressing desire to have more experience in life, I attempted to see something out of the red dirt. It would be too sad for these dirt if they remains just the plain red dirt they’ve always been. How much more interesting would they be if they instead become the red dirt of Mars, or some desert. So, the writer wannabe attempted to experience a “desert” while walking on the construction site next to her home. Mm… the sun’s getting high. It’s getting warm. I’m feeling dry. Argh! I’m helluciating! Is that a house that I see afar?! Argh! Am I being followed? Oh no! It’s the aliens here to take me away! AHHH… ok. It was just red dirt, and that experience didn’t get me too far.2. Came home, turned on the TV. Yes, I know, it’s something definitely to stop being addicted to. Actually, I’m not technically addicted to TV, I’m addicted to movies. That, and I’m addicted to doing nothing, and that means I’m Internet hungry as well. Prolly also contributed to me want for the chink chinks. After all, there’s nothing lacking more substance than both the world wide web and the chink chinks that comes with it. Heck, you can make money out of nothing these days! Hell, sometimes I wonder if that’s real money at all, I mean, it’s just paper (that had the honor of being endowed with heads of dead people and a few hundred super tech installations). Maybe we’re all just chasing around nothing. I mean, if the end of the world (note above, a writer wannabe’s natural fantasy) is to come, hell, I think some basic survival skills would kill better than a bank account of a few million! Maybe this is just sour grape on me. So, anyways, I get caught up in the fantasy, as usual, since I’m human and part of this society (no offense, but we are a stupid bunch, aren’t we?), and there I go, attempting to write the wrongs in my head. Heck, who worries/cares/thinks/meditates/wonders about what goes on in a movie?! It’s a damn movie! Just watch it, get entertained and… to the hell with it! Well, tell my brains that, it’s just not working. You see, a writer can create stories, right? A writer can use their imagination to take you beyond your imagination! Well, I’m a writer wannabe, so, I’m trying that. Only it seems the only imagination I’m taking beyond is my own.3. Up to my room, a little haven, cleaned and orderly. And I start worrying, no particular reason, cuz, well, in general, I have a great life. My parents as nice (well, depends on perspective) to me, my sister’s wackoed like me (partners in crime), my room is clean, I get fed quite regularly, my tutoring students are all really sweet, my friends are also very sweet (some, there are times when we can get into rather a cat-fight), I can wake up when I feel like in the morning, go to bed when I feel like at night, and my imaginary friend keeps me much entertained. Okay, life is good, probably too good, so, what’s to worry? There’s nothing in my life that cannot be solved! If I hate living with my parents, heck, then move out. If I want to go to Law School, then finish the goddamned applications. If I wanna move to Taipei, just find a job and a place to live. (And at this point, I can hear a friend’s words ringing: … don’t care about the whatifs.) Yeah… life is good. But, I worry. Why? Have you ever heard of a writer who does not worry? Or a writer who is not depressed? I mean, heck, how can a person be a writer without being eccentric, odd, a bit sick in the mind, dillusional (maybe), depressed, cynical, or something like that? You gotta be extreme to touch people, girl! Yeah, well… only the writer wannabes always forget, you actually have to first be intelligent, then get depressed before you can produce anything worth a second look. Being just depressed, that… only make you a depressee, not a writer.  

End of one type of life, start of another

Things start fresh today. Long has it been since my life dragged with many of its inconvenient realities, interferences from unnecessary sources, and indecisive due to personal conflicts. Too long has that period been, and now, that period should much be changed.You see, I believe in people. I believe in the power within people. I believe in that little bubble waiting to burst inside every one of our souls. So, I believe in myself. If you take the key to my heart and open my chest, you’d find that the bubble is simply getting to big, either it needs to burst, or we have to let some air out. Every young person, in some period of their lives, is allowed some stupidity, some ignorance, some side-tracking. Yet, these side-tracking can only leave the main trail so far before the mothership calls. Ding ding goes the bells. The alarms are not hard to miss, but it is the crawling back that tempers with a person’s will power. One thing is to fall, another is to climb.For my life, I’ve sidetracked too far, too long, and it’s time to return to the mothership, to accept my core, my inner self, to bust that bubble and let the air out. It’s time to end one type of life and start another, and this time, make sure this other life is more or less the right life. Right in the sense that it fits with what I want of myself in life.Step one? Clean out the closet, throw away the skeletons, paint a new wall, and a new self. Some things are better left in the past. 

Aeon Flux

I finally managed to watch this movie in the morning, after many many many obstacles. I guess, there’s somewhat always a path directed in life for us to follow. Whatever happened was entirely unbelieveably insane, but then, well, I guess what has to be done has to be done. After having all paths blocked, with only one path left to choose from, I managed to watch Aeon Flux, with great joy, good. This sort of reminds me the concepts of psychohistory, that in history, the way events/things change will be to such a degree that we are guided on a pre-destined path. What we view as choice, is not actually a true free will choice, but rather a choice of situation. This is not to say that there’s necessarily a superstitious OTHER out there controlling our lives, but more like that there is a certain course of nature, a certain course of life, a certain course of social development that creates an intricate web of conduct for every large or small actions we may take in life. There is not necessarily good or bad, right or wrong, but just action following action. As for what the reasons behind these actions are, perhaps we can say simply that we are creatures seeking for survival in a world that wasn’t build to easily allow that.Aeon Flux was a movie set in the future, where technology collides with nature, with technology became a different kind of nature. The technology of their time are organic, growing weapons from plants, sending messages through electric currents between brains. All took place in a city closed off from the outside world, the last city of humanity, surviving a catastrophic virus that wiped out 99 % of humanity. The outside world had grown wild, nature had found its way back to balance. What is left of the 1 % of humanity were allowed the chance of survival after 400 years of struggle. The nature tested humanity’s strength by eliminating our chances of fertility, taking away our rights to life, but humanity carried on through methods of cloning, seeking to survive in a world that doesn’t seem to need it anymore. 400 years of evolution, nature decided to give humans one more chance, nature healed humans of its sterility, and gave back our birth rights.Not caring so much about the sci-fi aspect depicted in the movie (which was really fascinating, btw, and should be viewed simply for the way it was designed), the plot-line itself was a fascinating thing of its own. Should it have been expanded more, perhaps it would have been far more fascinating, the story too complex to fit in a 2 hour movie screening. It’s not the question of freedom, the question of love, the question of future, the question of memories, the question of death that really intrigued me, but more rather, the question of what exactly controls our lives. In the end, it seems like neither religion, government, science, whatever, really controls our lives, rather, it is nature that decided to keep or take humanity.Look at Bangladesh. Whatever was meant to begin, whatever nature’s strike back, it is not just happening before our eyes, it is happening faster and faster, and all the while nature hopes to give us a second chance, holding back a little, if ever so little, we might have a chance to live on. Where will humanity go from here? 

Back to Basics

Done a lot of thinking under the outer layers of my brains without my participation. Ended up doing always the things I tell myself not to do, and decided, that the very reason I keep doing them is because I keep trying to avoid them. I keep making the same mistakes because all I think about are the mistakes. Back to the basics…I had always believed that if you already know something will happen, you don’t worry about it, you don’t think about it, it will come as it will come, life will come as it will come. That’s the way I lived the first 18 years of my life. Things really went a bit tipsy turvy after that, I stopped believing in too many things, in myself, in my present and future. I dwelled on the seeming beautiful past, looking at the past errors, hoping to correct them, and forgot that the more important is the present, the beautiful present, creating beautiful future.Whatever in life, may it be LSAT, may it be law school application, may it be public projects, private projects, whatever which I choose to do, why should I worry about it? It is bound to happen, as it should, if not, then as not. I will do what I will do, accomplish what is meant for me to accomplish. Why all the fear and suspicion now? There’s none the need of that. I will do well because, well, I believe in myself and I believe things will always turn out nicely for me and those around me, so… I guess, in this case, no need to worry about it, just have fun, enjoy the exam, the application, whatever comes.Come what may. Meanwhile, I just wanna enjoy every moment of it.

Wrong philosophy

What’s so off?

It simply just kicked in this morning what was so off about my life. (Yes, this is another post discussing the endlessly confusing/messed up/chaotic/off balance/disharmonized life of moi)

Why is it that I always get the feeling that things are… off, that something’s not right, that… something is simply missing. It’s like as if I was on a scale and it’s entirely lumped towards one side, with me flying across the sky.

Wrong philosophy, wrong life. Every one of us, as we grow, as we become independent (not necessariy financially, I discovered, but in the person), the separation pain isn’t the only trouble, the question of having our own “right” philosophy about life, might be even more. Well, it’s not a question of whether this philosophy is right or wrong (damn, I sure definitely do more writing these days… @@), but more like whether this philosophy is the right one for me! Well, is it?

I’ve adopted a lot of my parents philosophies during my years as we lived intimately together (Well, pseudo-intimate). Over the past few years, they have been increasingly more… mm… demanding that I become… well… THEM.

(Little side note here. I think it’s splendid to be able to see the mistakes/faults of our parents, and I think I would be thrilled for my children if they do. Cuz, that means, at least, they’re gonna try not making the same mistakes, right? We cannot live life without making mistakes, but, we can hope others do not make the same. As well, I wouldn’t force them not to make mistakes or not to make what I think is mistakes because, well, we’re different individuals, they have their needs to stumble and fall ((I’m a cruel future parent, aren’t I?)). )

But their philosophies on life are NOT my philosophies on life. Their ways of living are NOT my ways of living. What they see/thinks of the world are NOT what I see and think of the world. Take for example… simply… MONEY. I don’t doubt its importance, really… And I don’t doubt to be able to make money if I want… but it seems like money is the only concern in my parents’ world. Of course, we could say that it’s cuz they don’t have money (we don’t have money, for the matter), however, worrying about not having something and making that worry the entire of your life doesn’t seem to make any sense to me. Ok, it’s a stated fact, then… well, see a problem, find a solution, the rest of the time? Enjoy life a little. My philosophy toward money had always been more like, “Money is the by-product” of having fun. I had this odd illusion that if you are doing something FUN and something EXCITING or something FASCINATING, you will eventually be able to make a living out of it. Take for example, all the great GEEKS in the world. I’ll bet you a taro bubble tea (something my pen pal came up with as a… mm… surprise prize?) that the Google guys started GOOGLE cuz it was FUN, not cuz it was a money machine (but we will never truly know either… )… Steve Chen did not start YouTube cuz he though, “Oh! Google will buy us out and make me super rich!”, but more because he thought, “Need some place to share this hilarious video with my friends.” Hemingway did not start writing thinking, “Damn, I gotta make super rich with my writing.” He prolly started writing as, “Can’t live without spitting these damned words (not that he would use this language).”

So there, you have it. Wrong philosophy, I end up chasing after something invisible that, well, honestly doesn’t make my life actually better. I mean, what’s the point of having a life if you can’t actually LIVE and ENJOY it?! Sure, money is important, but it’s also a set fact that once you know, you can just kinda live with it in the back of your head while you enjoy the various splendours of life.

I would seriously like to keep writing, keep painting, keep designing my oddities without thinking about how much they would earn me (some weird practice in the house is to wonder at how much I can earn with just about everything I do =.=). I mean, ever since there’s the talk that I can hopefully earn from my writings, I haven’t been really able to WRITE! That’s pathetically SAD cuz if I can’t WRITE, I feel like a corked up soda bottle on the edge of explosion with no exact remedy to fix the before or after of a busted bottle.

Good marves! What a revealation in the morning. And in this, I would say, special thx to a friend in Uni, someone I’ve lost contact (almost) with because of my stupid philosophies… but I think now, I honestly see what’s keeping you happy.