有些东西在两年前就消散去了。父亲，明朗时是一盏指南方向的路灯，有时却是晴天里的暴雨。家里像住寄在地雷上，随时都可能暴发。在温馨的时候，我感觉袭气，像是温室里的花朵，好想逃脱，想独立。但我又懒散，想懒懒的吸取凉爽的空气。在屋顶下雨时，我感到迷茫，我感到无助和孤独。我虽胆小，却又孤僻和高傲，总是找不到能放下包袱的地方和人。我嫉妒，我失望，我自卑，我逃避。
我很容易满足，一件小事就让我开怀大笑，
我又有双重性格，我矛盾，我犹豫不决，我撒谎，我自责，我的心灵在惩罚我。
但，除了家里，我找不到能乘凉又让我轻松的土地。
我矛盾。未来。我真不知道应从事什么职业，我不知道我喜欢什么，我能投入什么。如果让我选择，八年前我希望我没有乘上飞往美国的直升飞机，我希望我还在姥姥家画我的画，带着我的特大号旧式眼镜，躺在床上幻想。
到达美国后，我常常觉的很不适应，我想哭，我想家。我想说中文，我想写中文字，我想上中国的大学。但时间是不能倒流的。
我现在适应了，不如说是麻木了。我对生活有时好麻木，好不知所措。
我走直线路，我反复做一样我厌烦的事。
我做着，可以一直呆呆的什么也不想。我觉的我的记忆和能力在退化，因为我习惯了简单而单一的做事方法。
也许我太夸张了，现实可能其实没有那么坏。
我想我好怕孤独，我要在人群中徘徊，我想如果我在人群里，也许我会不需要方向，只需跟着队伍慢慢的，蜗牛的步伐向前移就好。
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Friendship Tribute to a college freshman bewarned,it's kinda dramatic
There was a girl who lived in my neighborhood.
We did everything together during the 2 months of summer
Every week night and during the weekend, when we get home, we would call each other and walk, play tennis or sing karoakee at her house. We talked about boys, philosophy, Christianity and family. She introduced me to her favorite pop music and hip pop songs. She got me addicted to Beyonce's Baby boy, and Jesse McCartney's beautiful soul. We would walk along the neighborhood sidewalks everyday and just hang. We would exchange advice and philosophy about each other's lives.
She had such an easy-going personality and she was so curious and knowlegable about everything in life that her contagion changed me in a way that I probably didn't even realize later. She meant a lot more to me than she would think. She was also nerdy, like me. We would talk about the news, about Michael Jackson, about the entertainment, about Academics, about classes and about our shared morals. We would laugh about our laziness and our masculinity, the fact that we put on the first thing we see in the mornings and sometimes go out without brushing our hair. We cooked together on rare occasions and watched half of Borat.
I thought we had at least a week left.
But yesterday, Saturday, she told me that she was going to leave today, Sunday.
And today is Sunday. She is no longer in my neighborhood when I came back from church.
She is moving in to West Georgia, her name is Xu Tong. she is a freshman this year.
As I came home, I felt that something special stayed with me because of the time we spend together.
But my heart felt so hollow and empty as i stepped inside. Maybe it was the fact that we saw each other everyday during the summer.
I wish her the best time in college. She sounded so excited as I was helping her pack for college. I felt aged, suddenly. or maybe just sentimental.
She's kind of like the only person my age that I know in my neighborhood.
I guess I would still see her on the weekends, but i don't know if our friendship would be the same, and I wished that there were no partings in life sometimes. I think I am scared of her growing up, in a way.
IT's hard to having seen someone everyday for a very long time and then having to loose them.
We told each other nearly everything, and none of us had to fear of being judged by the other person.
I went to her house everyday to chill. She parents were just as easy going as she was. They showered us with watermelons, snacks and other things all the time. her dad would drive us to the tennis courts and join in the games.
She wanted to loose weight, and I loved everything about sports, so our workouts were conducted on a daily basis. She was also really humble. I felt so down to earth with her. It was as though that we were two old easily content lady just peacefully going through life together, amist a frenzy, calculating, material world.
I feel ridiculously lonely at this moment. Sometimes I think that loosing a really close friend is a lot worse than loosing a boyfriend, because friendships are so platonic. Friendships are not based on appearances, or lust, or desires, or anything that requires a lot of brain cells. It's hard to suddenly loose someone very close who lived 30 seconds away and who you see on a daily basis. Maybe i'm just plain sentimental at times. She was just a little kid like me deep down. But i didn't want to grow up, and she was excited about everything that represented new opportunities and challenges.
I hope that God bless her in her endeavors.
We did everything together during the 2 months of summer
Every week night and during the weekend, when we get home, we would call each other and walk, play tennis or sing karoakee at her house. We talked about boys, philosophy, Christianity and family. She introduced me to her favorite pop music and hip pop songs. She got me addicted to Beyonce's Baby boy, and Jesse McCartney's beautiful soul. We would walk along the neighborhood sidewalks everyday and just hang. We would exchange advice and philosophy about each other's lives.
She had such an easy-going personality and she was so curious and knowlegable about everything in life that her contagion changed me in a way that I probably didn't even realize later. She meant a lot more to me than she would think. She was also nerdy, like me. We would talk about the news, about Michael Jackson, about the entertainment, about Academics, about classes and about our shared morals. We would laugh about our laziness and our masculinity, the fact that we put on the first thing we see in the mornings and sometimes go out without brushing our hair. We cooked together on rare occasions and watched half of Borat.
I thought we had at least a week left.
But yesterday, Saturday, she told me that she was going to leave today, Sunday.
And today is Sunday. She is no longer in my neighborhood when I came back from church.
She is moving in to West Georgia, her name is Xu Tong. she is a freshman this year.
As I came home, I felt that something special stayed with me because of the time we spend together.
But my heart felt so hollow and empty as i stepped inside. Maybe it was the fact that we saw each other everyday during the summer.
I wish her the best time in college. She sounded so excited as I was helping her pack for college. I felt aged, suddenly. or maybe just sentimental.
She's kind of like the only person my age that I know in my neighborhood.
I guess I would still see her on the weekends, but i don't know if our friendship would be the same, and I wished that there were no partings in life sometimes. I think I am scared of her growing up, in a way.
IT's hard to having seen someone everyday for a very long time and then having to loose them.
We told each other nearly everything, and none of us had to fear of being judged by the other person.
I went to her house everyday to chill. She parents were just as easy going as she was. They showered us with watermelons, snacks and other things all the time. her dad would drive us to the tennis courts and join in the games.
She wanted to loose weight, and I loved everything about sports, so our workouts were conducted on a daily basis. She was also really humble. I felt so down to earth with her. It was as though that we were two old easily content lady just peacefully going through life together, amist a frenzy, calculating, material world.
I feel ridiculously lonely at this moment. Sometimes I think that loosing a really close friend is a lot worse than loosing a boyfriend, because friendships are so platonic. Friendships are not based on appearances, or lust, or desires, or anything that requires a lot of brain cells. It's hard to suddenly loose someone very close who lived 30 seconds away and who you see on a daily basis. Maybe i'm just plain sentimental at times. She was just a little kid like me deep down. But i didn't want to grow up, and she was excited about everything that represented new opportunities and challenges.
I hope that God bless her in her endeavors.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
MOms
Sometimes I wonder, what is it like to be a mom?
I must confess, I don't know.
What is it like to be a parent?
I can only imagine. I can imagine the hurt my mom and dad goes through as a foreigner, as an employee, as the parent of someone who doesn't brushes her hair in the morning, who comes out with stuff still on her eyes, who is very much unsure about her future, about her career, about her life, and about her self-identity, who wears shirts inside out sometimes, who plays with her hair childishly while talking to strangers.
It's not like that they've been the perfect parents, but I've definitely been less of a perfect child. It makes me wonder if I am changed in a good way recently. My church goings have definitely been more frequent and regular, I'm definitely more passionate about studying than last semester, but am I getting in any headway.
The pains of being a mom, I guess I will never know completely until the day I become one.
I must confess, I don't know.
What is it like to be a parent?
I can only imagine. I can imagine the hurt my mom and dad goes through as a foreigner, as an employee, as the parent of someone who doesn't brushes her hair in the morning, who comes out with stuff still on her eyes, who is very much unsure about her future, about her career, about her life, and about her self-identity, who wears shirts inside out sometimes, who plays with her hair childishly while talking to strangers.
It's not like that they've been the perfect parents, but I've definitely been less of a perfect child. It makes me wonder if I am changed in a good way recently. My church goings have definitely been more frequent and regular, I'm definitely more passionate about studying than last semester, but am I getting in any headway.
The pains of being a mom, I guess I will never know completely until the day I become one.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Windows
I use to stand on the balcony of our apartment and wait for my mom to come home. It was my grandmother's idea. She likes doing things with me, but I used to love doing anything with her. While she takes her bedtime, I used to lay next to her and just enjoys her amazing presence. I think, in that sense, my childhood was a little bit bedridden.
My mom usually comes home at around 5 o'clock. So my grandmother and I would sneak our necks outside of the window on the balcony and try to pinpoint the figures that strongly resembles my mummy. It's quite a work on rainy days. Someone once related the dangerous stories that talks about people getting struck by thunder when they walk in rainy days, especially walking close to the trees. I guess it has something to do with deflection. But I think it also give me scares. There was also the tale of A WELL. Apparently the well was not covered well and no body knew about it. So one day a guy walked right on the well and it probably shook, and next thing they knew, he was inside and down there in another world.
I think sometimes I was prone to irrational fears. For instance, I've heard about some instances of gas leakage in people's homes and from then on, I subconsciously check the kitchen occasionally to make sure that gas is turned off.
But my balcony was powerful. Around mid afternoon times and early mornings, there are salesman who yells out to the neighborhood as they sell tofu soups. My grandmother and I would ordered them from the balcony by calling out to them and then untangle our forceful set of strings, lower the strings all the way down and ask the tofu person to put the soup on top of our container, made sturdy by the strings.
sometimes, we get dry noodles that way.
My mom usually comes home at around 5 o'clock. So my grandmother and I would sneak our necks outside of the window on the balcony and try to pinpoint the figures that strongly resembles my mummy. It's quite a work on rainy days. Someone once related the dangerous stories that talks about people getting struck by thunder when they walk in rainy days, especially walking close to the trees. I guess it has something to do with deflection. But I think it also give me scares. There was also the tale of A WELL. Apparently the well was not covered well and no body knew about it. So one day a guy walked right on the well and it probably shook, and next thing they knew, he was inside and down there in another world.
I think sometimes I was prone to irrational fears. For instance, I've heard about some instances of gas leakage in people's homes and from then on, I subconsciously check the kitchen occasionally to make sure that gas is turned off.
But my balcony was powerful. Around mid afternoon times and early mornings, there are salesman who yells out to the neighborhood as they sell tofu soups. My grandmother and I would ordered them from the balcony by calling out to them and then untangle our forceful set of strings, lower the strings all the way down and ask the tofu person to put the soup on top of our container, made sturdy by the strings.
sometimes, we get dry noodles that way.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
I lived with my grandmother on the 4th floor in a university campus. My grandmother was an Chinese Writing teacher when I was born. She taught at my elementary school in the community. My mother was an environmentalist professor in College. My two aunts all work in the same University. My older aunt works as an clerk/ office manager in the geography department whereas my younger aunt worked from an secretary job to eventually the department director in the English Department. She has a lot of people skills. She isn't exactly fierce, but she has that type of leadership quality that makes you want to listen and follow.
I remember one time in elementary school that I absolutely refused to go to the community sona place with my mom and my aunt showed up. Her words were so expressive and powerful that I felt that I got dragged there emotionally.
But I digress, so Harbin
It is a bustling city with robust energy and livelihood. In my neighborhood alone, there are about 10 art studios and three barber places. There are also street vendors outside of the community gates. You just walk down the sidewalk, and along it, is a wide selection of commodities that are placed on plastic materials on the ground or on individual carts. These are sometimes clothes, dresses, belts, the common things you store in your closet to books from most diverse and interesting sources to just decoration things.
The word decoration could encompass a huge category all by itself. As an foreigner, you have to understand that Chinese people are very good at details. INcredibly good. They can carve and put together the most delicate things, they can afford to spend long periods of times on things that most Americans would not care much about-things like hand-sewn carpets, hand-made clothes, curtains.... I suppose that the value system is different. I think the Harbins are more imaginative and creative in their own sense, they are artsy and they are still materialistic in some ways. The city is a combination of dualisms that is becoming slowly converted to the Western styles.
I remember one time in elementary school that I absolutely refused to go to the community sona place with my mom and my aunt showed up. Her words were so expressive and powerful that I felt that I got dragged there emotionally.
But I digress, so Harbin
It is a bustling city with robust energy and livelihood. In my neighborhood alone, there are about 10 art studios and three barber places. There are also street vendors outside of the community gates. You just walk down the sidewalk, and along it, is a wide selection of commodities that are placed on plastic materials on the ground or on individual carts. These are sometimes clothes, dresses, belts, the common things you store in your closet to books from most diverse and interesting sources to just decoration things.
The word decoration could encompass a huge category all by itself. As an foreigner, you have to understand that Chinese people are very good at details. INcredibly good. They can carve and put together the most delicate things, they can afford to spend long periods of times on things that most Americans would not care much about-things like hand-sewn carpets, hand-made clothes, curtains.... I suppose that the value system is different. I think the Harbins are more imaginative and creative in their own sense, they are artsy and they are still materialistic in some ways. The city is a combination of dualisms that is becoming slowly converted to the Western styles.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
HarbinSea
Harbin does not have seas. It has an island. It's called The Sun island. I've only been there a couple times.
There are tons of people everywhere in Harbin: people squeezing on public buses, teenagers talking in lines at McDonald's, elders eagerly practicing Tai Chi Chuan in parks, women gossiping away about their sons and daughters, men sitting out on their lounges, chilling. You pass at least 100 people walking down one street. They make up the beautiful patterns on the Chinese landscape.
Some say scarcity equals value. The opposite is true here. Everyone of these people have precious memories, and stories that tracks back to generations. Each is remembered in his/her own right.
I remember visiting the clinic at 6 and listening to an old guy rant on about Chariman Mao. I can still vaguely hear his voice. He sounded very stubborn in the sense that he can stay in one topic for-ever. I remember my mom got into an argument with an salesperson. He got so furious that his anger made me want to run away, but my mom took it like a gentlemen. And my drawing teacher who wore colorful pants.
So you see, Harbin does not have seas.
But Harbin has stars that glistens in the dark, families that has the northen hospitality and people who brings vibrancy.
There are tons of people everywhere in Harbin: people squeezing on public buses, teenagers talking in lines at McDonald's, elders eagerly practicing Tai Chi Chuan in parks, women gossiping away about their sons and daughters, men sitting out on their lounges, chilling. You pass at least 100 people walking down one street. They make up the beautiful patterns on the Chinese landscape.
Some say scarcity equals value. The opposite is true here. Everyone of these people have precious memories, and stories that tracks back to generations. Each is remembered in his/her own right.
I remember visiting the clinic at 6 and listening to an old guy rant on about Chariman Mao. I can still vaguely hear his voice. He sounded very stubborn in the sense that he can stay in one topic for-ever. I remember my mom got into an argument with an salesperson. He got so furious that his anger made me want to run away, but my mom took it like a gentlemen. And my drawing teacher who wore colorful pants.
So you see, Harbin does not have seas.
But Harbin has stars that glistens in the dark, families that has the northen hospitality and people who brings vibrancy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
