April 29, 2007

van Dousan Garden

Posted in Uncategorized at 2:48 pm by changisme

I went to the van Dousan Garden today with mom. There are not as many flowers there this year as before. I think it’s probably the weird weather patterns (if there was a pattern at all!) that killed many plants. The Magnolia did flourish I think, though it’s past their time now, still, the large paddles webbed the ground reminding everyone of the beauty they once possessed. Because the flowers are not as prominent, the greens have stepped forward from the backstage. They seem to be so much quieter and steadfast, reminding me of a fatherly love. It’s interesting how there are really really tall fir trees, and there are some really small ones too. They seem to have such big contrast. I know I can’t discribe it well enough to actually convey the extraordinarity, but it’s true! When I look at some trees like a tall Douglas fir that are all over the place on hiking trails near Vancouver, I think of something in a different scale as us. Their spacial, as well as time span are counted in hundred folds compare to us. However, when you see the comparison of those big creatures and the young ones, you feel… there’s actually a process, and there is a connection between me and the grandness.

The only kinds of flowers that were blooming line fires were the rhododentrons. They look like clouds from afar. I think they probably don’t last all that long because you can see hardly any green leaves exposing! Still, they are so flamboyant in a good way. I think mom likes flowers like that. I’m not that keen, but I can’t help smiling seeing those colours overflowing.

There were these trees that had leaves that really looked like maple, but somehow the tree itself didn’t really. I don’t really know what they were, maybe they are just maple of some special kind?

In the garden there were all these chinese parents who are trying to pose their small children amongst the burning blooms. iIt reminded me of when I was young how much my mom loved to take pictures. It was quite annoying because you are asked to do these things in front of practically every bush and you are supposed to smile and I didn’t know how to smile without having something happy happening first. So in almost all my early pictures, I simply opened my mouth big.  Now that I’m older, and I can sort of see why it’s so fun for the parents. They todlers are very cute indeed! Often times, the peddles are as big as their cheeks, both of which lights up the heavens.

April 27, 2007

conversations and definitions

Posted in Uncategorized at 6:52 pm by changisme

Life after exam is as sweet as honeyed apple pear. I totally haven’t been bored, and feel so good, (other than some minor physical discomfort :p ).

It’s weird how conversations with my parents always goes into guy-girl relationships. I SWARE I didn’t lead the conversations there, I totally have no intention of having my life immersed in guy-problems then I already are. Nevertheless, they seem to be very interested in the topic. At the same time though, we never talk about it at a personal level, they never use their experience, and nor I mine. When I talk to my mom, she just has this vast reservoir of stories on other people, whereas my dad talks about it in such a helicopter way, meaning, he hovers above with all the "conclusions" almost. It’s almost philosophical.

It’s so very hard to know what they actually think about relationships themselves, because my mom seems to laugh at everyone and everyone seems to be silly and make mistakes, but deep down I don’t think she actually disapprove of them. She’s a free soul, and believes that it’s a good arrangement if both sides are happy and have a harmonic atmosphere in the home. Still, it’s all the better if the guy and the girl are beautiful and smart and rich and the children are beautiful and smart and lovable. These accessories derived all the gossips and tsk-tsk talk on her part. It feels to me that she really doesn’t mind, but just wants something to talk about. Plus, all her friends talk about other people like this, she might as well do.

My dad was very funny. He justifies for those at whom we snorted. He said, oh you know.. those people are not so dumb that they can’t catch on, they are just insistant, and they refuse to believe that they have such bad luck! Yuda yuda yuda.

In a wya, I don’t feel very affected by these kind of talks, because they are so inpersonal. It’s all talks I can duplicate, it’s not about them, ti’s not about what they really think really. Their judgements do leak out sometimes, but not often, and certainly not direct. Heck, why do I bother wanting to know what they think anyway? It’s not like I want their advice on anything! Even if I do, these abstract disection of the "truths for life" with a sterilized scalpel might as well be enough.

* * *

On another note, after I sort of concluded that Spin is so masculine, the novel seems to be defending itself, and now I feel it’s not that extreme as I made it. It’s weird. It’s probably a psychological effect on my part, that when I make a conclusion that something is red, then it becomes almost 100% red, due to the act of defining. This is interesting, because ina way when we try to define things, it’s not really seek the fact about the thing really, it’s about containing this "thing" in our mind or head. it somehow changes a concept, and make it controlable. In that note, I wonder if we should define so many things.

For sure, we should probably define ideas we make up. We usually made them up for the sake of their definition usually. Like in a mathematical context, we structure our definitions so that we wouln’t need to use very very long sentenses.

Other things around us, like people, God, other creatures, maybe we shouldn’t define them so much. What’s really the use? biologists probalby would suggest otherwise, but they can’t even define a species very well… convincingly I mean…  Is it essential to have clear linguistics to perceive and learn? is that the reason we define? Or is it just a tool for us to contain and control?

April 25, 2007

Masculine writing… if there is such a thing.

Posted in Uncategorized at 2:01 pm by changisme

On a brief note, I’m done, and I’m quite happy. It’s been a dull and gradual happiness, as I’ve been relaxing for the pass several days, and now… that I’m finished, I actually need to stop relaxing, as I have to start doing taxes, deal with some administration issues and maybe look at something on PDE’s for work. I’m actually wondering if I should still go back to Hugh Boyd… since the teachers that I often visit are largely gone. I might go anyway…
 
***
 
It’s weird how I like to read Spin, cuz it’s fun, but it’s actually not really getting into my bones and move me all that much. I can’t quite tell why. The language is beautiful and the emotions are in there, but somehow… I wonder if it’s just science fiction in general, or it’s a man’s writing.
 
It reminds me of many many mooons ago when I discussed with my mother about how male and female writers write differently. She believes in that strongly and said you can just TELL as soon as you read it. I was in somewhat objection, with little ground, I thought different people write in such different tones anyway, plus a lot of times male writers take on female persona and vice versa. At that time, I really hadn’t read much female literature, the only girl who I’ve read quite bit was San Mao from Taiwan and resided in Africa with her (as some people believe) made-up husband. I liked her writing very much, but she’s a bit of a…. weirdo to start with, put aside that made-up husband, which I really can’t think he never existed, because he’s so real in her writing, also she’s come back and pursued some other relationships with weird people and ended up committing suicide. I mean.. one can hardly assert any kind of stereotypical framework onto a writer such as her.
 
Science fiction… I don’t know much about it. I really feel things like the Spin… just seem very masculine. I really don’t know why I believe so. In a way, it has very strong emotional undertone. I even understand the geeky physics interpolations. Still… I think it’s what my  mom would call a man’s writing.
 
By no means, do I think I like women’s writing better than that of the men. In fact, I think I get less affected by the work whenever I can sense such a strong gender prominence, even if the theme of the story has nothing implying biases or discrimination. It’s weird isn’t it???

April 24, 2007

done with Analysis

Posted in Uncategorized at 7:59 pm by changisme

It’s funny how my happiness after getting a grade that I actually can say.. "phew" is kind of dull. I think I got more estatic after getting job. In any case, 321 is behind me and I’m satisfied with my grade. This Analysis stuff is almost like a child I’ve been kindling through the whole school year. I’ve developped this love hate relationship to it because of the amount of time I spent trying. I think the amount of effort I’ve put into it has really robbed me opportunities to do other maybe equally fun things. On the other hand, this same amount of effort also lent  me more insight towards the cool nature of the subject. I still don’t really appreciate the algebraic mess that bundles together with the understanding, though. I think some people do like the "cleverness" of those tricks and so on… I hope one day I can harbour the same attitude. At the mean time, I can only like part of it, I guess that’s better than nothing.

Maybe I’m making it sounds all so grand, but really… man was quite some hard work, and I don’t think I want to devote/sacrifice another relaxing term by taking analysis again. LOL I hope I can use it some day, but for now… done with walking on the moon!

April 22, 2007

Posted in Uncategorized at 7:21 am by changisme

昨夜做了个很奇怪的梦, 现在已经变朦胧了.有一位长胡子的老人出现在我面前,让我去做一件什么事.他把一路要怎么走,会看到什么,听到什么,在什么时间会发生什么"意外",我要怎样对付都一一告诉我了.现在想来,如果不是在梦我头脑不会正常运转,若是现在他把我,不要说人生, 就说今后三天的生活中脚下每一块石块都刻画得淋漓尽致,我会是什么反应?

在梦中,我自然是像故事里的人物一样接受了命运的"挑战".一路走下去, 左右都是深山老林,松柏像夕阳红的夫妇,相互锁住了手臂,周围的动物和我忙忙碌碌地奔来跑去, 他们就好像视而不见, 看不出他们知不知道我在执行这样一件不可思意的任务.

一路上,我反反复复感到的只有,天啊…真的是和他讲得一模一样.也不知道是可悲还是可笑.最终的使命完成了没有我都不曾记得,但既然没有一该的踌躇可让我回忆,想来老人所说的也许都应验了吧. 再者说, 结果也就不是那么重要了,它不在是我手下塑造的宝石,而是那位老人炉里炼成的金子.

本以为我一路总会想做点什么和他说的不同的事,看看有什么后果,但要么是我梦中头脑涩涩的想不出做什么,要么是我前前后后都在惊诧中度过.

之后还做很多零碎的小梦,但每一个都有让我惊讶的成分,比如一个是RON告诉我,他要把我的桌子拿走.我倒也没觉得生气,就是觉得…啊?没想到. 还有一个梦,是我发现自己有20个留言,呵呵,我知道我常不接电话,但这也太希罕了吧. 人都说, 日有所思,夜有所梦.难道心底深处想得都是自己要不到的事?

再说那个老人的梦,我道真不想对自己的命运了解到如此细节.但每时每刻,我又想了解更多所谓"后果".总而言之,我想知道的是所有不同的黄砖路尽头的翡翠城,但挑哪能一条走还是要我自己决定.这样想得完美,但就像我逛商店一样,眼前明明白白的选择,还是会让我眼花瞭乱.

April 19, 2007

I want to know how to be content…

Posted in Uncategorized at 9:29 pm by changisme

Even though everybody knows that birds cuddle up in their cozy nests when the sunsets, somehow it just doesn’t REALLY register all the time. Today, when the house was so quiet, and I didn’t have music on, and my mind suddenly wasn’t so busy for awhile, I realized the birds that were chirping when I came in the door have gone to sleep! The idea tickled my mind for awhile. Meanwhile, I just wanted to smile because I somehow see it’s okay to live a life as a commoner.

There are so many things I don’t really admit that I believe, like adventures and excitements. I don’t really want to admit that they are important to me. I want to be like some people who lead their lives doing ordinary things but have peace and love flow through them in abundance. I want to seek that peace and the absence of self, but unless I convince myself of the fattest lie in the world, I can’t deny  how much I get addicted to adventures and sparks. Subconsciously, I’m not satisfied with stillness of a water lily, I’d drip a drop of water right next to its floating leaf and hear the ringing of water swallowed up to the centre.

That is why I do so many things, there are indeed many exciting things around me. On the other hand should I really chase after the butterflies in every direction? I want to know how to live in peace, and learn to be someone who can adore ordinary rythms.

April 16, 2007

weather change

Posted in Uncategorized at 7:57 pm by changisme

Today there was the most dramatic weather change. Before my exam it was so cold and wet and miserable. I was feeling tired and sick at the same time.

The exam was very long and way too much calculator punching. I just wanted it to end, nothing fun, just punch punch punch. I haven’t had an exam like this ever!! It puts your mind to sleep and your fingers detached.

When i walked out though, it was amazingly nice! The sun was shining on the grass and the puddles on the cemented ground are gone. It totally didn’t feel like the end of the day, but rather the dawn after darkness. Gotten off the bus, on my way home, I felt like singing some old songs about birds. There were quite a few unsurprisingly. I guess people all like how tey look so free and beautiful. I wonder if birds sing songs about humans. "Ah! These creatures who change colours everyday. Ah! These creatures who have no beak but build wonderful nests!"

April 15, 2007

come and try me!

Posted in Uncategorized at 1:52 pm by changisme

There are many things sprouting in my life and my mind. I just feel it very hard to concentrate and do something I should be doing. I know it’s hard to dfine what it is I should spend my time on. Usually the norm is deal witht he important and the urgent. In my case however, I think there is a important and there is the urgent, but they don’t happen to coincide. What’s more, the important things which lingers in my heart so much that I can’t not deal with it even if I wanted, are hardly solvable. They are issues that I want to put a golden stamp on and just say, done!

I took a stroll in the neighbourhood today and the sun was shining through every crack in the clouds. That was fairly early in the morning and I fel the light was transforming the smell of the soil and the streets. Then I remembered how in the Alchemist, the universe conspires to help those who are determined enough to pursue their dreams. I feel pretty brave in my everyday life now. I feel that I want to be involved and conquer what there is to conquer, stand up against what there is to stand up against. In a way, there are more and more things, especially those involving people, are not problems I can write up a solution for (but then even for math, there are so many things I can’t solve anyway!). I feel encouraged in a way to go on.

I don’t know why I do have that much courage actually. These things stress me out so much. Maybe I feel important in my life now that I have these problems? Maybe I’m still not over the days when I never had many people problems around me because I felt nobody cared to be in my life? In any case, I haven’t felt any chill in my heart that I just want to shut the book and walk away. Probably, one of these days, I will eventually break down and wrap up my hope in a brown paper bag. I probably will close up the aroma of warmth in the crackling sound of the paper. There sounds like a fearful finale I don’t want to get into.

It’s not like I’m not overwhelmed, I am somtimes. I feel that my abilities are so limited. It’s like how some people think I’m so capable, it’s more because I’m so willing to take on much and pretend that I’m so capable, and act like I know what I’m doing. I somehow don’t believe in fear even though I entertain so much. Maybe it’s because I have so much of it that I’m more conscious of not letting it dominate my life.

But then, by avoiding it so much, I still let it drive me in whatever I do.

It’s really quite unbelievable how some people can acknnowledge their fears and not become slaves to them. In the one sense, simply intellectually saying I have fears, doesn’t seem to do enough. I often find I need some profound expression in order to get my heart out of lies like "I’ve got nothing to be scared of".

On the other hand, I can’t really open up this pot of hot chilli and not sneeze right? Once I open up the bag, really open, the fearsome cat jumps out, and I’m all panicky. In an ideal circumstance, ZI turn to someone else. People tell me to turn to God, but He’s so hard to turn to sometimes. He’s always there yeah, but as much as I don’t want to make Him abstract, He’s so not tangible. He’s not someone I can just grab a hold on the arm and cling to. Well.. okay sometimes I do imagine myself doing that, but I don’t think it’s healthy. It makes me feel insane, and I feel some inner self is coming out, and it’s some unacceptible inner self.

If it’s people around me I should be turning to, and they are representabives or tenticles as it were of God, then I need to consider so much. I need think what’s the consequences of me burdening the others which this, and what its effects on the community and our future relationships. I’m a quick tempered person, and don’t tend to consider these things before it happens, but I do a lot of that thinking after the fact, which is really stupid indeed.

Anyway, back to what I said… I still want to take on life in the arena, but I just don’t know how.

April 13, 2007

muddled up love

Posted in Uncategorized at 7:12 pm by changisme

It’s really hard to say if I actually enjoyed this past school year. I
think I’ve gotten to know a few quite exciting people, and the material
definitely can’t be called boring anymore. On the other hand, it really
was a school year when I’ve spent so much time on homework. Before, if
anyone asked me if you died today, would you regret the way you spent
this past.. however long, like month or weeks or whatever, I’d never
have regretted, but this year, I’m not so sure. I really don’t regret
having taken these courses. Some of them were really hard, but if I
were to live all over again, I would still take them. However… I
still think I wanted my time back. I miss those times when I had free
time in my hand. I miss those days when I can just get my homework over
with in no time and move on to the rest of the fun. I don’t really know
if this kind of "free" can coesist with academic challenges… Or maybe
I just can never be satisfied with status quo.

The latter is really a pretty scary thought. I don’t like the attitude
of always looking into someone else’s plate, and never be satisfied
with my own. On the other hand, I can always see how my situation can
be perfected. I mean no situation is perfect, and of course we always
like perfect things better, that’s what perfect means by definition.

It really boils down to what love is and how it gradiates. I can always
say love my life as it is even if I see it as imperfect, but does it
mean that I have to love the perfect, imagined version less? How is
that possible?

Does love mean "like"? I can’t really like the imperfect better over
the perfect… that’s just my psychological limitation! Then can i love
the former over the latter? Maybe love means commitment, and if I
commit myself into something I would actually LOVE it as it were. It’s
like a person I guess, how I love someone doesn’t entirely mean how I
like them, but also how much I’ve invested myself into these people.

It’s like music really, some pieces are good, but not all that great or
classic, but I listen to them so many times, that my day dreams are
intertwined with them. I could listen to some songs from years ago and
recall what I was thinking about when I let the stereo dancing away in
the background.

It’s also like hard math courses. I don’t like them so much after
awhile, because they constantly scratches my brain, but since I’m too
stupid to either give up or excel, I end up wrestling with and melt
into it. At the end, I have to say I love it. Someone would say, you’re
just afraid to actually realize you don’t love it because you’ve spent
so much time, or you are too proud. I don’t really think that’s the
issue, not the main part anyway. It’s almost like I’ve become close
enough with it that my critical eye (if I had one) can no longer focus.
The love and hate becomes all muddled up and not sensible anymore. I
wonder what it’s like when mothers actually conseive a child in them.
It gives her pain and troubles, but the mothers deepest and most
premitive love can be so interlinked … or intralink??? with the
baby… to be.

April 12, 2007

rebel and student card

Posted in Uncategorized at 1:52 pm by changisme

I don’t know why it’s so hard to talk to my parents sometimes. It’s not like I got mad at them, but somehow… anyway, it seems to me no one else except for them think I"m rebellious. They think I’ve been rebelling since I was 8 and never really stopped. Who else thinks that? I can’t really think of one, maybe my aunt who is very close to my mom.
 
I guess I should be glad that my parents don’t have the same kind of lame "Asian" standard as many other parents, but they have the weirdest criteria for their daughter too. I’m so tired of talking about it now.
 
Another thing worth mentioning. I got my new student card for the extra year I’m staying in UBC. Thinking about it, I’ve had that long library card number for all these years, and each time I got o a computer it’s become so automatic as I type it out. Now that I have to type a different number though I’ve remembered it alright, it feels different. It’s almost like a precursor for my departure from this somewhat isolated penisula. Maybe one of these days… I’ll come back. I don’t think I hate it. Or maybe I just don’t know any better!

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