Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. - Romans 5

Sunday, June 14, 2009

dunno, me ranting a bit back in May...

I have realized that childhood experiences have absolutely no weight or meaning in the world. The innocence that is embodied by the little children dies quickly away when exposed to culture and the environment. When I think back, I remember the good days, the happy days where I didn’t see or care about life’s sufferings.
Again I emphasize that lack of weight of childhood memories. Especially those shared with other people. I think back and wonder, do these people I’ve have known for years and years ever look back and see the good times we have shared together? Doesn’t that qualify us as friends? Don’t you care about me now, as a friend? No, no matter how many delightful or sad moments experienced together, I have concluded that at the moment of the turn of the tide, those pages are locked away, never to be brought to light again. People change, and that is something I have to accept, though unwillingly. I see stories, novels, dramas, epics, ballads, tales, and poems talk about friendships and love, from all cultures, yet they all seem so ideal…to the point that I want to believe the message they carry is true. But alas, reality is of course as far away from ideal as possible.
I am truly grateful to my parents, especially my mother, whom I love dearly. She has traded her life away for mine, superimposed all her dreams and future upon me, may I never let her down. When it was time for me to be born, she made a choice, one highly unfavored by all educated doctors in two countries, one that chose between her life and mine. Through the grace of God, we were both spared, but she had to suffer great pain and risk to do so. She has devoted her time solely upon her kids, given up the dream of perusing a career in the land of opportunities. Though countless times I blame her for her raising decisions, such as keeping me deprived from both American culture and Asian culture alike, I am glad she was there for me when I felt as if the whole world came crashing down around me, and a multitude of voices and fingers pointed and condemned for existing in an environment unsuitable for a person like me. She kept my faith alive, had hope that I may find a place in the world where I can be truly at peace, truly comfortable. Alas, I do not know if I had found such a place, or if such a place even exists, but for her, and my dad, and all those who continue to support me and I them, I will persist and have hope that a place like that in my dreams will be provided for me. If not, I will surely find such a place in heaven with my Father.
I would say I am a person who has suffered a lot. Then others would scoff and ask if I had ever broken up with a person I love, if I have ever felt prolonged hunger before, if I have a terminal illness, if I have ever watched a loved one die before, or if I have ever killed a person. Then all I can say is that my suffering amounts to nothing compared to magnitude of these tribulations. My suffering only consists of torment at the hand of the American public education system, the story of a Chinese kid in a very American environment with no one around to share his pain, and abandonment by the Church, the one and only sanctuary I believed I had in this cruel environment. I will not say no one in the Church came to my rescue, as there are always people filled with compassion and love wherever the Spirit dwells. But the need for an environment for a pitiful child like me never provided, though it may have been on the top of the “to do list” for decades before I was born. Now I pray that though I am not the first victim, that I may be the last. Not only did my church refuse to accept my Taiwanese culture, but rejected me when I asked to be taught and assimilated into the American culture. The influence of culture has spread deep into the youth of the Church, no longer containable by the deacons and elders. Though they pray and hoped for a better future for the future generations, the blight of culture has already taken root. And I was swallowed and torn to bits. I do not know how long I was depressed, or how long I stayed aloof. Circumstances have not been kind to me. Everyone close to me has moved away, some to New Jersey, some to California, some to far away places I can never reach, though geographical distance is not an issue. The sadness of leaving a familiar place full of friends to a foreign one is great, but the sadness of the one left behind can sometimes be greater. I was left behind, and left with the responsibility to bring new people into the church. Though the duty was imposed upon me, I followed through, and my actions have blossomed in the church. Regardless, I have been effectively kicked out of my sanctuary, only to watch from afar. No longer can I keep my duties; no longer do I exist in the records of the church. I am now one of those poor children who enter the doors of the house of love, only to be ignored and never come again. Yet I continue to come, each time greeted as if it was my first time, as if I know no one at all. I sympathize with the regulars whom are now ignored, those who have called the church home for over twenty, over thirty years. They come, but few greet them, and none include them in the social atmosphere. Why bother come at all? There is no longer fellowship here, and worship can be done anywhere, at any time, as long as the heart is there and sincerity is there. For a long time, my church has taught me indirectly that fellowship is not necessary for my walk with God. That is not true. There is no greater joy than finding fellowship. Maybe when I was a kid, I experienced it, I remember it, and I loved it. But for a long time now the concept of fellowship has eluded me. Maybe the cure to depression is fellowship. Maybe it is God.
Forgiveness is the hardest thing for me to do. I cannot forgive the world, for treating me as if I amounted to nothing. For treating me as if I didn’t belong. Maybe I didn’t belong. Maybe I should have stayed in Taiwan. The food is great there, the education system is great there, the 24/7 studying I can relish, as long as all my peers are doing the same. Military service is no problem. Up to 20% unemployment rate is no problem. Living in a dirty urban atmosphere is no problem. Sometimes I dream I could read and write Chinese, sometimes I wake up and find my hundreds of Chinese children stories that I remember the plot and themes, yet can no longer read the words. I wonder if I can recover talents that have been aged away. If it’s possible, then I shall try. Can I forgive those who have hurt me by their selfish actions, even if they meant no harm or do not even know the depth of their cuts? I have to forgive my parents for not understanding a lost child in an age of information. I refused to change, I wanted to remain innocent. The world would not let me, nor tell me how to change. I enter college as a blank slate, even now my understanding of how the inner workings of culture works. My parents didn’t understand either, but persisted in keeping me solitude and deprived. Alas, when I utterly collapsed did my parents realized and apologized, for I have suffered, and they have suffered with me. May the future of my younger brother be blessed and full of happiness, as he will not have to share some of the problems I faced or will face in mine. Can I forgive my church for not coming to my aid? Even after evidence was leaked out and blasted in their faces? I am grateful of the encouragement and counseling I received after that event, but the real help I needed, I never received. To be honest, I felt as if I was being rejected even more. Some ask me now, why didn’t I try to get involve? Why do they have to come to me, why cannot I go to them? Why can I not seek the help I need. Didn’t? I believe I did. I never gave up. I persisted. Not all my efforts were in vain, but again circumstances kept me apart. Geographical distance, inept social skills, childhood brainwashing, depravation of culture, status as a high school male, and time restrictions all led to futile efforts and short-term relationships. What can I do? I refused to give up though, but again, freshmen year in college, circumstances kept me from finding fellowship. Even though I met some people in ACF, like Joy, Tiffany, Kevin, and Jeff, I wanted to maintain relationships I have already formed, and entered Overflow. At first I thought I was amazing. The power of American Christianity never ceases to amaze me. But alas, the people I knew started leaving, and I felt abandoned. The small group I attended chose to be a poor one, one that has already build strong walls of memories, feelings, and culture around them. I couldn’t break through. Thus, I eventually left second semester, as well as taking a break from my walk with God. I focused my entire attention and energy into getting to know my floor. Whether that succeeded, time will tell. Again circumstances led me to be in the smallest class to consist of Asian Christians. Even though I know them now, the lost of one year of time spent without them will be a huge impact. I now feel blessed for having entered Asian Christian Fellowship my sophomore year. Some things I will remain bitter about, as all the efforts are one-sided. No one sought me out, no one took time to get to know me, to disciple me, to reach out to me, or to congratulate me. But I never gave up. It felt like the first few times at GPC, where after the sermon, there would be a social, but I felt left out. I felt as if each time I go, it was my first time. I was a newcomer, to be greeted, but greeted shallowly. I knew no one, and I felt left out of all conversations. Again, regardless of my feelings and pessimism I continued to go. I now see the fruit of my efforts, but wonder how deep the ties truly are? Have I finally found my dream, an “Asian Christian fellowship” I have long wanted back home in KC that I saw elsewhere across the world? Will I be disappointed in the future? Can I even be disappointed now that I have come so far? That is the question.
When people did not provide the things I need, did they wrong me? Even if they were the only ones who could? What if they didn’t even know? Is there any responsibility for them to provide? What if they did know, and intentionally refuse? What if said people didn’t even know who I am? Is there anyone to blame but myself? Or can I not even judge myself? Does God command me to forgive all who have wronged me? Even if they don’t know the person whom they have wronged, or don’t know they have wronged, or refused to admit they have wronged?
Who am I to judge, but who am I to dangle a piece of meat and a jug of water in front of a starving child, and refuse to acknowledge his plight and relieve him of his suffering.
Is the answer to forgive and forget? The painful memories still bring me to the ground in tears whenever I remember. Can I be forgiven? Can God take the pain away?
What if the answer is to confront these people? I don’t know if I can bear their confused looks, their pity, and their apologies. I don’t even know if I want to hear their apologies, or ever forgive them deep in my heart. I do not know if I can forget the pain I have suffered, even though I have forgave them.
What I do know is I cannot remain as I am, bitter and entrenched by my memories and my pain. I do not want to live out my nightmares that plague me during the night. Life is too wonderful for that. God is too powerful and loving for that. I will see what I can do. I will change. I will grow.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Something I see happening all the time

Christian songs. Are there really such a thing? Many times I hear my Christian friends professing their love for a certain song by their favorite Christian band, or admiring their favorite Christian artist or singer. I cannot help but feel that they are treating these songs and artists as just another genre of music, instead of musicians and lyrics devoted to worshiping God. If you know me, then you would know that I would never put one of these so-called “Christian” songs on my playlist among other songs and seldom listen to them casually. That is because I don’t believe I can treat that specific song as one of worship if the song before and after it are not. If you can listen to listen to a “un-Christian” song one moment, enjoy the music and the lyrics and feeling relaxed, and all of the sudden transform into worshiping God mode when a “Christian” song pops up, then you are very special. But I don’t think I can do that, nor most people I know.

Now back to the concept surrounding the label “Christian” songs. What makes these songs different from all other songs? Are they more than a genre? Is their musicality, audience, and appeal to popular culture much different from other pop songs? A good friend of mine told me that the difference is in the lyrics. “Christian” songs are such because of the lyrics that are written to invoke a sense of worship and love. There is a power within the words that makes the listener want to jump up for joy and give their heart to God. In a way it makes sense, but at the same time, there are many other songs that have similar lyrics, with similar words like love, hope, faith, God, worship, heaven etc, that are definitely not written with the intent of worship.

Again, when people mention Christian bands or Christian artists on how their voices are beautiful or how they are great musicians and how they love them and such, I cannot help but imagine that my friends are just treating them like any other band or artist out there. It is as if Christians need their own genre of music to fit in culture or to equate themselves like their peers. Then the artists become idols of this world. Another good friend of mine related Christian artists to pastors: leaders, role-models, and people whose duty is to bring others to Christ and help them understand what it means to worship and walk with God. I believe this similarity is very true, but then the vice versa is also true. Pastors can become idols too. Consider this scenario (which is real and has happened many times before). There was a church that had a very well-known pastor. His sermons were captivating, and his voice was mesmerizing. He gave great advice and was very strong in his walk with God. His congregation could be considered one of the most blessed in the nation. But for some reason he retired, or left, or even died. After that, his successor did not match the fervor or captivation that the pastor had. Soon after, more than 3/4 of the church left. That pastor may have never intended or even imagine it, but he had become an idol in the eyes of his congregation. No longer do they go to his church for worship or fellowship. They are not there for God, but for him.

Same with Christian artists. I believe most of them are sincere in that they write and sing for God and for his kingdom. They are in positions of leadership and are beacons of light to many of their listeners. But they are also dancing on the line between being a leader for God and being an idol or a celebrity. That is because there is money involved. Money has the power to corrupt, and so does influence. As artists with many admirers, it is very hard for their fans to see both them and God when listening to those songs. I believe that more than not, the artist blocks out God and take all the glory. Again I emphasize that their motivation is probably for good, but it is the fault of their listeners that they become idols

To the point: I do not believe there are “Christian” songs, but I do believe in “songs of worship.” To treat these songs only for their choice of words, musicality, or similarity in tone with other cultural songs, or treat the artists due to their looks, voice, or skill, then all we have done is fallen into idolatry. In the end, we Christians should not listen to the songs just because they are called “Christian” or written/sung by “Christian” artists. Then we are just treating “Christianity” as a label, desensitizing the meaning of the word to satisfy our need to secure a niche in society. It isn’t about the songs, or the artists, or the lyrics themselves. It is about worshiping God. It is about lifting your eyes up toward Him and having a steadfast heart before Him. It is about praising Him and loving Him with all you got. The power of worship comes from God himself, not from lyrics, not from musical notes, and not from humans. It is ironic that God provides the spirit of worship so that we can worship Him. It sounds pretty roundabout, but if He did not do that, then we would be cut out of the picture. He allowed us to worship him for our sake. Now even though there aren’t “Christian” songs that contain any power to conjure a spirit of worship within a person, they do facilitate in it. So does the motivation behind the songs. To me, the songs are the testimonies of the artist, representing their walk with God and the trials and tribulations they had faced in their lives. Even if the original intent of the song was to earn money and gain fame, anyone can turn that song into one for worship. Same is true for “non-Christian” songs. It is possible to turn a few love songs into songs of worship by imagining the “he” within the lyrics as God. Also, no one needs songs to worship of God. Worship isn’t about songs or singspiration. Those are only forms of worship. It is perfectly fine for a person to pull up some of these songs, and have their own little worship time, and it is wonderful to sing in a congregation together as one voice lifted up toward God, but worship is much more than that. It is living out every second of one’s life for God. Christians do not need to conform to the world, create idols for themselves, or follow the god of the world. All we have to do is worship God and keep fellowship.

"Too many equate being emotionally moved by music as being moved by the Spirit, but these are not the same. Real worship happens when your spirit responds to God, not some musical tone. In fact, some sentimental, introspective songs hinder worship because they take the spotlight off God and focus on our feelings." - Rick Warren

Edit: So, I realized that the musical artists are leaders in the Christian faith in their own right. They walk a narrow path of pop star and worship leader, but most have true passion in leading people to God. Only the viewers and listeners decide whether to focus on them as idols, or as spiritual leaders. Only us, the congregation, decide how to live our lives and fill our hearts.

Here I am to Worship (In English & Chinese)

1. 神你是光 Light of the world, 你照亮了黑暗 You step down into darkness.
開我眼讓我看見 Opened my eyes let me see. 你的榮美 Beauty that made
讓我心渴慕你 this heart adore you
希望與你不分離 Hope of a life spent with you.

(副歌)所以,我在這裡敬拜 [Chorus] And here I am to worship, 屈膝向你跪拜 Here I am to bow down,
大聲宣告你是我的神 Here I am to say that you're my God, 噢, 你是如此美好 You're altogether lovely,
你是如此配得 Altogether worthy,
我在這裡敬拜你聖名 Altogether wonderful to me.


2. 萬王之王 King of all days,
坐在至高寶座上 Oh so highly exalted
散發榮耀的光芒 Glorious in heaven above.
謙卑自己 Humbly you came
來到你所造之地 to the earth you created.
為了愛犧牲自己(副歌) All for love's sake became poor.


**我不知道多少代價 I'll never know how much it cost
能使我罪釘上十架 (x3) to see my sin upon that cross. And I'll never know how much it cost
(Repeat 副歌) to see my sin upon that cross. No I'll never know how much it cost to see my sin upon that cross. (Chorus)

Source http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTqcISKrH7E&feature=related

Thursday, May 28, 2009

耶穌走在我的身邊 (Footprints in the Sand)

當這個世界說 "你服不服?" 我說 "不服!" 因為神是我心裡的力量, 我永遠永遠不用害怕!

現在這世界受審判, 這世界的王要被趕出去.

《Footprints in the Sand》(来源:网络)
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
一晚,我梦到我与上帝一起走过沙滩
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
生命中的许多场景、一一显现于天空
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
我注意到,每幕景象出现时,沙滩上的脚印..
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
有时是两组脚印
other times there were one set of footprints.
有时,则是一双足迹

This bothered me because I noticed
这让我很困惑,因为我注意到
that during the low periods of my life,
当我生命的低潮
when I was suffering from
当我痛苦
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
生气、哀伤、失败
I could see only one set of footprints.
我看到一双足印
So I said to the Lord,
所以,我对上帝说
“You promised me Lord,
「上帝啊~你跟我保证
that if I followed you,
我若跟随你
you would walk with me always.
你就会永远在我身边
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
但是,我注意到,在我生命中最难过的时间
there have only been one set of footprints in the sand.
沙滩上只有一双足印
Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?”
为什么再我最需要你的时候,你却不在我身边?
The Lord replied,
上帝回音,
“The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
「你看到沙滩上只有一双足迹
is when I carried you.”
是因为这时,我背著你。」

(I seem to give out this story out a lot. If you have received it from me, feel blessed!)

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Why did no one come to my aid when I needed it?

Why did everyone my age leave me?

Why are there no Christian friends there to support me next to me?

Why did my church split?

Why was there no fellowship at my church?

Why is everyone around me hurting in one way or another?

Why did no one reach out to me in college?

Why do I have to live so far from everyone?

Why are my non-believing friends more sincere and vulnerable?

Why can’t I find fellowship?

Why have I become one of the lost brothers of the 30 year legacy?

Why can I not accept myself?

Why will no one answer when I call out?

Why did I come to America?

Why has my family become so distant and foreign?

Why will no one be vulnerable to me?

Why will no one talk to me?

Why will no one lean on me?

Why do I try so hard?

Where is the love?


I'm almost going to give up...so close to giving up.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

♫ 美好的日子在等著我 ♫

Lol as Jimmy Chang says, I do love to use this phrase as my facebook status.

Reason TBA (I'll edit it in later).

There are multiple meanings basically. Some very deep, some shallow, and some that transcend my entire life.

But to meditate on this phrase (taken directly from facebook) "yup keeps me thinking positive, keeps me thinking of the future, keeps me thinking of the good things that has happened in my life."

P.S. If you cannot read Chinese, it says (my translation of course cuz I wrote it duh):
♫good times are waiting for me♫

Saturday, May 23, 2009

God's Promise

Found this poem in my house while chasing crane flies with my dog. Enjoy!

God didn't promise days without pain,
laughter without sorrow or sun without rain.
But God did promise strength for the day
,
comfort for the tears and a light for the way.
And for all who believe in His kingdom of love,
He answers their faith with peace from above.

-Author Unknown

Something I need to think about.

What I believe in

I believe in fellowship. But I do not believe in camps where emotions and feelings are allowed to run wild. No matter the motivation, no matter the original intent for good, growth is minimal and harm will be done, and the most one can get out of them is a spiritual high. Like all highs, it will die out. Christ can be your anti-drug, but it is not a drug one dopes himself or herself with. Love can only exist where the purpose of the camp is kept, and there is fellowship. A camp swamped with culture and lawlessness cannot teach people, and cannot hold the spirit. My final answer: what I expect from a camp is fellowship and growth, one that brings me closer with other people, one where I can gain experience and wisdom, one where I can see God’s love.

I believe in love, and I believe love only comes from God. That is not to say that people who do not believe In God cannot truly love. God loves the world, and that means everyone. Our original human nature is based upon his love for us, and therefore everyone is already loved by God and has obtained some of that love to share with others. I believe that for me to love another, I have to accept God’s unconditional love for me. I believe that Christians should not date a non-Christian. He or she should try to convert the other first. How can one love the person he or she will be united into one forever if that person doesn’t know God’s love? How can one accept the other knowing that that person will suffer eternal punishment? How can the first thing on your mind not be to try to save the one you love from eternal damnation and give him or her the ultimate gift that is God’s love?

1 Corinthians 13

I believe through testimony God’s love can be portrayed the best. I feel God’s hand in the world mostly through other people’s experiences in life. May it be a sad, horrible experience. May it be great tribulations and suffering. May it be full of joy and happiness. May it be full of people touched by the Holy Spirit. I learn best from these memories and tales. This may be just my personal preference. I wish my testimony may one day become powerful enough to move others. People will not believe just because you tell them. Sometimes, pushing the faith will only be counter-productive. It will drive those you want to save farther away. To get them interested, to satiate their curiosity of Christianity, testimony is needed. You cannot talk to them, but you can show them. You can walk the Good Walk in front of them, and they shall see the light. I know too many cases where it is sad that those who truly are seeking get driven away from Christ by too much forceful pushing...and once the Christian realized that their efforts were in vain, they abandon the person they were supposed to care for. It shouldn’t be like that. Persevere please. For their sake, and your own. There is always hope.

Matthew 5:16, Romans 4:3-4, Genesis 2:24

Friday, May 22, 2009

of pictures

Pictures. Photographs. Oh, how technology has downgraded you to bits of data to be multiplied by the thousandfold. There once was a time when pictures were all you had of family, lovers, and friends. Once upon a time a picture was worth a thousand words, and a multitude of feelings and memories. All I have to do I remember the photograph on my grandparent’s altar, the one of my great-grandfather. The photo was worth millions to them. The sadness of leaving family behind, never to see them again for decades behind the bamboo wall, such sadness is great enough to destroy the faith…what power. I remember the time when pictures were worth something. They were put into albums and scrapbooks, a placeholder of a speck of time long past. I can go flip through them and see memories locked away, but revealed upon opening. They are to be framed, looked upon with weary eyes when one is old. Now, they are everywhere, spammed on the internet. Pictures can be taken without limit, many at a time. Now it takes a collection of these JEPGS to capture a moment, more like a span of moments. Maybe it’s for the best, one can now store away every second of one’s life away in an allocated virtual space. Maybe it’s better to have the whole instead of the selected memories. After all, memories are priceless, but those you keep close to the heart stay warm.

journal notes

So, transferred from my journal from Catalyst 5/22/09

Am I a fringe person in ACF? After the discussion at chapter time, I thought about it. I guess I'm not the kind who doesn't come often or doesn't know a lot of people, but I definitely do not believe I fit into any circle within ACF.
You can say I am the ultimate floater of ACF, going from multiple small groups, from building to building, just trying to find people to hang out with. I go from Koenig to Mudd, then to Elliot, from Overflow to ACF and GF; from Shepley to Wheeler and then to Lopata House. I am everywhere and nowhere at the same time. What can I do to bring people into the fellowship, when I am the least qualified to open the door? Same with back home, and same now...I am the least qualified when I haven't been integrated or accepted yet, how can I bring others into a circle?
I tend to feel like I have a responsibility to bring in people, mostly those whose English is poor, but even I have great doubts of my capability to serve this duty. The blind cannot lead the blind, lest the both perish into the fire. I myself need to find the help I need, both on campus and back home, before I can give that same help and love others. Its not that I don't know people on campus who need help and encouragement. There is (list of people that will stay private in the journal)...these are all people I have seen and heard about that need help in their walk towards God or with God. May I be strong enough and ready enough to serve them.
I pray that God will send someone to me to melt my bitterness and break down my walls that I have built up over the years, so that I can stand up and serve the fellowship.

Meditate on Psalms 23 and Romans 12: my strongest spiritual gifts are 1) Giving, 2) Serving.

If no one will tell me their problems,
If all I hear is "don't worry about it,"
If no one will be vulnerable to me,
How can I help?
How will I know?
How can I be a comfort and a hope
to someone I love?

Saturday, May 16, 2009

‘bout of nostalgia

So to start...(from May 15, 2009)

I have concluded that I am an urban kind of person. I like the sights and sounds, I love people, and I love going from place to place, just looking at the different stores on every block. I think I would fit in a place, definitely Taipei, maybe Tokyo if I knew Japanese. I would browse all the bookstores and read the books I can, especially the English ones, because everyone knows those are the only books that are not cyran wrapped. I would see the bustling of traffic. I love the smells. I would walk by all the bakeries and smell the good smell of butter and bread. I would walk by the half-demolished buildings, smelling the reduced dust of once proud skyscrapers. I would walk by the alleyways behind department stores and apartments smelling the sewer smell unique to cities like this, those dark back streets where stray cats lurk. I would walk by the farmer’s market, where the bustle of market crowds the air, selling fresh fruits and vegetables, freshly caught whole fish, butchered pigs and meat hanging from a stand, live chickens that peck real hard if you get close, and fried snacks of every kind. I remember the first time I experienced anything it would probably be in Taiwan. Ice cream cones, Starbucks Coffee, fireworks, computer games…all in one place. If you don’t know what布袋 is, you are not from Taiwan. Sometimes I dream I lived in Taiwan, attended a Taiwanese public school where you wear a uniform, teachers hit you when you fault in class, and hang out everywhere afterwards. The strictness of the discipline has its merits. I believe in that, with proof everywhere I look and with my younger cousin. I remember all the parks I played in when I was little. They are small sanctuaries among rising skyscrapers and old districts. The many kinds of slides, swings, patios, assorted trees and brush, and the pools of Chinese catfish all make these parks small Edens, a place where children can come and enjoy their innocence and not be bothered by the pace of adults’ only meters away. Just the architecture of the different slides is enough for respect. Alas, now that I am older, I find that these places are disappearing. Why am I so full of nostalgia for a place I can never live at (at least till I'm 40)?

(Darn, why so deep? I blame Jay Chou’s Secret for this ‘bout of nostalgia!...and people who are in Taiwan at the moment commenting on how good the food is, I wish them the happiest time there!)

P.S. if anyone ever wondered why I sometimes have that dog (大麥) as my profile pic for a few days, guess no farther...I'm having a 'bout of nostalgia. Nothing wrong with that right?

The Beginning -EXPLANATION HERE


Don't really know why I started blogging. I remember the first time I really understood what a blog was, was when someone sent me a link to their blog...it was in Chinese. And it was by a 5th grader and a 6th grader. And they have more views and interactions in a day than I have in a month. Nonetheless, most kids their age had blogs, and they also had second daily lifestyle on the net where they interact with peers and adults without any distinction between age. Other than that, I always thought blogs where just internet pages where news reporters wrote about stuff happening in the world, slowly to replace newspapers and feeds to satisfy the need of information in this new age. Or they were a place where someone would post funny pictures or spread information about some movie (alternative to a forum). But it turns out, most of the blogs I've actually been to were just online diaries...they just happened to be in another language (Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Hindu, Spanish you name it). I just happened to come across one of their posts that had some information that I needed through Google or another search engine, or to find download links for songs, MVs, anime episodes etc. American blogs tend to not be about their daily lives, or those that are, those lives are not that normal. Mine is, I'm also asian, and people probably need a way to learn about me...so HERE I GO!

Conclusion: this is a typical asian thing, but a rare american thing...
(lol the first time I ever actively posted on a blog was for writing 1...for a class)

edit: The first few/many posts will come quickly one after another, to get everything I've written down out of the way. Also I don't think I'll ever plan to make this public. It isn't a typical asian blog after all, its my personal feelings. I'm gonna use it to reflect and remind myself.