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Random Articles
Thoughts that walk on abstract art... Sometimes when I’m walking in the midst of the youngsters, I feel like my entire life has walked past me without giving me a single look. Then I realize how much I hate them because they get me all entangled in jealousy. No, at the end of the day it’s not them that I hate. But it’s pretty obvious who I do hate. The other day I was going through my memories; watching bits and pieces in a flashback....
To do List (for the rest of 2017 and all of 2018)... Urgently think of a new title for my book. I used to be good at titling stories, why not now?! Once sorted with artwork, chase the press and publish that goddamn thing before the end of this year Buy Glühwein ingredients Make sure all major projects and decisions are done and made before Mercury Retrograde begins on December 3 Call mum more often Catch up on solitary pastimes (i.e. READ more GOOD fiction) Read more at open-mic nights Incorporate...
The Kill that made me feel Good... The kitten doesn’t like me. When Dad found her this morning on the doorstep, he thought it would be a nice idea to wake me with her. But instead of a pleasant wake-up call, the kitten scratched my head. When I come back from school it stares at me as if I weren’t a part of the family. We have decided to keep her in the carrier at nighttime.             I’ve just brushed my teeth and I’m ready to...
Memento mori [cut] There are two unpublished blog entries from last month. I’m evidently not doing that bad with my eight blogs in a month. Spring has hardly started and all they talk about is the weather and … [cut]. Instead of redrafting work, I’ve been watching tons of DVDs thanks to my flat mate’s amazing Lynch collection. I wonder if I can list films in my bibliography and if so, there’d be more films than books. My attention span is still...
Lunch break at Barbican Distractions are always good to a certain extent; especially if they are your own personal obligations of which you are aware are going to push you towards your desired accomplishments. Despite the long path yet to walk and explore, you cannot help but feel excited and overly curious. I don’t like speculations and I don’t want to have any expectations at all about what is ahead of me. Change is all. And the need of breaking out is also...
My attempt to sound like Charles Bukowski (letter to Ellen)... “Ellen, oh Ellen, Now I wonder why on earth am I worthy of drinking beer with the skeletons in your closet. Did I say skeletons? I’m sorry, there is just one – a bad one and he has almost consumed all my beer in the fridge. You can say he is a very demonic fellow, but it’s not me he wants to talk to. So how about, my dear, dear Ellen, to trap him? He knows something about you...

South from heaven

Do you think that we have reached a point where retelling the same story no longer works? We have retold the stories by Dickens, Shakespeare, the Brontes, Huxley, etc. – over and over. And depending on which generation you belong to- you might like the contemporariness of the remake. I think that ever since the ’00s ended- originality occurs only once out of ten. By the time you’re in your thirties, you begin to understand your parents because your sense of perception suddenly aligns with theirs. It’s a scary thought. It proves that Alison from the Breakfast Club wasn’t lying: “When you grow up, your heart dies.” It’s the age where your hopes and dreams are at stake, and it requires more effort and determination to stay strong and not give up. It gets harder decade after decade, especially for the artist. Did you read Ellis’s latest book where he talks about ‘Generation Wuss’? People these days are no longer immune to criticism, insults, offensiveness, or obscenity. All they want is to be liked, stand out and have tons of followers. Parents have become overprotective over their children, which means that they won’t ever be able to take proper care of themselves in the future. The only way they will try to save themselves is through victimization. If you have enough evidence to attach blame on others, you can easily paint yourself as the innocent victim. What can I say, there is hardly any courage or rebellion in that? The truth is, it’s all about money these days — compensation, restitution, penalties, and so on. What if we ever reach the state where our offensive writing and painting will be banned? What if ‘Brave New World’ (1932) becomes a reality? As if you aren’t already suffocating without soma… Transgressive fiction (Ellis, Bukowski, Palahniuk) teaches us how to channel our anger on a page. It teaches us about the worst things imaginable because sometimes you might find beauty inside of it because beauty doesn’t only exist through sunshine and smiles. But millennials are learning to fear the light. I’m not surprised that people are less happy nowadays. Postmodern art is at stake. We’ve seen it all before; we are bored. The re-innovation of the old no longer works or inspires. The contemporary sphere is full of political and natural disasters that require more of us to open our eyes and take action rather than write and paint about it. But the majority of the people don’t know what to do about first world problems- so they sink their heads. What...

My left arm is numb

Do you have friends that complain about you not getting in touch, but they see you active on social media? You are honest with them and tell them how stressed you are with work, life and family, etc. However, what they don’t know is that you have no concentration or focus left to relax and chill out. What happens is, you numb out and start going on social media because most of the time it, doesn’t require you to think. Smart people would do crosswords and keep the brain working, but I don’t. I really just want a bullet through my head sometimes, and that’s what social media does. There is more hope in a cigarette. I can’t just spare a minute or even one hour to writing or reading. I need two weeks to get into the realm of my creativity. I’ve tested it before. It’s the same as having a wound – it won’t heal within a day. I hate to say that it’s the same with writing and reading. Work, stress and other unhappy factors constitute to you losing your mind. It takes time to recover. If you are sick with a cold, you need time to recover. It’s just like that…but not many people understand. Everything is just spinning fast, and I’m doing my best not to throw up. Did I say there was a solar eclipse today or yesterday? This used to interest me…just like concerts used to interest me. And all the things that I do now, such as taking responsibility, work hard make me think what a selfish person I really am on the inside. I view many things as time-sensitive. I no longer know how to seize the day. I believe that I’m merely patient by working hard towards something better. I don’t know how long this patience is going to last because unhappiness is catching up. In the meantime, I remain sane through music and working out. I’m sick of repeating myself all the time. There’s nothing to write home about anymore. What am I still...

Oxenberger

Walking carrion is what I used to say, quoting Cioran. This is what a hopeless pessimist like him would describe a human being. I’ve done my best to shift my focus and attitude from that in the last decade, so let’s phrase it a little bit differently altogether: ‘Bite your way through this and think of the good stuff yet to come.’ I’ve always had hope – it’s something I need to get out of bed every day. There hasn’t been an instance where I wouldn’t get out of bed. No, I’m not happy, and neither are the people around me or the people that I love. I don’t know what to do except for staying strong myself. I’m not good at talking sense into people, even when they need it the most. Therefore, I feel useless most of the time. They believe what they want to believe. And you can’t change people. Unless you give me a story to write, I could create some sense. It’s the only time I’m clear-headed enough, as I’m given the chance to be imaginative and be my own God. It’s my way to remain sane, and I’m sure another million people out there feel this way. Today is the solar eclipse in Cancer, and we’re supposed to cultivate empathy. But how do you empathise if you don’t have empathy for yourself because you’re mentally so absent? Friends from high school used to judge me for continually feeling sorry for myself, and I don’t blame them. I could’ve done better in channelling my emotions. That’s what you get for being an overemotional Cancer with Saturnian energies. What were you supposed to know as a lost teenager anyway? – Learn, grow. Unfortunately, in the process of it, you numb out a lot. You don’t entirely show how much you care because it did you no good in the past. Observe, but remain objective and reserved. Either that or whatever it is that you feel is now so outdated, you already know the consequence. It’s a cliché – a past lesson already learned. It’s just that everyone has to go down that road, and it feels good to leave it behind as soon as you can. Empathy, however, is about others. Not everyone lets you change him or her, even though you love them the most. It doesn’t matter if you just want to help. Everyone I love the most is so broken. All I’m doing is making sure I’m still standing upright, focus on the things that I can do, or have to do....

Motherhood

The majority of millennials have more important things to do than settle down with kids. I can’t say I know everything about motherhood, but I’ve learnt and witnessed enough to say that I will pass on it. Many other components constitute to my decision: mental health, financial situation, the fear of responsibility and incapability. You might say that fear is a result of cowardice, which is fine. Just give me the chance to tell you the whole story first. I love my mother, more than anything else in the world. Throughout my life, she had always stood by me and ignored all the terrible things that I said and did to her (especially when I was younger). Somehow my sister and I have become the purpose of her life. Back in the late 70s and early 80s, my mum felt lost in Hong Kong. She had quite a terrible break-up after seven years of seeing that person. And when she got to know my dad, it was kind of a miracle. She emigrated to Germany for him to start a new life. It’s funny to note that she doesn’t like children. Nonetheless, she taught at a kindergarten in Hong Kong. I believe that when she accepted my dad’s proposal and moved to Germany, she still didn’t like children, and then, she was pregnant with me when she was twenty-six. What do millennials do at this age nowadays? You will probably meet a lot of them who have finished college and decided to go travelling. Or, they didn’t bother going to college yet. Instead, they work, save money and go see the world first. This trip usually determines what they choose for their future. Back in the days, people didn’t have this option, not to mention the mindset for opportunities, unless they get married before thirty and have kids. Why would they do that? Because they considered it as normal? Because marriage and reproduction are a part of the Bible? But then again, if you look closely at your parents’ lives and the choices that they made, do you see how secure they are? You can’t judge them for what they chose, because they are financially ok, have a home and a life, and they did their best to raise you. What is going to happen to those who chose not to settle down early? Can you say that they have lived and seen more than their parents? This is tricky, because of the different perceptions between parents and their children. Their children are millennials, who choose to experience the...

Died a little

Jordan Peterson’s second rule for life reminds me a little bit of Immanuel Kant’s theory of the goodwill, except that Peterson expresses it with more compassion and takes it from a different perspective. Kant’s moral theory teaches us that there is nothing good within humanity except for the goodwill. Generally, there is no good or bad in this world – the world is merely natural. There is only the survival instinct. We are the only species that try to define good and bad by acting it. The only way to show good, according to Kant, is to treat others how we wish to be treated. Though in Peterson’s eyes, we should treat ourselves like people for whom we’re responsible. I see a strong connection between these two statements. They actually made me realise that I’ve been doing my best to live my life according to Peterson’s principles the most. And to be honest, you have to prioritise yourself in a way that you take care of your physical and mental health.  By doing that, you’re responsible for your well-being, and as long as you are content with yourself, you may start treating others the way you wish to be treated. I don’t know how to call this, if not a Buddhist principle. You can’t refer any of this to Christianity or other, because religion has triggered conflicts and wars. (Note: I don’t view Buddhism as religion.) But this is not what I want to discuss. I want to talk about selfishness. I don’t know about others, but I am very prone to a guilty conscience, mostly in situations where I shouldn’t feel guilty. I know what is right for me and I apply that to my life as much as I can. Knowing myself well, I only take so much responsibility that I can handle, and I am honest about it. If I don’t have a full grip on existing obligations, I won’t just mindlessly add another responsibility to my life. But this situation becomes debatable if a component of the evident responsibility requires an addition. Anyway, is it fair if you accuse me of being selfish? I currently don’t feel like I have a good grip over my life, and I think I need help and time to fix it. The motivation that I have is nowhere close to a year ago when it was all about self-publishing my book and make meaning of the ten years that I’d spent on it. Although very proud of the accomplishment I don’t agree that I’ve done enough. In other words,...

Five

It’s supposed to be a warm spring day, but I don’t feel it yet on the side of my office. There is also not much for me to do since my boss is taking forever to give me feedback on the Expression of Interest that I’ve been working on to help the company apply for funding. There is only so much that I can do. I’ve also been trying to help the new accountant who has trouble tracking the previous accountant’s footsteps, because, while working here, she didn’t set up a good system for anyone new to jump straight in. She was Chinese. I guess Chinese people just like things complicated or have things structured and organized their way. I’ve witnessed that many times before. Anyway, I am not at all knowledgeable enough to help out with accounting. I was just googling the map of China, because I wanted to see where exactly my dad was born. Hong-Chow showed me the very east of China, south of Shanghai. My mum is full-on Hong Kongese, my dad migrated there when he was younger, but I’d like to say that both my parents are from Hong Kong. I think I feel some sort of a pride along with them. People from Hong Kong don’t usually like to be compared to people from mainland China. It’s like Hong Kong gives them privilege, because of the British colony. It’s the same with Cantonese, which, I personally find sounds much better than Mandarin. The origin of Cantonese is not 100% known. Apparently, there are not enough historical records, except that it leads back to the Tang Dynasty. People like to call it a dialect, but it’s, in fact, a language. If it was a dialect (which literally means: ‘words used’), then I would understand Mandarin perfectly, but I don’t, except that every now and then I spot a word that sounds the same. But the tone and structure are different. I remember when my mum sent me to a Chinese School in Hamburg to learn Mandarin along with writing Chinese. During that time, she befriended a lady (whose kids I also made friends with) who advised her to find me hobbies, or leisure activities outside school, saying that it would be good for me to socialize and discover things that I might like. In hindsight, I do appreciate it, but I wasn’t made for Chinese school, piano lessons, or tennis, therefore, I didn’t last six months at either activity. These activities helped me a little bit on the socializing front, but I was no...

The fear of the ageing mind

Springtime has always been kind of daunting, but I am starting to understand what Hemingway used to see in it. You should always look forward to a new beginning and leave the past behind you. Having said that, I must admit that today I’m doing the complete opposite. I’m consumed by nostalgia in a very soothing and pleasant way. I remember feeling productive and at peace in London, probably because there were no commitments to make me feel guilty and never did I realise that I was, in fact, a very selfish person. Other people reflect you – that is true, but the people engagement used to always be for a short amount of time. I was never able to handle more than a little. I am now though and I’m not happy with the self-discovery that I’ve made. Do people still choose what they think they deserve? What do you think you really deserve? One scary thing about growing mentally and emotionally is that, at first, it doesn’t feel like you’ve grown in any way, but your new perception indicates all the learning for you. But with each new perception I feel like a part of me has died sometimes, as though I’ve lost touch with my imagination. It only comes back gradually when I write to the music that gives me enough warmth to be present. With autumn being my favourite I’ve always had the chance to simply dwell and reflect during it and I get ideas for writing. Things are coming to an end, and yet they need time for digestion. Another reason why I love it is that people start to get sick and stay inside, and I’m the only one out, or at least it seems so. Spring is more about spring cleaning and getting ready to launch. It’s a reminder to get started. Like the new book I’m supposed to be...

…because friends can’t review you

Writing became an important part of my life when I turned ten and started keeping a journal. It didn’t take long until fiction dominated my life, and I would spend a great number of my teenage years hiding in the bedroom, writing. There have been many attempted novels until after my bachelor degree. One of my short shorties made my tutor laugh so hard, he told me to develop it. My stories never really struck me as humorous, and it took me a while to see the black humour that made people laugh. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve read too much Bret Easton Ellis and Charles Bukowski, but somehow that short story became a chapter in my novel. You may call it dark – up till now none of my close friends have been able to give me a clear opinion on the themes and underlying meanings of the book. It’s like they’re too scared to talk to me about it, and yet it would mean a lot to me. I left it too late, but I’m seeking for professional critics/reviewers to review my book. I understand that this is how it’s supposed to be, as nothing can be any more objective than this. However, the thought of being misunderstood and torn to shreds is kind of daunting. But doesn’t this happen to every single writer? Better be torn to shreds than not get noticed at...