Career plonking

Im willing to build my career from solid rock bottom. I dont want a fast but superfluous job that does nothing in the long term.
But what kind of career do i want?
Why do I want to do a PhD?
To train my skills in writing and researching and thinking, skills i will need for my fantasy world building and writing later on.
To buy more time and for my creative endeavour which i dont want to put under any pressure of deadlines, sales or audience, yet. For me to develop my own style.
To earn some chances to travel and learn about different people and the world. To contribute to my long term database of life.
For status, people's approval and a job. I need these basics for my creative life later on.
I dont mind hard work. Actually i think i thrive in hard work. I accept the challenge of difficult people and unfamiliar places. Eventually they will all add to my inventory of life.

Hoarding

I collect. Ok, I hoard. I just want to be surrounded by stuffs I like. And get rid of all the rest.

Family is a trap

Im the girl who hides away her most intimate and authentic side from her family. Who thinks of family as a trap confining her to old ideas and the exaggerated feat of the outside world. Family is her responsibility, heavy on the shoulders but light in the heart. She acts, even at home. She doesnt know when to be herself, to whom she can be herself.
Steve jobs: connect the dots, dont waste ur time living others' lives, death clears out the old to make space for the new, stay hungry and foolish.
Maybe its like what Thandia Newton said: your self keeps changing, you dont need it in order to understand others. This reminds me of benjamin button: he doesnt think about himself that much: he thinks about people and jobs.
I also want to delve into the psyche of someone different, to see the world from another pair of eyes, to feel the differences in thoughts and emotions. I want to really know someone, intimately, thoroughly.

突然想玩文字游戏

不只是一字之差的文字游戏，还是有点可以琢磨的地方。
胸口摸得着的尺寸叫胸围，
胸口摸不到的尺寸叫胸襟；
眼睛看得到的地方叫视线，
眼睛看不到的地方叫视野；
眉毛皱得出的形状叫情绪，
眉毛皱不出的形状叫情感；
耳朵听得到的动静是声音，
耳朵听不到的动静是声誉；
鼻子闻得到的味道叫气味，
鼻子闻不到的味道叫气息；
嘴里说得出来的话叫内容，
嘴里说不出来的话叫内涵；
脸上看得出的表情叫气色，
脸上看不出的表情叫气魄；
掌纹看得出的线条是命理，
掌纹看不出的线条是命运；
脚下走得到的距离叫梦想，
脚下走不到的距离叫幻想；
背后摸得到的硬度叫脊椎，
背后摸不到的硬度叫脊梁；
脑袋测得出的东西叫智商，
脑袋测不出的东西叫智慧；
手比划出来的动作叫手势，
手比划不出的动作叫手段；
头发遮得住的地方叫刘海，
头发遮不了的地方叫脑海；
额头上看得出来的是皱纹，
额头上看不出来的是岁月；
喉咙吞得掉的东西是口水，
喉咙吞不掉的东西是口碑；
舌尖尝得出的东西是味道，
舌尖尝不出的东西是味口；
心里测得出的律动是心跳，
心里测不出的律动是心绪；
证件上印出来的叫做文凭，
证件上印不出来的叫文化；
看得见的自大表情叫傲气，
看不见的自尊底线叫傲骨；
温度计量得出来的叫温度，
温度计量不出来的叫温暖；
蜡烛点得燃的数字叫岁数，
蜡烛点不燃的数字叫岁月；
还能尝得到的味道叫回味，
已经尝不到的味道叫回忆；
且转且评的是微信，
不转不评的是微笑。
Created with Werdsmith.

Water overload

He opens the door and water pours out. The room is submerged in water. The water opens a path for him. Aroma is practicing.

Happiness trap

I don't want to fall into the happiness trap laid out for young women. I'd rather be alone than waiting for someone to make me happy. I want to break free from the confinement of womanhood to prove that you can be a woman and be great. There is no need to bow to the current status quo especially when I don't agree with it. Don't force me into convention.

Scared of attachment

To be honest, im scared of being in a relationship. Even though i dream of one, that never includes me as who i am. I just put on someone else's identity and enjoy being him or her for a while. Just a while, and then i can switch back to being the solitary me. Yes, i am slippery like a true aquarius or even gemini, but i also understand the meaning of relationship like a stable capricorn would. But if my choices define who i am, then i am an aquarian through and through.

Relax, dear me!

Yes i am flighty, slippery, and unpredictable. But so what? I need those moments of freedom so that I can produce moments of sharp critical intellect that synchronizes all accounts, that cancels out emotional, irrational thoughts to polish high-quality thinking. I need my moments of freedom and my moments of wisdom. I need that balance to remind myself that I'm not limited to one path, that I am truly in control of how I want to live my life.

If I had told you....

If I had told u that I missed you there and then, I would have been unable to go again.

But I have to go again, I'm on this path already, I won't quit. Quitting makes it all meaningless.

Dont think you can force me!

I hate people who think that they can force me. Who cannot look past my easy-going flighty demeanor to see the silent fighter within. Who think they are helping me by pushing me but in fact they are in my way creating more obstacles. The more they push the stronger my inner darkness grow. The more silent I become the colder the fighter in me hardens. People interpret my silence as humiliation. Im glad i can keep the danger within. The fighter cannot come out too soon.

My strengths

I can think. I can conjure a sharp argument with easy effort. I can maintain a debate with sustained arguments. I can express a highly complex view with room for adjustment. I am often aware of the counter argument to my own argument, and I can prepare to protect my argument. My use of the English language in oral and written communication is concise and flexible, sometimes with an artistic flair if necessary.

Late night versing

Secrets are told to be revealed

Love is shared to grow

Promises are broken to hurt

Drama are played to feel

Prone to Theatrics

J and I are masters of drama. 

"....when the pieces don't fit anymore..."

J, I miss you. I miss you a lot.

On your blog you sometimes confess your feelings to this S, that C. And you hope they will feel the same way too.

How endearing.

J.

Your loneliness hurts me.
Why can't I fill up your emptiness?

You are the drive that ties me to this page, although you don't know.

I wonder when should I let you know?
I always think the people I like deserve to know that I like them. They deserve the warm feelings and self-esteem brought about by affection from somebody else. They deserve it.
But I've always spoken from the position of someone who holds onto her secret feelings for as long as she feels like. Until it gets too big and she has to say it out to let it die and leave her alone.

Emotional, melancholic, sentimental, that's my blog, that's your blog, too.
Yet who are we in real life? I'm rational, intellectual, even pragmatic, strong and sometimes playful.
You're nice, artistic,  melancholic, popular and philosophical.

We......do we match? Is that chemistry I've felt nothing more than one of my endless illusions?
Reading your blog is like reading my diary. That melancholy, that pondering, that emotional fling.

Why, J?
Why can't I reach you?
Why is there a glass door, a barrier that keeps me here, right here, but my right hand tries to reach out, my left hand tries to grope at nothingness, that cold smooth glass surface under which my feelings will be cremated.

Why, J?
Help? Help me reach you. Help me let this feeling out to you, this is purely for you, J!

But, should I tell you in the first place? Should I not?

A cultural irony

I don't want to be limited by my cultural background. Vietnamese stick to their own cultural barrier, making excuses like cultural tradition and customs to stick to their own kind and never improve. I hate that kind of thinking. I vehemently oppose it.

But isn't it fair? Why is English progressive and Vietnamese regressive? Isn't each cultural perspecti ve deserve its own credit? Each has something wise to teach to the world, no matter how skewed the world is in its choice of information channels. Shouldn't I be a champion of the under-represented because I happen to have managed to get out of this den to the greater world out there?

But, it's hard for me. It's hard. There is this prejudice in me, against my own culture, my own heritage. I've fought for so long to get out of its grip. I've denied its influence on me. A year ago I might not even consider it worth studying (which, in my own terms, is a big insult). I am ironic. I criticise global unfairness, and yet I'm enthralled by the vast scale of the winners, and I ignore the losers. I should be on the side of the weaker, encouraging and empowering them, but instead I've sought to identify with the stronger. I am ironic, and I am hypocritical.

Well, aren't we all?

七夕快到了，我对月老说

七夕快到了，我对月老说：我希望和我喜欢的人永远在一起。月老说：只能四天.我说好：春天夏天秋天冬天。月老说：只能三天。我说好：昨天今天明天。月老说：只能两天.我说：白天黑天。月老说：就一天.我说好：月老茫然问：要哪一天？我说：每一天。

Source: Unknown

Minor thesis

"The point of the minor thesis is just to show that you are able to carry out your own quality research. Dont try to be clever and dont pick an interesting topic that is hard to write about." ...even when that topic intrigues you? Nope.

Why belittle your own work like this? Why not write sth that intrigues people even though its hard? Why not think that the thesis is not just about you and for you; it's also for others to read and understand as well?

Is the thesis just a step towards your phd scholarship, or is it touching upon important things?

Why cant it be both?