The Land of Conjurors

That was the story of A. when she wormed her way into the mud. Breathing all she could back and forth The air mixing with mud excited her,  and she was digging within again,  her twist and turn next began, like a sort of insect,  crawling up and down the tree, and sprawl her body free. A whirl she felt suddenly, curling her body tightly,  as if forming a shield in stasis, falling down to the web weaved by him. A. had a fallen pain at once, while he kept his quick pace at his high speed to where he moved wrapping A. up in no time. Another story triggers for A. has never been through. Hidden inside, again she is worming ups and down, back and forth and then exposes her fingers as the web has been broken through. That was A. transforming she prepared for nothing but motion indeed, like a sort of insect in need.

It is not the old-fashioned issue, but perhaps it is. Religion, no, I will say it is your belief that matters. The belief that causes the kernel problem to all of you. That was when you told me something let you down or even depressed, and you will cast them aside by relying them on God. I was sure I wasn't get it wrong. Or you might ask why I just didn't give it a shot to believe the God? Yes, I did. I gave my time when I was in college and turned down in time. Do you really believe that you can literally rely on God by carrying away those things that frustrate you? I doubt it very much. Your belief can make you feel better for sure, but if you get accustomed to rely on God when confronted with difficulties, God appears to become the responsible one who bears all the discard from the public. Nevertheless, it is not the problem that God bears those discard but you become irresponsible for what you are thinking. The reality is a mess, it is just the chaotic condition, as it alwa

These cold days I discover the boss in running the breakfast shop becoming more tender on his look. As I have been thinking, he used to treat the customers in a vulgar way of talk and bad look. Don't know if the contribution of the weather makes him look like this kind of way, he becomes powerless and fragile as he picked up the stuffs from the ground, being afraid of the stuff which may be blown in the chilly and strong wind.   That look, oh, god, horribly innocent, as if I had never seen him before.  A guy should have lied in prison before being released as far as I'm concerned. Passing by so many years, he has changed, yes, completely changed, his relatives were willing to help him out, setting up the breakfast shop for him in order to give him a right, regular and responsible position on his job for his regenerated life in the future. Perhaps he "has been" changing because I haven't been visiting them for a while. Well, their breakfast tasted not so delicious

A Taiwanese girl got accustomed to the life related to the Western style very much; however, she suffered the critics from other Taiwanese friends, saying that she cares for having fun with those foreigners who are from America or Europe. But she told me that those photos on Facebook were posted by the foreign friends. She was just tagged by those photos, that's all. She said why people merely take the appearance and superficial meaning on the way she does. It's pretty shallow, don't they think? It has been a trouble that if she comes with other Asian people whom come from Japan, Korea, China, Hong Kong, Philippines or even Taiwan...etc. Others won't take a look on her, even a slightest moment seems to cost much time on their own. My roomy and I listened to her situation and confront her with warm talking, giving her support at last, but who knows that she will have another suffering next time? Down to the slope in school, my roomy told me, "she shouldn't ha

When I have to think, I mean... to contemplate something, to meditate something, my favorite comfort food might be the food and beverage added with milk such as black tea, coffee, chocolate, papaya, or red bean soup etc. But I don't like drinking milk simply, it's weird. Perhaps milk enacts the role of mellow flavour which lies in the face of stability and balance mixed with some certain foods . So this kind of mix   somehow   soothes my anxietyafter having them while I’m   in   the middle  of accomplishing tough works. Particularly, it becomes my stimuli while struggling with my term paper which should be handed in urgency,... alright, in urgency, it seems not so serious that I need to use this word, but, you should know that, it is my extreme consciousness works out, not truly my expression, so be patient because I will express something revealed more insanity on my blog. Hahaha. Well, back to the milk, it's enough. In addition, sour foods for me taste really enjoyable,

After watching  Golden Gates , Pro. Lin points out that we all have been taught to be admire foreigners and their cultures especially in Western style. We wish to be loved by the oppressor somehow and uncounsciously appreciate their appearance, way of talk and "graceful" behavior. This is true, and I believe it as far as I'm concerned since I'm the one who wish to be like that way. So terrible, to learn English ability so hard ever since we were only children, facing the pressure every single day, to be anxious about the unsatisfied grades, etc. Who makes this rule anyway? Exactly, no one. And we are all eager to pursue the "dream" in our ideality. We thank for the oppressor by providing our broken English and they never would like to learn Chinese or other second language at all, showing their ignorance to the local culture instead of paying more attention to them. Consider this, what if there is another James Joyce in this world and writes about the same 

Brotherhood will not work on me. Because it decreases the soul in quest of our life, brotherhood should not keep it as one's character. Don't treat me like fool as if I were a common one since you'll gain nothing from me. And of course, I'll loath the way you think and behave. Yeah, I still believe this world would have something special, don't try to make peace and harmonious, and those are not true for the truth of art and literature which I truly believe. I still believe people are good at heart, which I mean people will support the things and figure that are not in the mainstream. I don't think there should be so many teachers in Taiwan, and I truly believe that there are some ways that I can explore, and I just do not found it at present since I am still seeking what I can do and what I really want to do.

If beat is inclined to subject to the musical structure or form, it may fall into the additional allocation in the sense of composing music. Contrary to the beat, heartbeat marks the sense of uncertainty in musical allocation since it breaks the rule of the musical song in general. For me, Heartbeat is more like a force in movement aiming to create a possible space, and it also unearths a space under water as listening to it developing itself with sudden appearance and disappearance. There are two parts attracting me in The xx's Coexist Brazil Live performance. Firstly, the procession of heartbeat from "Reunion" to "Sunset," which is supposed to be the linking in between, unfolds a sense of space in the live tour in Brazil. In Live, the heartbeat is beating from the middle to the end of "Reunion." This time it does not link the "Sunset" but "Far Nearer." The heartbeat is subtly increasing its intensity and ferocity step

It's ok. The little girl said to herself as if she could handle it all the time. Nothing big deal, truly. She had done all the things she could and read all the reading materials at hand. What could you expect from her during the time she prepared for her coming? You will not admit that there is something wrong with you. No, you won't. And you never did. The little girl immersed herself in the cold winter of forest covered by the thick snow. Blizzard comes, she is cold and coughing, but you never pay a visit or take a look at her for a while if passing by. No, you never do so. The ice may melt, you thought. And that's the way season circles around, don't panic, you said it briskly, as if the world is solely spinning around the tropical climes for your dwelling. She will adapt to the winter climate, sure thing. If she can barely cope with it, I wonder where she can go at present. The tone in you seems to be harmless. That is the way you look gentle all the time. Absorb i

She has been reluctant to see me ever since she traumatized me with her way of talk. She flinched when truly confronting with her dilemma between a sanguine spirit and her resentment at my wrongdoing. She could have changed the way she behaved. Is it anything that always make it clear and draw the very line of other? A great many things rely on the matter in between. Believe it or not. A loser becomes in her eyes, who can barely get rid of a frame in relation to her eyesight, just look at and overlook in some way of supervision. Perhaps it was the best way to distance me like the way she did today, suffocating, locking or even taunting me under the control of her mind. Say nothing of mine, to sound like a bird taken away its throat, as if continuously colliding with that invisible cage set up by unknown power as seeing the very person she prefers to. She seemed to feel annoyed when seeing me today because I asked her for having a meeting with me if she was available these days or not.

I have read "Sure Thing" written by David Ives and then watched two clips of this play on Youtube. For me, it is such a cool play, and I love it very much. Moreover this play reminds me of a series of "Before," a film which two would-be lovers but seemingly never-ending chat from the beginning to the end. To make a comparison of both plays might be possible I suppose. In a series of "Before," Jesse and Celine are like two lovers who coincidentally met together on train and chat with each other cheerfully, and then they promise to meet again ten years later within a day. In sum, this series of film basically dates from the time when lovers met and then encounter with different kinds of scenery, people and events one by one. They keep moving their steps as chatting with each other. There will be their different perspectives from both as well as harmony with each other; they even have spark while interacting with each other. Nevertheless, the time in this s

I am left behind. Things could have swerved to the unexpected ways. I should be whinging back and forth, and I know I can never change the truth it lies. It seems that I have no one to rely on, truly. And you could cunningly ignore me in such an invisible way. Something behind that I have ever tasted waits for me to tear apart my heart. I know I shall meet my fate, no sooner will I fade away. As you might call me anywhere and be with you anytime, you still work on your very job for sure. What about me? Like the one to be taunted and be made fun of for the uncertain aim of research subject. Chill out, you may say. This is not the end of the world. But how could I be mute with whom you prepare for acceptance of some new guests. Maybe that's the way I hate what relationship is built, and you may treat me like the one who was discarded for a long time while expecting someone rescues me in a day light. No, you could never be that one in the future. I believe that there is no turning bac

It's so hard to find a certain category of research for me. Some youngsters in their colleges seem to go well. Is it the problem that I have no true interest? I doubt it. Or I may have little patience compared with them. Oh god I wish I could have some certainty of knowing what my real research inclination is. To have this research inclination will help your studies go more steady by a sort of momentum in continuous progress. Once you have found it, it is not a long way or waste to become a wanderlust in roaming around. Or, maybe I just get stuck, in a stagnant pool. I can barely slide my whole body in this pool, a trap in the water with no other way to turn to, waiting to be drawn in this stagnant pool.

Tomorrow will be the first formal mealtime in Tasty. But, I actually a bit panic for sitting there and talk nothing special. Besides, there is a stranger invited coming over to have the lunch with us. It is quite peculiar that my adviser would invite him as a special guest, well, for me, especially. But I don't know why, I just feel nervous, anxious and panic all day long. Maybe I should think about the bright side and stop immersing myself in negation of feeling sluggish and distraught for myself. And maybe, to be comic at times during the meal, like typical English men mostly. I may mock at myself and feel comfortable with that. Yes, why not give it a try? Every time I meet my adviser, I would pretend to be quite easy and calm; still, the fear inside me pounds every time like one holding a hammer and then chopping my chest with my inmost part. I walk in the fringe of its blunt blade and sweat heavily, perilously in which I stand, while I remain composed through opening my mouth,

No agreement at all, truly. But some people often ask for it and I have no clue why they insist on it. I used to be the one like that. Studies make me change, perhaps. I will not blame the one I used to be but leave them something to them to ponder if they wish to. At this current time, we are not to discuss the specialties in animal area but the common situation based on the world most people live. How can I say about animals or other species? Lots of them have specialties and potentials, however this doesn't mean they live with human lives as well. As human, we certainly do not impose our law, produced by human, to any living individuals. As one might ask, "what if those animals can talk like human and claim their copyright for their works?" First of all, make sure the animals can "really" talk like human, otherwise it is nothing to discuss on it. Next, copyright roughly means that you merely take someone's words, artworks or other things created by the au

As alone as I head for somewhere on the street step by step while my foot no longer feel a kind of weight.  Cold as it is while desolate it becomes and fits my mind in wider tolerance. Open the door, as if you were right there: Creams of the crop within We are the one to be chosen The stamen stored claims to begin in a way of not being forsaken. Rain as much as you can withered in no time Your hug makes me warm, while the rain wipes  the look I feel no alarm. To feel you but not to be felt. Only do you tell will you be told. Back to the street I am be- coming... It is neither  rabidity  nor normality but to question me: Am I the  deceased or the living?

The semester almost approaches. There are a great many tasks to be done and achieved. Time, flying so slowly but somehow swiftly, makes a breakthrough during the process of my thesis writing and the cultivation of my English abilities. Hard to explain, truly. Who may presage the problems in terms of academic way of this gigantic change? I surely thanks my adviser for everything in me for whomever she shows consideration. At this age of mine, lots of problems formed emerge in conflict with my personality, angel and demon, no longer accompany naivete, but stir by themselves to be merged in common.

The meeting with my adviser is next week, and I feel a bit nervous. Lots of anxiety seem to overwhelm my mind, especially the idea of my thesis for writing the MA paper. Hoping for writing a well paper, I pay more attention to some of the theoretical notions purported by Deleuze and Guattari. Also, the poem is quite abstract and sometimes it is not very easy to grasp its meaning between the lines. Fear lurks behind my mind and it can hardly be controlled immediately. Perhaps I am too anxious to think about my future for writing the paper. And a bit rush that I wish it can be done as soon as possible in the period of one year of the deadline. But most importantly, to write something I truly am interested in shows the first need to motivate my continuous writings. I hope this paper will be my first book and certainly I'll cherish it for the process of writing and its accomplishment. Just keep my finger crossed.

Desolation erodes me, just don't want any second accidents happen in Taiwan, truly, especially in my hometown. Fortunately, I got new life of Tame Impala to listen to, which will make me move on my step. After listening to "Mind Mischief," I suppose to click its live version. To my amazement, the live version gives the audiences a distinctive taste, unlike the complete lyrics to be sung, it merely is to be given the chorus part in singing by the vocalist and the rest of the melody presented. Perhaps the recorded one has something to do with the synthetic chord in artificial technique which I hardly know, but more surprise is that the vocalist plays the riff by singing the chorus in every live version of this song, which means it seems to be re-glaze the original one, and there is a small attempt to perform the same song as play it by the vocalist's ear. He makes the song a new one even in those live versions. Quite fascinating! Another thing is that I come across a

That was when you told me not to complicate the matters as such. To deal with it, or not to deal with it, that is the problem. I would always be glad to confront it without your knowing. Perhaps that's my deep personality, too old to wind the ways. But I am not that old actually, not at all. I used to admire how I could be winding as spiraling my thoughts in secrecy; however, it seemed  that you fail me to do so. You made me question myself, my ability and my train of thought. To lift myself to some sort of extremity, I immerse myself in some kind of fantasy that is barely known by others. Perhaps it was my personality that failed, truly. But I am not her since she is your type. You made it to be her without checking how others were feeling at the moment. If you could say so, I tried to hide the secret from R.

Recently I have fallen into a colossal abyss provided by a hidden change for me. On such critical circumstance that mingles with personal depression, I still make my own decision and then choose the course of Post-colonialism and Chaucer. Both courses are not my favorites, not to mention my profession in Western Literature. However, I would like to give it a shot since I am about to start a new page of booming literature from the authors of Malaysia, Algeria, and some other less known countries. To be frank, I have no background and such similar experiences of post-colonial conscious or its affect. Nevertheless, my country has been colonized by Japan before. Sometimes I still can sense the residual of colonial consciousness from my grandparents, which they often memorize how Japanese treat them in terms of the public security, way of life and their livelihood. However, I think the most essential thing might be the language in my country since it is actually influenced by Japanese. And

Today I went to The Wall in Kaohsiung city and found out a great many artworks right there. The artworks laid there as if the audience could get closer to them as touch the artworks without any doubts. By the way, those artworks were presented in a bizarre visual display on each indeterminate position in the field of The Wall. And I saw some children attempt to climb up the artworks as if it was their gigantic toys and their anonymous new friends. Those children on the certain artworks laughing merrily started to crawl it to and fro, playing with other kids with joyful mood. It occurred to me that those artworks are like the amusement facilities in McDonald or in KFC. Perhaps it is right, postmodernism should be displayed in this kind of way as if the distance of its artworks may get closer to the audiences more than merely exhibit right there. Still, it does not make me feel agog while watching the scene at the moment. Something may hardly expressed right from my mind since there was