As the tradition goes, it will rain incessantly during the Dragon Boat Festival. Indeed, it seems there is a big hole in the sky and pouring rain coming down from that hole in these couple of weeks. The fields are submerged and the Pearl River has risen to the brim of the curb.
Because I didn’t write much in the past week. I start to write the second entry of the day. Don’t know what to say except telling you that my friends’ replies to my newsletter are the most exciting part of my life. I gotta work hard for two mags at the same time. All of a sudden, I feel the heavy obligation on my shoulders. Sometimes when I looked back the issues in which have my effort, I felt a sense of accomplishment but at the same time, I felt lost. When my friend told me she would look for jobs in UK after graduation, my disappointment for my future grows. Again, if only…
Yesterday, I read an article about the famous pianist Lang Lang. His father wanted to be an musician to travel around the world while the mother wanted to be a professional dancer. They placed their hope on their only son. Now I am sure they’ve realized their dreams because of the great success of their son. I don’t think I can train myself to be a musician to travel around the world. (Well, I did think about that years ago when I studied Polynisian dance.) The reality tells me that I am a terrible guitar player as well as a dancer. Haha…
I don’t know what I can do beside editing mags. When I was at a friend’s party, I saw everyone had a talent to sing or dance or entertain people to laugh out loud. But I can do none. I guess that’s one of the major reasons why I couldn’t get into the final of the city’s speech contest because I wasn’t able to perform on the stage except speaking English. When I told an acquaintance one of my hobbies was collecting stamps and postcards and coins, he was shocked and probably thought what a nerd he was talking to. LOL
On Drag Boat Festival, I’ve thought a lot in my little meditation corner. I want to write down how I feel to be the owner of an apartment for the first time–sadly, I had no feeling except knowing dad has been busy running around for the paper work for me. I want to write down how I feel after working for the company for a year–sadly, life is so monotone that I don’t know where to begin with. I want to write down my goals that I wanna accomplish in 2006–sadly, the paper is still blank after sitting for a whole morning to think. I wanna stop writing, so nobody will know what I am thinking and doing and nobody will give a damn about me. However, writing has become the only way for me to communicate with myself.
Am I silly? Yes I am, silly enough to have a whim to jump into Pearl River and let water bury me for ever… Oh yes, I forgot to mention that the British editor in our company will quit his job by mid-June. How come all familiar people are leaving me one after another? Weird.