4/7

I picked up a novel called Tailoring the Early Tang Dynasty - I've always been amazed by the degree to which translated Chinese can seem stupid in English - I spent 3 days or 4 reading it. But upon finishing slightly more than 50% of the book, I was thoroughly irritated by the blatant chauvinism that seems so natural among the pages. And after that, I discovered myself in the usual stalemate of having nothing to read. I must confess, however, it is with difficulty that I obtained an EPUB copy of Taipei by Tao Lin - its ultra-high resolution self-consciousness just doesn't fit me.

And the new domain, which I had spent $29.99/yr. to purchase, is rife with various name server errors that are plainly impossible to tackle. Luckily I managed to set it up running. To a minimalist like me, the dot co suffix is much more amicable than is the dot com. I find it quite enjoyable to write something down. Not necessarily in the language of literature, not necessarily eloquent or even logic, the act is a pleasure unto itself. I, out of sympathy, recommended blogging to a girl suffering from anxiety and break-up. I suggested that she sum up things at the end of each day to discover what's truly important. She declined with a bizarre persistence to be the girlfriend of some guy who already has one. It's not easy for me not to brand her insane. It just adds up to my conviction that female, or more specifically females without an education in feminism, is intrinsically prone to unreasonable deeds. I once wrote on a piece of draft paper at high school that the unresponsiveness to a message is the utmost form of impertinence in the Information Age. And I haven't replied to her last message. Am I self-aware? Am I guilty? Am I willing to change? Of course yeah, but eventually I told myself that the world is inexorable and sometimes not to wish is not to be disillusioned.

The Tomb Sweeping Day is postponed at my grandma's. Me, papa, niece who's already 14, aunt, uncle, uncle's girlfriend, sister went to a platform half way to the top of Hui Hill and held a memorial ceremony for my long dead grandfather. My father kept advertising how good granny was to me, and I nodded and wondered if I truly remembered anything. I told my grandfather, hey, buddy, take care on your road to heaven. Should the after-world exists, he will have definitely finished the journey by the time I uttered those equivocal and comical words. No one seems to have noticed that there was a sarcasm in my speech. If when burnt papers function as money, if when holding the ceremony our sentiments are sincere, why I've never been to the tombs of my great grandma? Not to mention the ancestors.

And yet again I doubted that I might be having heart problems. I went to the 2nd People's Hospital only to be informed that their ultra-sonic equipment operator was having a 3 day vacation. And at the People Hospital, I was told of the same thing. My mother doesn't appear to have the vaguest knowledge of how serious heart problems can be and become. They complaint relentlessly that I'm using too much money for the ultimately moot health inspection. In actuality her ideology is correct. What's the purpose of medication examination if our life is so feeble? And finding a beautiful girl and let her pass into her obscurity is no different from making her my wife, and witnessing her pass into my obscurity.

I found on the internet that Prozac might be on long-term potency in addressing my problem. I decided to pick it up tomorrow. I wanted to end the piece by "May God bless my dream" and in light of the obvious failure of my last prayer, I'm stopping it. And, hey God, I don't want to die and I'd like to exchange everything got the fulfillment of that wish.