He comes back when he needs a friend, with that leer and knowing look and manner of speech. He has said that he hates you and needs 10 years to heal. He’s bitter against you. He has intentions on taking advantage of you and probably in many moments doesn’t feel guilt for it. He might bring up the past and your tenderness towards him in the past. Do not feel guilty about the tenderness or wildness at the heat of the moment; instead take it as a matter of fact that tenderness or wildness will not continue. And he hurt Jo.

It is amazing that how at one lift of the head, I break free of a sceance-like mood; depressing thoughts, of how I do not fit into my sponsoring organisation's environs, due to my disinterest in research or display of inhibitively dangerous social idiocy or others, can't think independently when expts fails, have no drive to carry out new ones, am writing this instead, etc, are transformed into encouraging ones that make life bearable - thatI'm really fostering nice and comfortable relationships in my company, that I do enjoy reading and highlighting scientific articles, that activities up next for me (next minute, next day, next Monday) to perform are interesting and meaningful and satisfying, and that I'll continue to write this, nicely conclude it.

Complainers of Singapore complain about Singapore as a whole. It's "Singapore is too..." or "Singapore is so...", never bothering to break the poor entity "Singapore" down to particular "diseased" components, nor to coin symbols to represent those components. So Singapore doesn't have its "George Bush", "Bill Gates", etc. But it's indeed too small to be not invoked by its own name. If you put George Bush and Bill Gates both in Singapore they might meet each other several times a day (both out of geography and necessity, that is, since they are very likely to associate with each other in Singapore). Aside from stale examples, what about "Monaco is too..." or "Monaco is so..."? Can do with an example of a Monegasque complaint.

Come to think of it, the Chinese has no problem of being referred to with connotations of collective characteristics. Did the unifying philosophy really work so well? Language, lethargy, self-centredness (it's the middle kingdom after all), greed, all are preserved. Preserved by non-exertion and non-recognition of individuality. Or maybe the notion of a typical Chinese is no longer valid. But I'm not talking about typicality, I think. You can talk of a typical Singaporean as easily as a typical American. So there's nothing wrong with being able to describe a typical Chinese.

Really need re-learn Chinese. Does reading help?

Had really scary dream last night. It was about a mother and a daughter. The mother was like my mother. The daughter was a little girl though. They were on TV and I watched while packing up a series of thin booklets into boxes as though back in those last stolen days at 907. Those booklets were wads of the green saving coupons taken for free from outside Kaplan's along College Ave. But they were white instead of green. On the TV the little girl was watching TV, which showed a series of horrifying, disconnected images that widened her black eyes. The mum came to sit with her on a couch and carrying a white box. She was packing thin, white booklets amongst other stuff and I forgot if she said anything to her daughter. The black-eyed girl picked up a booklet, which turned green, and flipped through it. Then she looked up and shrieked, "They're are from here!" Now it would have been a really nice dream if I could only remember what those broken images signify and how they form a mystery capable of being satisfactorily solved. But the point of dreams and suppressions are that you are made not to remember them. Could I have suffered weird fantastic trauma with those green savers? Food and car repair. Can't remember that either.

I realised how hard it is to resist the temptation to be restless and attraction for the weird. On reflection though, when the weird and the sad get too candid, they are back to human. The strategy is to judge, or to think about JP. The former I'm bad at from the beginning and yet hesitate to learn about. As for the latter, at this moment I'm immensely infuriated by his getting book prize for German studies, and that the Italian department didn't offer any. Oh how helpless it is with the love of a language! When you can't practise it anymore and are not even sure if all that's associated is interesting and never loathesome.

Received trans-pacific parking ticket from Cornell yesterday. When mum asked what that was, I told her it was a notice about a newly-implemented luxury bus service between NYC and Ithaca for Cornell students. Deceit is necessity for rational compromise. What one should do is to develop deceitful strategies without moving a hair. It's ironic that the family is the first place to practice the grownups' farce, where it's supposed to be the place where you remain a kid and get shelter. Or is it that deceit in the family makes one feel guilty for being faky to other people, when one shouldn't have? It's all rather confusing. Some stuff I read off internet:

"The next time something does not go the way you wanted it to, or just when you are feeling low, ask yourself how old you are feeling. What you might find is that you are feeling like a bad little girl, a bad little boy, and that you must have done something wrong because it feels like you are being punished.
Just because it feels like you are being punished does not mean that is the Truth."

Sounds like something I'd tell Jo if I'm still talking to her. It further says emotional energy/ truths are real but not facts. Just reactions from a childish self. So it all involves stepping out of the child into the adult. What if that's prevented by your own mum?

"...the risk of freedom must be exactly proportional to its potential for good. If I have the freedom to love one person only, I have the freedom to hurt one person only. If I have the freedom to love them a little, I have the freedom to hurt them a little. If I can love them a great deal,...

I can understand why ...this as "bad management," and perhaps it would be if there were some other way of doing things. But I don't believe there is. In my view the proportionality between the possibilities of good and evil inherent in freedom is what's called a metaphysical truth. It's like the three sides of a triangle. If you have freedom, you have to have this risk." - Letters from a Skeptic

Personally I believe this is getting nowhere. There ought to be some sense in basic assumptions to begin with. Statements like "I don't believe there is" (making allowance for a personal letter) are not support for the nature of the "metaphysical truth". Arguments like the three sides of a triangle are just too random.

It's true that the perspective determines a lot of things already. I'm not reading it in any remotely Christian way. I'm reading it the scientific way, Chinese way (where brandishing of the term "love" is deemed shameful), historic way, none of which will bring me to concurrence with this writer, whom I imagine to be a thin, long-faced middle-aged American with balding top (don't ask me why) and whom I'm already beginning to dislike.

"...the God whom the Bible talks about, and whom Jesus Christ incarnates, is a God of love, and this entails that He is a God of freedom, for you cannot have love without freedom. ... ultimately, all evil in the world comes from free wills other than God. What God wills and does is always good. Whatever is not good has its origin from someone or something other than God."
- Dr. Gregory A. Boyd; Edward K. Boyd, Letters from a Skeptic

A colleague lent me this book because I have been asking him questions of Christianity. This act, unbeknownst to him, really arose from having nothing to do at work and consequently performing miscellaneous googling and reading. And it is really the historicity of the bible that I'm interested in, so that's a much less spiritual than intellectual perspective from the very beginning. I'd like to study the bible, but am not ready to build trustful relationships with no one. I have my hands full with mum alone.

I'm glad that reading the first exchange in the book did not cause the usuall automatic aversion I feel towards any direct address of God as if he exists. Maybe it's due to subconsciously changing attitude out of politeness for other people who took trouble to lend you books. If you really want to think of him (God, not colleague) as a warm, benign grandpa who will not laugh at your problems, he can be quite endearing. BL has said that a way to treat God is to be his pet. That is understandable to me now, but pets need to be with their masters or they grow violent. The lack of physical contact is compensated by earthly means and concepts: people, gatherings, care, imagination (? or fantasy??) etc. I can't reconcile spiritual and earthly existence still. I think one day I will go be a nun. And that's not even Christian.

(I get slightly jealous in a scared sort of way when someone is referred as a "very spiritual person". It shows my desire to be out of this world. But on second examination it's really a desire to be "above" this world because I'm after all examining and learning as though hunger-struck all notions and significances of this world. It's power struggle for knowledge, with unknown people for no clear purpose except to satiate arrogance, or esteem of self in the guise of arrogance.)

Back to the quote. New idea (to me) here is that one cannot love without free will. If we act completely according to others' plans, then it's others who are responsible for the evil or good that we do. It is not so, therefore evil-doers take responsibility for the evils they do; God doesn't. Do we take "responsibility" for the love and good deeds we effect? Not that either. God takes the credit, for he willed it. He only wills good; and so all good is willed by him. Is there only will or is it followed by choice? Which is more important? Since we can't love without free will, then choice seems to be the deciding factor. God's will AND free will. And on top of that I guess God gave the free will. And so? All logic and philosophy still.

Going to lab now to take spectra of a failed reaction mixture to see if the failure had been complete.

Four main branches of western philosophy:
1. metaphysics
(a) ontology (what exists/is real and what doesn't/isn't)
2. epistemology
3. logic
4. axiology (value theory)
(a) moral philosophy
(b) aesthetics

If happiness of the past is a feeling of satisfaction of satisfaction, contentment, pride and serenity, no wonder unhappiness of the past is about a sense of regret, "if onlys", nostalgia, wanting to get back. Not to mention bitterness, revenge, etc.

I think the reason why research makes me so uneasy is the huge use of resources to produce no immediately tangible results. It really takes a lot of courage to continue living in this manner and deluding self to thinking that am doing something useful. Wait, it's not delusion; just lack of far sight that I can't see the useful thing in future. But even for a near-sighted person, not sure which profession is considered directly useful. Education? Literature? Charity? Those things are supposed to be built on pure "values and ideals" and are risky to maintain; one wrong step and the public confidence goes awry. Like towards Korean leadership. It seems as though research is still the best way out. Analogous to a scientist knowing art being better than an artist knowing science. Research is not all about "making money" (all about "spending money" is more like it at first glance); and at the same time puts more rational expectations on the humanity (rational expectation in terms of less emotional exploitation).

Anyway...... the best way out is to stop thinking.

Urrgh.. writing is becoming a chore. Stale. It's the result of writing about the same things again and again.

Googly, the word "metaphysics" means:
- the philosophical study of being and knowing
- a branch of philosophy, and related to the natural sciences, like physics, psychology and the biology of the brain; and also to mysticism, religion, and other spiritual subjects. It is notoriously difficult to define, but for purposes of briefly introducing it, it can be identified as the study of any of the most fundamental concepts and beliefs about the basic nature of reality, on which many other concepts and beliefs rest
- a branch of philosophy involved with examining and discussing the ultimate nature of reality...Aristotelian writings that came after the physics section; hence, metaphysics.
- the study of the fundamental nature of being and reality; supposedly distinct from physics, as it attempts to consider issues concerning the existence and nature of non-physical entities, or the nature of being and reality as such (in itself)
- a field of abstract thought and philosophy about topics not on the concrete or physical level of understanding. This includes subjects like existence, the soul, being, the supernatural, astral travel and psychicism.
- that which is beyond the known laws of physics.

I remember the freshman writing seminar I took in the second semester. The notes I took in that class are, as others, crossing the Pacific Ocean. A Jewish girl with bold and attractive features talked of "metaphysics" as if she takes it off the shelves of Wegman's on a weekly basis. In those days of feeble English abilities, and hiding within my aunt's bulky red down jacket due to utter terror and dread of the cold, I couldn't even get know of her name. Knew that she was friend with a Chinese guy called Greg, who turned out to be gay, and saw her several times on campus, once with bf and once without.

It's my friend's birthday tomorrow. Regarding the trait of forgetting friends' birthdays that friend is similar to me. But it's better not to assume that she doesn't mind her own birthday forgotten as well. There's always a tendency of forgetting your own birthday for dramatic satiation of reminding others of it like a tragic heroine. Except that this kind of satiation is more often than not replaced by a sense of idiocy for self. Not made up for tragic heroine. At best a drunken biography-composing Bridget Jones.

Failure

The dissipation of initial fear for research, a consequence of plunging right into the profession, is but an essential phase to save my own neck. Now I have to carry on. I can't say I haven't learnt. One most important fact about research is that there'd be more failures than successes. It's crucial not to get too happy about having started a reaction cooking after deriving self-satisfaction for following procedures meticulously with remarkable experimental expertise (Fluster? Clumsiness? Those are for theatrical effects. If no one else is watching, only panic is left and you may cry in peace). Plant design took a whole semester to develop a half-cooked feasibility phase. It's likely that developing a set of lab experimental methodology is equally frustrating. So there's nothing to be alarmed about not getting reactions to work. The next step: take a deep breathe and think, why the hell doesn't it work? There comes the part that may distinguish a good specimen of researcher from a fraudulent one (like me(?)). Looks like I haven't jumped the hurdle yet. By the way, I still can't be convinced that research is a meaningful endeavour. (Oops my apologies but I don't mean what you mean, Sir. I'm all for philosophy and not for economy. And I'm too tired to explain it down here at the end of a day on which reactions don't work)

Was playing games, which contributed to tiredness, previous to finding out that reaction didn't work. That, coupled with a phone call attack from an IA girl under Ef, could have resulted in present sour temples, tongue-biting inclinations and a revival of imposter syndromes. I realise that growing up involves hiding away parts of you that are not ready for the public. But maybe that's not to be done too excessively lest there's left not a bit of you that can face the world. Again, it's a question of balance. (Now let me get back to this electron balance of the H2O2-FeSO4 redox system)

Currently undergoing Cornell webmail withdrawal symptoms. Can't believe something else is robbed of me just like this. Subscribed to cellphone plan yesterday and am in possession of first own line in Singapore. Got into contact with erhu teacher but strangely fearing her ever friendly and young tone. In general sound like (me, not erhu teacher) an incoherent, all-agreeing Goody-Goody who casts nervous glances and is own-behaviour conscious. Principle problem in life is timidity for anticipation of pleasure and plenty of foreboding and regret for losses. Timidity results in lack and dismissal of pleasure.

Can't believe I can just go on writing like this. Sounds like a different self. The reason find this writing style effective is that am like Bridget Jones in many occasions and her writing style is the most self-consolatory by far (or she wouldn't have gone on writing effortlessly).

Ha ha ha. Had fantastic dream last night and forgot cleanly who I dreamt of until I walked towards lab this morning. There was my supervisor leading me up and down some lift, which was somehow transparent and looked out to a Chinese water-colour painting landscape (coloured, not black and white). The lift stopped at the facade of some building, where sat a Caucasian on some flat steps and who beamed on us. We (Caucasian and I, minus supervisor) went to my house, but my mum was being hostile and shut herself in the bedroom. The living room was blinding white and armchairs were draped with white cloth. We sat there in the manner of Su You Peng and Chae Lin on the bank of Eigene and he threw his arms around me. And while I was passing by one of the offices on my way to lab this morning, who should I see but him who was in my dream, standing by the printing/scanning/photocopying machine, wearing bright red and shoulder squared as usual, walking in the manner of a lumbering animal, the German researcher in the fine chemicals synthesis lab.

Am in a dangerous mood today. From lack of sleep due to hunger and abdominal pain. Need to talk really carefully. Better not to talk at all. Stress management and self-empowerment skills are too complicated to be exercised when light-headed and oily-skinned after bus trip on a blindingly sunny morning. Hope that will get news from erhu teacher soon. Thinking about erhu evoked my mood last night, in which everything and everybody was beautiful and am a capable, young, fresh and innocent person. Which is kinda opposite to what's going on now. Dangerously close, anyway. Must believe that erhu teacher will reply. Am going to finish whatever i've started. Am going to clear up messes and fill up holes. Am writing like Bridget Jones. Another result of a morning like this: danger of potential regret is great.

List (to be continued at the next moon)

When others profess in knowledge that you do not know, try to suppress the feeling of resentment.

When others make a critical remark, try to suppress that weak laugh resembling mum so much. Do not grit teeth, tighten the temples, act as if you are taking it lightly and then cope with it afterwards by forgetting that criticism (the “Head Flying Off” or “Wall In” imaginatory coping mechanism). Instead, breathe freely, admit that you have the problem and tell yourself (not out loud) this fact: “In truth, this does not matter.” It is a feeling of melting into warm water, where hurt is absent and it’s easy to believe in goodwill.

Do not make comments that will be contradicted for sure. Do not express real anxieties in the hope of getting consolation. Do not express fake anxieties lest you get ahead of your own lies. Do not express anything.