Talking to myself

Today’s the first day of the long weekend – our labour day long weekend. Still remember last year’s labour day long weekend, I was at a club. Time flies. Since Jan 1, 2007, I haven’t been clubbing no more. Didn’t do that intentionally. It just came to a halt naturally. The second half of 2007 – for some reasons I always think it’s already 2008, which is not good. I can’t help questioning myself – Do I live in this moment? Gotta make sure that I live in the moment 活在當下 coz those who don’t are miserable. Overall, I think I’m happy. I sometimes want to ask my friends – Are you happy?

(I know my thoughts now are quite scattered. Jump from A to C to Z and back to B. It’s just thoughts. But if you choose to read more…)

Are you happy? I guess that question is pretty awkward in a way.

(Aside, there seems to be a difference between happy and joy. Though, I thought it was the other way around…)

I care, even though I might not seem to.

(Remember one of my classmates wrote on my F.5 graduation “memorial book” and said I always seem so close, yet so distant.)

I guess, that’s me. I don’t hold my girl friends’ hands/arms. Seldom ask too personal/family-related questions. Seldom dig or sniff around – I think if people want to share, they would say it. 君子之交淡如水 – this phrase always comes to my mind.

(Tell you something, this post wasn’t supposed to be a stand alone one – but an intro to my trip to Stratford. Since I was totally off topic after the first paragraph, I decided to make it another post.)

I blog quite often. Exposing oneself is dangerous and I know that. Why would I blog? I can’t even remember the motive of starting up a blog back in 2004. Always think back and try to find out the true self. But how do I know the self back then was true/original? I haven’t systematically studied philosophy, but this question seems a bit philosophical to me. Everyone changes and evolves. I was told that I was very shy and introverted when I was a kid. Due to whatever reasons, I was put into situations where I couldn’t stay that way. I changed and some people even see me as a hyper-extroverted party girl or social butterfly. Is that true? There must be reasons why people perceive me that way.

I dislike using “I”/”me” since I find it too self-centered, however I keep talking about myself here. Well, at least, here I’m not forcing people to read – unlike conversations, you are forced to listen to other talking about themselves.

Do I really love food? I remember getting the first business card of the restaurant and taking notes of the food experience. It was the time when I was with my first significant other. We were students with not much income. The food was ok, but I was excited about it. Where did I get the idea of keeping the food journal, I can’t remember.

Do I really love music? Without Internet, I think it would be very different. If I didn’t come back to Toronto, I don’t know if I’d appreciate music as I do now. Even, without certain friends, I wouldn’t have had the exposure to certain things.

Do I really love reading? I remember I always stayed in the library when I was a kid. I remember I got yelled at because I was reading non-stop from morning to evening and didn’t do any housework/homework.

Do I really love travelling? I recall reading maps to find out the routes from home to other districts in HK. I want to know where I am on the map and how to get to the other point.

Do I really love movies? Blockbusters, Rogers Videos, pirates, downloads. watching movie before bed. It was a late change.

Do I really love writing? I used to get a lot of A’s for Chinese/English compositions, and got a prize for an English poem once – I didn’t even know my teacher put the poem in the competition. I used to write 2-3 letters per day, compose an ICQ info every day. However, I never think I have this kind of talent at all, especially when I look at other people’s articles. The depth and breath, can’t compare. I’m just mumbling here.

Too many things that I love. I guess my passion is to embrace everything. That’s a bit too greedy, isn’t it?

Feel like a sponge a lot of the time. I’m reading, reading more, but still need to read more. Assimilate. I feel that answers are out there. Answers to the unknown questions.

Chaos, randomness, change. I feel like a new born. Open and curious.

Yes, create everything from nothing.

3 thoughts on “Talking to myself

  1. It’s 2 am here California. I don’t know how many times I would drop by to experience your words and your thoughts at this hour or just listen to the latest song you’d put on the radio. There would almost always be some resonance. It’s a rather amazing sensation. The questions you posed here happen to be constant visitors through my head.

    The philisophical “Who am I?” and “Is this really me?” sure packs a heavy punch no? I read your words with a sense of wonder at the same time a sense of relief, knowing that “Marz” exists. The parallel is a comfort. (These are just thoughts as well, hope you don’t mind)

  2. i don’t think i have seen more of myself in another person. also born in TO and stayed in HK for quite a few years. thank god i learned how to read chinese there, your words resonate of who am i. (then again, “who am i?” right?) indeed, in Ray’s words, “the parallel is a comfort”. keep writing your posts, i’ll be reading them.

  3. Hi Ray and Jen, thanks for the comments. When I was typing up this post, I tried to type whatever that came to my mind. There are so many different thoughts that popped up the each second – I couldn’t even record all at the same time. I know I could have organized everything a bit better.. or at least at more meanings to it. But at the same time I prefer the chaotic state. It’s like talking to myself. I didn’t expect the comments but I’m really happy that you feel the resonance. Yes, that’s the comfort. Thoughts are always welcome. No worries. I haven’t typed anything this “personal” in a long while. thx for the encouragement 🙂

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