Today's BBQ reunion was fun, despite the glaring dearth of MCA attendants. I guess summer is a busy time. Sometimes I marvel at the distance "time" has brought me thus far, and my friends too, both old and new. It's interesting how everybody changes over time, whether it be physically or personality-wise. Inasmuch as I wish we could stay contant, I also relish in change because the latter brings to light hidden facets of who we are. Yet change means letting go, and the execution of that action is often shadowed by pain. Change almost always signifies a lesser degree of intimacy with certain acquaintances, which, if the nature of change stays constant, cannot be helped. That part of change always makes me frown. Reunion brings back certain charms of the past, but what is already history stays etched in yesterday; rather, its purpose lies in the present, giving people the opportunity to reaquaint themselves in present tense. Just like one cannot make a clock turn counterclockwise, one cannot render his life exactly like that of the past, and I guess that thought can be both cheerful and depressing. At least for me, the cheerful part chases away the more painful aspect.

I guess I finally got a facebook :S

Despite the wide variety physical appearance offers, we are all of an indigent spirit. Technology allows the former to be easily altered, yet the latter cannot be transformed by a simple surgery or medicine.

Today when our family went out to lunch with some family friends, I realized how much I admired my mom's character. One of the many conversations struck me and left a poignant mark in my mind. My mom's friend talked about how my mom was misused by a church aquaintance in Canada. The "friend" in Canada used my mom as means of transportation (when she needed to get somewhere, she would phone my mom and ask her to take her there), medical advice, and warehouse (when we moved back to Taiwan, she took most of our furniture, paying a minimum price for all of them). After relating the anecdotes, our other family friend laughed at my mom's beguiling character. Why did my mom help that kind of "friend"? In her mind, my mom's tendency to over-help is a queer vice. However, my mom said to her, "One does not need a reason to help others. Even though she misused me, I would still help her if she needed help. Her wrongdoing had nothing to do with me; I simply avoided any interaction with her."

The force of those words struck me when I recalled a similar phrase uttered by an esteemable character in a novel. When he saved a murderer from falling to his death, the murderer asked the character why he saved him. The character said that helping others is common sense; one does not need a reason for it. I don't know why, but that idea made my heart tremble. Of course almost everybody in the world would shy away from helping those who misuse them, but my mom is different in that aspect. She never hesitates to help. I must salute to that virtue particular to my mom; she is the only person I know who executes and ideality of "help" so thoroughly.

On the other hand... Wimbledon!

First Chinese tennis player and wild card to get into Wimbledon's semi-finals. It's amazing how she beat all the seeded player she played, including current No.1 Ana Ivanovic....

"Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending." - Lazurus Long

I remember how I used to cringe at the thought of saying good-bye, as if it was a poisonous utterance potent enough to kill me once it left my mouth. But after years of saying good-bye to countless of cherished faces, I no longer feel the sting or the melancholy stab in my heart. Have I finally become immune to this most singular disease, or am I merely applying medicines of repression and ignorance? Weariness shadows the word "good-bye", like a creature who survives by obtaining nutrient from your peace of mind, and leaves you void of emotions. To approach the art of leaving in a logical sense is preferred by those who squirm under the influence of tears. The mind not only attenuates the forceful effluence of the heart, but it also allows thoughts to segue. I am one of those unfortunate individual. Tears and sentimental partings render me squeamish, and they tend to efface the more important aspect of saying "good-bye" because my attention is busy trying to relax my nerves instead of focusing on my friend's sincerity. I guess all these petty reasons explain why I did not insert myself into the general atmosphere, bittersweet and melancholy, of parting. Now, I would like to think the ideal reason I did not feel sad is due to the fact that my friendships with certain people are beyond "good-bye". Hopefully that is the case for most people.

It takes a lot to render me sentimental enough to shed tears. That is an equivocal trait; one can interpret it as indifference or equanimity.

Hahahaha dudeee, I've been sitting in front of the TV watching Wimbledon! Tennis is such a mind-oriented and emotional game, moreso than volleyball. I really hope the championship game (Nadal vs. Federer all the way) won't be at 2am or something like that. My brother wants to wake up tonight and watch the Euro Cup championship on the computer at 2. Fanatics like that are absolutely crazy.