Blood

血»
祭所薦牲血也 从皿 一象血形 此从O者 血在皿中 側視之則一 俯視之則成O矣

Blood there is. In a pate. The crying mouth sings either of the pain below or a prayer to the high above.

A drop of blood in the thralldom to the plate.

Swine Head

彐‧ㄐㄧˋ»
豕頭曰彐 字本作彑 略象豕頭上銳而面部碩大之形 本義作豕頭解 即豬頭 彑 豕之頭也 象其銳而上見之形（通訓定聲‧彑）

Now it's a head. A head of swine that pokes its nose towards the sky. The meaty and puffy face seems being put on a plate whose rim line, in fact, stands for the neck below which other bodily parts remain invisible (or cut off?). A fat swine head put on a plate to serve other words by making them, partially, of itself. What other words? Words that should smell good and look piggy. Of course, all this is only guessing at and fantasizing about a picture of the posture of a swine head.

Short Steps

彳‧ㄔˋ»
彳象股（上）脛（中）足（下）三層相連之形 行為人之步趨 今彳僅得其半 故本又作小步解 小步行 行忽小止

彳于»
左步為彳 右步為于 合則為行 凡行 彳先 于必隨之（正字通‧彳于） 行中稍留 彳為小步即起行 于為反彳即步止 彳于為行遂各兼行字 步止一義

A short step is a tiny one. To walk is to walk steps. Continuously and incessantly. Hence walking kept going. Never an easy task. From the buttock, through thigh and shin, and way down to the foot, the posture pictures a tiring work. Almost like a shaking half of a body's underpart. Almost coming to a stop. Or being like to do so. Yet got to keep walking. Raising and lowering steps, one by one, in resolution. Or dissolution will catch from behind. And overdrive.

Troublesome Skin

Troubled by unknown skin disease for weeks. Too lazy to see a dermatologist. Only go to clinics in the neighborhood, seeing doctors of non-specialty in dermatology. Symptoms have not been alleviated. Itching continued.

Finally went to an expert today. Feel differently. Prescription smells highly professional. Hope it will taste the same.

Will fly to Russia tomorrow. May the medication work. Or my trip to Russia will be a hell.

Heartbeats

The heart, the tiny one, does really beat, when the waiting was over.

Speechlessness. Only grateful tears.

Please keep growing and be stronger, my tiny tiny sweetheart.

Ultrasound

Waiting outside the ultrasound room of the clinic. Waiting for a sign, a sign of event—either of happening or of non-happening. Waiting for a verdict, one that concerns life and death.

Does faith or prayer have any place in a waiting like thus? The mind stops working, all sounds strike mute.

Waiting for a sign, a sound. A sound at the ultra level. An ultrasound of heart that beats, and will keep beating our hearts.

Just beat, please!

Site Maintenance

Site maintenance is never easy.

For no reason, the site server has been infected by the backdoor program W32.Esbot.C two days ago. Though it is best to clean the virus by rebooting the server into the safe mode (yes, I'm always regret for not running a Linux server), I have grave difficulty to follow the lead. I can only remotely control the machine, trying my best to kick out the Trojan horse which has seriously destabilizes the server performance for some time.

Again, for no reason, the virus suddenly disappears after several not so successful attempts at dispelling it. My limited knowledge of the server structure and equally limited experience in safekeeping the server cause this inexplicable phenomenon.

For now, I'm still uncertain of the server's status: whether the disappearance is temporal or permanent, or whether the site server will run cleanly and smoothly from this time on.

The very lesson I've learnt from this is simple: were I to be given a second chance, I will never run a portal-like site for many, but a personal site for me only.

The Final Class

N’s final class in summer. Accompanying him to all classes for the whole summer, I am sitting outside as usual waiting for him. The summer has been near its end and will end almost imperceptibly this way. Hard to accept. Drank many cups of coffee; many a thought germinated—while waiting.

Waiting in summer. Waiting for the summer’s end? Or waiting for the end of summer’s waiting for autumn?

In the end of all waiting, tender memories always arise and prevail, speaking of the beauty of the lost time that has never been fully appreciated back then, but appears all the more charming and radiant than ever at present.

N’s summer, my summer. Indeed a memorable summer.

In Short Of

Time, of course. Always running short of it.

As summer vacation is nearing its end, the anxiety for time shortage is rearing its head. How strong it is! And it’s getting only stronger by days.

Got to get hands on the translation project. Or simply be damned.

The Second Second Coming

The second coming fails to come, fails its eventuality and our expectation. Maybe what we are facing is a real hope that cannot know in any way, and can only be blind to, what is hoped for. Maybe the not-coming is in fact its very eventuality, is what the hope it brings forth really meant. Or maybe the coming is not prepared enough because we are not well-unprepared. All is in a mist. Yet all is glittering, gleaming, speaking of something that no one understands but may come to articulate itself shortly after.

The 6-month interval is sheer waiting for nothing.

And now is the second second coming. The same unexpected. The same of that for which we will never be ready. And the same as before will we welcome the coming.

It is the coming that makes the waiting waiting.

The First Dawn Walk with N

Walk with N at dawn. Last night N didn’t sleep well. Sour feet kept troubling him, interrupting his sleep. Too much exercise in the late afternoon that day. And most likely because of bad dreams—or bad memories.

Memories of being hit by me.

Regret. Heart tainted with remorse. Temper lost along with the loss of a football, followed by a greater loss of that part of me which would otherwise let me look straight into my own eyes.

The dawn was beautiful. Clouds assumed a chameleon life. A color magic. We walked and talked. Finally, I asked N to forgive me. Almost a moment of tears at least on my part. N smiled, saying he too has done something wrong. And he held my hand tightly and warmly.

I dare not explore what trauma I might cause, no, I must have caused in N. When the sunshine appeared to blaze the sky, I prayed, in full devotion and sincerity, that may god help me remember this moment. The first dawn I have ever welcome with N, and the last of my guilt and anguish as such.

N deserves my full love; I, however, am never so worthy of his as he ever thinks.

May the sun purge me of my guilt.

The Black Sun

Heated to extremity, the sun turns black. Turns that which looks directly into it blind.

Hit by the black sun, the building is going into spasm.

Encoding Babel

Moblogging is enticing. Yet the test on communicating between different encoded systems has turned out no satisfying results. Kind of like standing in front of a Babel tower with no hope of getting diverse tongues together in mutual talks. Finally gave up on the efforts as they had cost almost twenty hours of human health and energy. Those of mine, of course.

Decide going back to simplicity. If technology cannot make things easier but complicated, maybe it’s time to go back where simplicity reigns. Productivity, supposedly, starts there.

Forgotten

Almost forgot what has meant and should still mean the most in life.

Exhaustion on face, yet ecstasy in heart. Heading into the uncertain and unexpected, travellers in a foreign land were bound together in courage. Adventure always, and almost magically, turns one’s attention to what is simple, simply important, yet has been easily forgotten: being by my side someones always are.

Start thinking of the meaning of vacation.

Mobile Blogging

After quite some time of trial and error, a way is found, thought not without certain comprise, to post blogs on the move. Blogging by email, ftpping photos taken by the phone camera to the server, and cron-activating the entry . Though a simple 3-step procedure, a pda camera phone with GPRS wireless connection and a palm ftp tool are needed to make it really work. Time and energy exhausting to get it go.

Blogging on the move; a moving blogger; a blogging wanderer.

The only question left, however, is this: how often would one thus keep thinking and blogging thoughts after technologically empowered as such?

A fearsome question.

Rain Storm

A storm strikes.

A pool of water is in uproar of silence.

A Day of No Luck

Today was not my day. A horrible day of no luck at all.

This morning I drove my car for the first regular vehicle check in three years. The sky was overcast. I drove while looking for the exact location of the check point. Then within seconds the car hit upon the tail of a little truck in front. My car was badly damaged, while the truck’s tail only mildly broken. Yet I have to pay for the double damage. The fee on my part, after the price check, has already risen up to around 40,000, not including the check on and fix of the engine if necessary. The fee on the other party is up to now unclear as I’m waiting for the phone call concerning the price. It’s like waiting for the final conviction.

I dare not imagine how much this accident due to my carelessness will cost me at last. My only hope is that the owner of the truck would be kind enough to ask for a reasonable fee. As for the condemnation on my part: aside from the large amount of money to pay, I will suffer for long my having no car to drive and my difficulty, a formidable one, in telling my family the truth.

Really want to cry. Yet no tears. Only blank stares at the void in the air.

One Tooth Unplugged

One tooth has been taken out of my mouth. A big, ugly, and dirty tooth on the surface of which the irremovable yellow-brownish stains from long-period smoking, chewing, and tooth-decaying encircle.

A miniature of my life already passing by. Rugged. Badly curved. Deeply holed. Far from being lovable.

Being Weightless

eMule v0.45b Statistics

Runtime: 67 days 1:47 Hours
Transfer Time: 66 days 17:34 Hours (99.5%)
Upload Time: 66 days 17:31 Hours (99.5%)
Download Time: 57 days 1:06 Hours (85.0%)
Total Server Duration: 66 days 8:28 Hours (98.9%)

Downloaded Data: 66.57 GB
Download Sessions: 57033
Total Overhead (Packets): 3.68 GB (61.81M)

Uploaded Data: 107.86 GB
Upload Sessions: 172405
Total Overhead (Packets): 4.44 GB (78.89M)

It's already been over 2 months. The existence in the meantime can be said of the ecstasy of information overload at best, and of unbearable weightlessness and mental blankness at worst. For over 2 months, my being seems transfixed by the endless flow of bits and bytes in to and out of the computer, by the vast and boundless sea of informational exchange. It is all about share. Yet is it? What is this emptiness inside that would surface time and again even after the great joy of successfully getting the target files following the long wait? Watching the incessant change of figures, numbers, and statistics of the data transfer, one cannot help shuddering at the ecstasy of overloaded information. One at the same time cannot avoid tasting the bitterness of an existential modality that keeps losing its weight. Is this one way to be free? To be free or merely to feel free? Or there's no difference in between? To feel free and to be anxious about being thus. The difficulty of living!

Site Update

Today is N’s birthday. Yet I could not make it home for the celebration with S and N and other families. Alone in the office study room to take care of academic chores and class preparation. Finally, I gave up the more productive efforts and in to spending time on upgrading a xoops site under my management.

The site’s core files have not been updated since last September, I suppose. Though quite a few updated patches have come out in the meantime, I simply refuses to integrate them due to the consideration that ruthlessness in this regard may cause site users graver inconvenience. The other reason is simply my want of time in doing it with the utmost care and patience, both of which are essential to a successful and smooth update. I never imagined that the update would finally occur on such an occasion—being alone far away from S and N, having mild headache, and regretting for not being able to attend N’s birthday party.

Yet the update has finally been done and the site now looks running pretty well. Since the server machine was rebooted yesterday to deal with unknown problems, I’ll take a note of how long this time the server will keep running before another needed reboot. The module Protector is a real pain in the ass. I still cannot figure out how it should be set properly and how well it would run with other modules. I’ll just keep an eye on it.

Broken Apart

易‧解»
天地解而雷雨作 雷雨作而百果草木皆甲坼

Earth and sky are breaking loose, followed by thunderstorms. Hence the newly grown skins of flora all broken apart.

The Second Coming

S called me for an event already happening, yet not in its full presence.

Though a bit surprised as it exceeds daily expectations, I did feel the burgeoning of something new inside.

We had a long talk through the phone, exchanging thoughts regarding the impact the event may have on our life. This, of course, is of the line of thought that resides on the reality principle. Reality, for sure, demands that the event be stopped.

Can reality ever think otherwise?

Deep inside my heart a voice did sound otherwise, singing to me a celestial bliss the event's coming will bring us.

Along with the bliss will come hardship? Yes. Ordeal? For sure. A great disruption of our already planned and scheduled life? Definitely.

To deal with that disruption will be the greatest and the gravest challenge we will face were we to decide welcoming it. We will need courage, wisdom, and love to house the bliss coming to us.

To be ready to not be ready. This is the essence of hospitality, of hope, and of future.

After thoughts and tears, I have made up my mind to receive the gift, to welcome the guest into my house, into my life, and to believe at the same time that the blessed guest will enrich my life, will make my days countless ones teeming with life.

This is the Second Coming.

And I have nothing at hand to prepare myself other than the patience in love and the faith in hope.

Channel

丨‧ㄍㄨㄣˇ»
以直豎指上下貫通之事 直通於上下之事象

Trace

禸、厹»
獸足蹂地之跡

Traces left by footprints of animals' hooves dragging over the ground.

Droning

Hear insect non-stop droning from nowhere. A sign of weather change. Temperature going a bit higher. Sounds and smells like summer.

Is it now already leaving behind the winter and entering a warm spring? Almost not feel cold this winter.

I’m starting to miss the coldness, which seems able to make everything, physical and non-physical, coagulate to a solid matter. Solid coldness.

Cha for Tea

Went to a tea house named Cha for Tea with S and N to enjoy a windy yet beautiful afternoon. Only a day to go before the end of the Chinese New Year holidays. Felt a bit sad and anxious (due to my coming deadline of a tough paper). Yet at the same time the joy of life welcomed me without reserve.

On the table where a piece of paper used as the plate pad caught my attention. A few Chinese classic poems written on the paper, when read aloud, evoked a mood that rendered the gathering all the more memorable and agreeable.

Most to my liking are these three.

清鄭板橋詩»
不風不雨正清和翠竹亭亭好節柯最愛晚涼佳客至一壺新茗泡松蘿

明文徵明詩»
碧山深處絕纖埃面面軒窗對水開穀雨乍過茶事好鼎湯初沸有朋來

元馬臻詩»
竹窗西日晚來明桂子香中鶴夢清侍立小童閒不動蕭蕭古鼎煮茶聲

It is the last one that amazes me most. As the poem is written in the Yuan dynasty, likely the most sterile period in the history of Chinese poetry, the mood of both tranquility and easiness, as well as solitude, is vividly conveyed. One can almost feel that drowsy yet pleasurable ennui mixed with the smell and sound of the boiling tea. What a nap one has just awaken from, only to a dusk equally delightful.

A Wish

The third day in the Chinese Lunar New Year vacation. Almost feel, or smell, the ending flavor of the holidays. In a way, it should be true thus.

Two or three days later, I’ll be thrown back into a hell where I’ve already been for over a week before the holidays. A paper to complete and not yet so. After the holidays, I got only 7 days at most to devote myself to the work. Yet the real working time, to my best measurement, will be only 4 or 5 days. I can imagine how hard and hellish those days will look like, the thought of which seriously darkens the tinge of vacation happiness.

If being asked of the wish in the new year, I would reply: more hours to be used for one day, and better quality of sleep for the whole year. Simply hope I could act, think, and live in a calm and composed manner to confront all the challenges in the days to come. That demeanor, to my belief, will be utterly important in using the meager time in the best way possible.

So help me, God.

Get Stuck

Get stuck in the middle of a working paper. It should’ve been done by the end of the last year. Yet the new year still starts with an unfinished paper. Feel quite anxious and a bit depressed. The good thing, though, is that I’m getting more clear about the topical focus and the way to trim the paper length. I only hope that by finishing the paper, I would learn more in both thinking and writing than before. Otherwise I really don’t know how to go on to do it.

Recently, I fall into a status of grave dissatisfaction about my own research. It should be time for breaking free from the phantom in the past and breaking a new ground for the future. Yes, the future. I’m waiting for a future that is not only redeemable, but able to redeem my past.