Reversal

A reversal of fortune, I suppose.

Few years I got a chance to give myself a test of teaching in English. At the last minute, I flinched.

This semester my "Intro. to Western Lit." course has one foreign student whose presence I hadn't discovered until the first class session started. Out of reluctance, I have to teach the course in English the whole semester.

Forced to do so? In a way, yes.

Feel unhappy? No really.  Sometimes one has perforce to do something which, only years later, can prove itself beneficial and worthwhile.

Hope all this effort of mine would pay.

Zero Count

Everything comes back to where all should restart. How can one have no solicitude for the future, or better, for time itself?

Though time should be passivity, or patience, in waiting for that which one would never lay fast hold of, this understanding cannot dispel the solicitude at present, a present in wilderness with nothing to look ahead of or back at, any more than accrue courage to confront the unknown that is one's equally uncertain fate.

Crying, want to be. Crying. Crying for that nothing in front of which one can shiver only. Tears as a token foreboding a year of throat-slitting test. A token betokens of a year of darkness.

If only tears can be shed.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Aere Gone

After a whole night of ravaging menace, typhoon Aere has gone a bit far from this area. Yet the damage has already been done. A few sections of this city have been flooded and hundreds of people forcefully removed from their homes due to the danger caused by the torrential rain and landslide.

Looking up at the overcast sky covered with thinner clouds, I cannot help feeling lucky to live on the higher floor of the building––only if the threat of earthquake is ignored.

Facticity of life.

Aere

Attacking here right at this very moment is the typhoon Aere. Outside the rain comes down in raging torrents. Damages are highly expected as is witnessed to by many a sour story of similar attacks in the past. As Aere is slowed down in its moving speed by another stronger typhoon, Chaba, the duration of Aere’s attack would be extended to an unhappy length. In fact, schools are already closed and all sectors of business called off today. It is just announced that tomorrow will be another holiday due to Aere. A a holiday of the kind will be welcome to no one.

Hope Aere will be more gentle while enjoying its cruel visit here.

Return

This morning I flew to HL for an oral defense of one former student at N_HU. The flight was domestic. Stepping into the airport I’ve noticed a little change in the deco. One small yet tidy smoking room sat there. I walked into it like a bird following geo-magnetism for directions and stood there watching the planes on the field for a cigarette.

Strange yet familiar feelings. For how many times had I been here flying to and fro between my home and HL in the first two years of my working life? Now I was standing here at the same place yet in different time. Many things had become memories, precious parts for sure. Yet more definite is that they would be memories alone and never be able to come realized again in life. Much like the road not taken, how can one go back to the junction before and choose to not choose the road already taken?

I want to hang on where I am now at N_TU for a while. To see how long can I persevere in the situation and survive. That probably has something to do with man’s dignity, with not to admit self-defeat too soon, not to back down oneself too quickly, and it has to do with pushing oneself to limits to expand and drain one’s potentialities.

Life is never easy.

Lag Behind

After a few days of work, everything comes to a stand still. A rare moment indeed.

Yet I am again behind the schedule of submitting the final evaluations of a few courses. Got to catch up with the schedule for a few chores. Have to submit a bio-note and an abstract, respectively, for papers to be published; to email back one professor regarding his invitation for a written paper from me; and to read through two MA theses for coming oral examinations.

Well, life sometimes looks just like this: always busy in short of a moment of peace at which my own thinking and writing can commence.

Long Interval

Again, a long interval of interregnum. Can’t believe what I’ve been doing for the past few weeks. June is usually the month when everything in school is approaching its end and, therefore, should have been the time that could afford the luxury of writing journals. Yet I just couldn’t feel any urge strong enough to log myself in to write.

Having felt pretty empty inside during this period. Likely already losing some center of balance that can have myself focused. A lot of school works lying ahead which press on me almost to the limit. I want to write and do something more intimate to that which is inside yet remains unknown even to myself.

How to regain that center of balance will be a pressing problem for me to think of in the days to come. Wish the summer break can stretch itself longer, despite its somehow dire prospect where only exhaustion may prevail. For in that way I might earn myself a bit more time to start from somewhere.

To jump start my own being. Or nothingness.

Site Down

Last night just before the midnight, there’s power outage in the area lasting for almost 30 minutes. After that, the server stopped running due to some unknown reasons. I worked for over 2 hours to get nowhere. Finally I gave up and went to sleep entirely dissatisfied.

The server is running a few sites one of which is for the students. Whenever there’s such an accident causing disruption of services, I felt burdened by the inconvenience imposed on other people. That is a kind of burden that would dissuade me from continue the public site. Any loss of data or stoppage of services on a personal level is one thing, the same on the public level is quite another. Day by day I cannot but feel the responsibilities imposed on my shoulders to take good care of the server and the data stored therein.

Why the hell am I doing this to make my already busy days more difficult to cope with? I ask myself several times whenever the like accident occurs. Yet I cannot deny that once the server goes back to normal, I feel happy and satisfied again. Probably I am addicted to this wired fantasy and become too sick to get myself out of it.

Well, what the hell. Just do it as long as I can afford it. If one day I cannot go on, there must be some alternative solutions to that.

In Short of Time

Recently I’ve regained certain order in daily schedule. Sleep before 1:00 and get up at 8:00.

Yet this morning I spent almost three hours on email replies alone. Most of them are business in character. After taking care of them, I was exhausted. Hardly believe so much time spent on trivialities. How can I squeeze more time for reading and writing, for doing something more productive? I really don’t want to waste my rarely gained order of daily life. It will be pointless to get up so early only to write emails. Got to find a way out of this. I need to read, to concentrate, and to write as possible as I can.

Host

Coming to school to host two seminars in a conference that provides a platform for graduate students to read their papers.

Saturday. A fine day. And I’m here to work instead of staying home to enjoy holidays with my family.

Well, that’s part of life. In fact, after I saw my colleague’s face the other day, a face that has been furrowed with lines of tiredness, I simply could not answer the call for my assistance to host one more seminar than initially scheduled.

Yet I’m still happy to be here. Honestly, students to me are always more precious than teachers or already established scholars. Remembering my student days embedded in anxiety for the future and disorientation concerning research, I would be happy to contribute a little of my time to encouraging them.

But just don’t make me do more than I can offer. Thank god conference of this type happens only once in a while. I myself definitely need some rest and more time to handle my own business.

Wrath

Having some problems with Sky. Wrath inside. Burning me inside out.

Feeling not healthy. The fire of wrath, as it’s perfectly clear to my mind, will burn out oneself with no remainders left. What will be left behind is debris only. Do nobody no good.

Yet don’t know how to recover from it or how to rebuild the relation with Sky.

Life, at a moment like this, always looks like a dark corridor without exit, without light, without any of my knowledge that could come to my aids for another turn-making.

Only hope time can heal all.

Be True

Finishing revising a paper submitted to a journal. Spent most of the time writing a rejoinder to reviewers’ comments.

Felt pretty exhaustive and meaningless doing this. Always this norm of what a paper should look like to become of itself relevant to contemporary issues. Why is that? Is that so important? Are all that taking a different approach from fashionable ones not worth reading and their questions and thoughts, worthless and pointless?

People easily forgot what it means by questioning which, to me, is so valuable a gesture that, if losing it, one is prone to failing an authentic existence. Calls me traditional and out-of-dated. Yes, I still believe in that authenticity, one that may not be a truth to all, yet is one to myself.

I want to be true to myself. At least in this respect.