perfect

Somewhere around June 2010, I remember that for a moment, I felt perfect.

Sesame Street

I haven't been paying attention to sesame street in a long time, but I think these more recent clips are great. (videos on Youku, one of the Chinese Youtube sites)

This one is unexpectedly hilarious: G club

And this one is just a good reminder:Will.i.ams Song, 'What I am'

New blogging space

Please check out my new Travel Blog for actual updates.

I have been on the fence about whether or not to continue this blog. Mostly, I think this blog represents a quiet, dark, cool space in my mind that hasn't been visited or dwelt in for a long time. I am not sure if I want it there or not. When I'm feeling friendly, I accept it as part of me. When I am feeling stuck, I want to push it into the past and move forward. But, for now anyway, I am avoiding embarking upon such an internal cultural revolution. I tend to return to the desire of embracing history, even if it's just the desire.

Flowers

"One of the things you have to do with a flower," he said, "is let it grow, it's own way. You have to give the flower what it needs to grow.

patience

When I was younger, each day was its own eternity, and I wondered at adults' comments that months could seem to fly by.

When I was younger, I was amazed by my parents' relative lack of enthusiasm over holidays. They explained to me that although I had only seen a few holidays, holidays happened every year. After many years, you get used to them. I did not comprehend this.

Almost two decades later, I feel weeks flicker past. Holidays come and go like a wheel.

I think that if a person were to live infinitely, seeing all things, whole eons would pass in the blink of an eye and the heaves and surges of the world would become a steady ebb and flow.

I consider that God is infinite patience

Things

In school, one of the things that used to keep me awake was the wondering over how much of me was myself, and how much of me was made of parts that I incorporated from other people. I wondered whether there was a particular thing that I could point to that was myself, since I felt that there should be. If not, then who/what was I?

Now, I feel the situation has almost reversed. It feels almost easier to consider myself as an aggregate, refracted expression of experiences and preferences.

It seems natural that any one Thing is itself an organized, interdependent collection of other things.

Collective perspective

I am a dendrite in the mind of humankind