Boys 2006-- 2006's Last Entry

Well, 2006 means a lot to me. Every year has its unique meaning. In 2005 I began to practice in the hospital, and tired myself like a dog. I spent 2004's Xmas and New Year's Eve in Spain, where all restaurants and boutiques were closed then and hungered me like a refugee. In 2003 I visited Saitama in Japan as an exchange student. In 2002 I had the most joyful travelling experience in France. However, I just never, never, met so many groovy and characteristic boys as in 2006. To these boys, I must be nothing but a passer-by in their colorful world and never occurred to them after I left their sights in the rest of their lifetime. Yet you impressed me so much, boys. Ha ha......

It sounds that only boys are worth mentioning in this year. No. I also met numerous fancy and stylish girls, too, especially in this department. But they are just, aah, hard to explain. These beautiful girls are civil servants. They all have glorious academic and educational background. They are decorous, experienced, learned, and aware. They own admirable titles and salary. Their hairstyles, bags, and dressings cost more than my whole year's wages. (Poor Oscar....) Most important of all, they barely give me a damn. I'm too childish and fresh to them. In front of them I'm like a fool.

Boys are different. We can communicate. To name one, my senior officer, Donald, the guy toasting in the center of the picture most above. He used to be a chest surgeon of fame, and now he works in our bureau as a senior specialist. He has been on a run since I met him, from the office to the graduate school (he is still studying), from dealing with government documents to keeping up with our Director-General's changeable new ideas. While for all these, he tries to keep a good temper, and has been nice with his subordinates, to name one, me. Donald is very natural, in contrast to most officials being airy, chichi, and snobby. Knowing such a nice guy, I wish him a merry life and a blessed family.

Two New-Yorkers to mention for their outstanding manners and looks, compared to vulgar and crude me. One of them is a dentist graduated from NYU, and the other is a chiropractor practiced two years already in New York. They serve their substitute service the same as I do now. Their height is more than 180, and they have regular workouts. They lived in New York for a long time and got their doctor degree there, good enough to overlook all the others including me in this department. What provokes my envy more, they have double eyelids, pronounced countenance, nearly ivory complexion, and bewitchingly incorrect Mandarin accent. I and they two met barely three or four times so far. I shunned them purposely, honestly. Standing near them embarrasses and shames me I think, for reminding people how short, weak, feminine, and bold I am. Their existence doom me to a gloomy spot-- funny Oscar, your English is poor, and you are not even masculine. Forgettable Oscar.

By the way, last night's feast was really a lot of fun. Calories, trash food, and artificial sweeteners always make me high. Colleagues around me were nice, too. They made me feel like at home. Oh, thank you all.

Don't Forget About Us-- dedicated to Julie and Nadia

As everybody knows, I serve my substitute service now. During this period, I decide to make a record to remember all the peers/brothers/friends/buddy buddies/colleagues around me. I have made a note in one of my previous essays about my roommate, JayDavid, a handsome/
cute/well-built/hard-working/perseverant boy. I also narrated an argument last two weeks between me and a headstrong/invincible companion. I decide to let it go on to the others. Frankly speaking, not all the guys around me made up a beautiful or interesting story to commemorate. For instance, Bill defines verjuice; mini Michael keeps his personal life like a clam so much that makes himself hard to communicate. I had unresolved different viewpoints from JayDavid about things in life most of time and it resulted in wrangles. But for all that, I still appreciate these experience getting along with them. They serve me different flavours of life, in contrast to the monotonous and "monoclonal" people in hospitals-- callous/arrogant/jaded/ weighted down/messy/untidy/loose/wrinkled/podgy. Hell for Hyacinthus. (Hyacinthus has some ambiguous affair with Apollo, and is killed by Zephyros due to Zephyros's unrequited and jealous adoration)

But in the very very beginning before I start the journey of boys, I would like to dedicate this to my two lovely/sweet/shining/breath-taking/stylish/refined/aesthetic/friendly/helpful/kind/ one and only/unforgettable teachers, Nadia, and Julie. Here is the website of Nadia, http://www.nadiahatta.com/. It's her that encourages me to embark on this blog and keep on expressing myself. She makes language learning a fun lesson to take. And when it comes to Julie, she plays both roles as my tutor as well as my counsellor. She offers her care and empathy to me and also eases my worries and sorrow. It's impossible to complete all the narrations and convey all my thanks to them in an instant. But this is the bow of the ship. As it went by, both you and me can get to know them more and more. So are the boys.

Draw A Lot, Make A Wish

Some words I don't say, but I do feel; some things I don't do, yet I know what it will end up being. Sometimes you don't speak, but I know you perceive; some things you don't do, while you foresee the results. And I still believe, someday I will open my eyes and see; I will find out who's the one in my mind. Someday I will unfold my wings and fly, over the back of the world, to have you realized all the changes I've underwent.

Many nights I contemplated it through over and over again. Winds kept blowing, while moonlight hesitated to come into my bed.

For all that, I ask God for prophecy. I ask how the transmigration of sorrow and laughter take place. Down the waterfall, where my career may be taken to. I ask how much destiny I owe. Why my sincerity and true-heartedness come to naught. Yet I am always alone, I still reach out for a hug or a nod. A lot of water passed under the bridge. I see my body loosening, my face wrinkling, my eyelid dropping, and my voice coarsening. Where is my Neverland? Where is the niche I belong? Let all these doubts unspoken. My knees bended, my head bowed, I ask for God's instructions. There is little I can do, and I pray my family be granted with blessings.

Sing And Dance With Me

I regard it as God's blessings that I sing and dance better than the average do. I love these two hobbies, and that's why I go to pubs or KTVs so often. It's so much pleasure that you can express yourself so freely. In ordinary life, it won't be encouraged to show your extreme points of view, and it won't be allowed either to do whatever you want to. And dance and singing are the outlets of my upsurging emotions and my turbulent sentiments. Act it out and scream it loud!

Recently I've had a lot of leisure time. Thank Bill and Mini Michael, the two newcomers, to share my loads and pressure. However, sarcastic to say, I have little to communicate on my blog. Usually only after any kind of frustrations or unfair affairs will I be stimulated to convey my painful thoughts. So you see here, it's not all that bad to have some backfires or setbacks. But I still dig out some reflection son life to share, because I know that even quite few, there are people who are concerned about me and read my essays.

One interesting finding to mention. Several days ago I listened to the radio and I was more than surprised to find that one famous ophthalmologist, who wrote many distinguished lyrics and renowned poems and prose, was doing his propaganda for his solo singing album!!!! One more title coronated on him, talent! And he is claimed to be the third doctor to be a singer in Taiwan's pop music history, as well as the only one to be engaged in the two opposite career simultaneously. Really a Mr. Incredible to juggle all these. Hearing and reading his news, I am very much inspired and urged. Life is not that commonplace or monotonous. I still can work out or fight out my chance to do something extraordinary, to tell the world I am worth being appreciated for being me, to spice up the world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why Do All Good Things Come To An End

"Flames to dust Friends to enemy Why do all good things come to an end", Nelly Furtado

Well, just a matter of time, from birth to death, from good to bad. How many things positive I can leave behind in people's memories?

I am not sad or depressed right now. I am quite calm.

Chilly, Frosty

It has been crazy-driving enough to have so many damn freezing mornings at a stretch. What makes it worse is the non-stop rainfalls. My fingertips tingles in this kind of weather due to numerous wounds and bleeding sites on them resulting from my terrible habitual bites.

My life in this week is actually, no that bad. I have a lot of free time to do my own reading and music listening. I regain my interests at high school in female folk vocals, like Steve Nicks, Tori Amos, Edie Brickell, Sarah McLachlan, Jewel, Kate Bush, Patty Smith, Suzanne Vega, and so on. Their vocals are spiritual and refined, and the original creative works in them can't take my "ears " off it. I love this kinda sentiments.

Oh, well, it will be one more lonely Xmas. No big deal, merely one more. And I really appreciate it, for having a day off on the eve. I still can remember how miserable it was to be required to work on holidays last year as an intern in the medical center, regardless it is Saturday, Sunday, Xmas, New Year, or Chinese New Year. The only words you wanted to express then was, "What a fucking job it is that sinks, stinks, and sucks. " So at least it's blissful this year that I have a ordinary life as a normal person, to take days off that should be taken off, no matter if there are people around me or not. So, you might be curious about my holiday plans. Ah, probably have a big dinner and do window shopping in the malls. This is really the stereotype of what I've done in the past 7 years every time I'm free and alone in the city. Don't put too much expectation and excitement on holidays, for fear that the backfires get me.

By the way, I get a job next November as a physician in Kaohsiung Chang-Gung Memorial Hospital. Alas....What kinda life it may be in the future five years, no sunshine (and no rain, too) , no fancy dressing, no abundant time for a bath and a meal, no folk music, no energy to fall in love desperately against all odds, no space to express my extreme point of views, no friend to cry to, no rope to hold on, no reason to break down and freak out. Nevertheless, this probably my unrealistic fancy; you can never predict if you can last to that day. Never say never. Anything can happen in that island. Ha ha...................

I am not insane. I am just unwell.

One More Day

I just breathlessly finished reading Mitch Albom's "One More Day", suggested by dear Nadia. Wow, what a spine-tingling tearjerker.

Recently I just realized that, there is neither perfect marriage nor perfect family, which I used to regard mine as. Mom shared some negative feelings and disappointments about Dad once in a while this year when I came back home and got alone with her. These years have been tough for her due to unpredictably and uncontrollably paining backache. What's even worse, Dad showed little compassion for his pillow partner. Maybe his compassion runs away little by little day by day. Mom said, Dad scolded her for shaming him by telling neighbors and friends that she suffered from pain. He said she ought to "keep silent undergoing treatment at home" without making everybody known.

Mom also said, she had a Vietnam friend in neighborhood who married a Taiwanese old widower. After the husband passed away, the Vietnam wife was dumped out of the house by the her stepsons. She was homeless and lonely without money. Mom tried to help her, but Dad callously warned her "not to get herself into trouble". Mom felt dejected, and a little bit, despaired. And there were something else.

Well, I appreciate Mom's sharing with me; at least it proves that I'm someone she can rely on when Dad hurts her heart. While simultaneously, I felt a little stunned. I heard some wrangles among them about, "loyalty", years ago. Then it came down to be nothing. But now, disputes reemerged.

Dad is traditional and incredibly conservative. But undeniably, it's his conservatism without haphazard investments that raises a family. By the same token as you might imagine, he is very, man. And he doesn't know women. I figured that through these decades they had both made their own way together. But probably it was just endurance, not comprehension. It is not alright. I'm glad I am Mom's boy and I can be her comfort. Not many boys are willing to be Mom's. Yet me and Mom are meant to belong together.

Maybe every family has a unspoken freak story. Too shamed to speak of. So it's kinda relief and ransom to read a truthful family account having similar memories with yours.

There are something else that needs my attention, or I would like to spend some time sharing that sad Vietnam wife's story. Discrimination flows. It's everywhere. We try so hard to please people with ivory complexion and decent English accent, while spit people having similar skin color in need of more help. Disgusting.

Hysteric Fights

This morning I heard a serious arguement between two members in the neighboring office of Ministry of Foreign Affairs. It's quite scary to me because the atmopshere was quite furious and the arguements were between two high-leveled officials. I contemplated this kind of irrational quarrel should only happen between silly, childish, and low-classed people, like me and Michael.

Michael is my colleague who is accompanying me to Marshall Islands. He graduated from medical school as I did, yet we are on the extremes. He shows apathy about the Marshall Project, even though I tried several times to stir her interests, or to say, responsibility. I think the only reason he chooses to participate in us in spite of his disinterestedness is, it' cool. It's cool to go abroad during the fucking obligatory social service a piece of shit, but it's no cool concerning the efforts you should pay abroad, or before aboroad. I try to make the best of myself during this project, but I feel cold flush when Michael turns his back on me again and again. Due to this kind of irreconsilable differences, I suggested Michael to bow out of this program. These rude words irritated Michael unexpectedly, since I am nothing but his peer. He freaked out. He said, "I will not beat you here in Taiwan, but............"

I feel disheartened. I don't think I deserve this. But I know I must do something wrong making the condition even worse. Well, although we are on the same boat cruising, we have different purposes taking this boat. It's hard or even impossible to push or demand him to navigate to the direction I want it to be. He doesn't push me, either. So where will the boat lead to? Nothing in between or in between?

Anyhow, at least Michael showed me his bottom of line. For my own safety in the future year on that bleaky and sterile island, I decide to draw back my harsh personality a liitle and swallow all the bitchy and bitter words I used to say to others. Michael can make something big. He makes his own way to get permiitted to the medical school and next licensed as a physician, regardless of his unfavorable and poor family background. I cannot say he is lazy; a sloth cannot achieve as he does. He just has his knacks and skills, which are extremely different from mine. So maybe the best way for our collaboration is to leave him alone, while to leave me alone, too. Then it's not collaboration. So can I make it alone on the island? No way. Jesus Christ.

Life is short. I try to make it shine. What's puzzling, sometimes it's an issue of the scale's balance between how much you want to earn and how much you can sacrifise. To save, or to lose. To gain, or to let it go. And what's most suffering, the tip of what you expect to earn is unpredictable and unsteady, before you put all yourself on the other tip. Even so, possibly just as Julie said, life itself is not merely to lose or to win; it's how much you lose and how much you win. So far I try hard, to lose less.

Bitch As I Am

It feels good to be a bitch; that's just the way I am. It feels good to be me.

Recently I haven't got that much pressure. Maybe I am forgotten, or maybe the free time is just of a fleeting moment. Anyhow, I enjoy the present condition. Of course, I understand it cannot be usual or normal. The real world is, you need to fight and fight and tread on the thorns and push the obstructions away. It's not common to take a long deep breath as I do now. So I cherish this moment.

When will I be sent to the Marshall Islands? What time is the next challenge coming? Will things go the way I want it to be? Ah, I don't know. There is nothing I know for sure. Looking back at my past, I found everything in my life, bitter, sweet, sorrowful, awful, fucked up, good, bad. Wow, I am 25 already!

Thank You, Julie

Good is good, and bad is bad. I don't know which direction I'm blown to. Sometimes I hesitate; most of the time, I fall and struggle. I am alone, and it's so much pleasure to see somebody reaching out for you.

During last week working, my emotions had quite a big rise and fall. Due to unexpected increasing pressure from the boss and the staff, I started to wonder if I should quit or not. I know I'm so much like a kid, who walks and falls and crys and gets into anger, but it's real me. I was afraid if I kept staying in this bureau, or if I went to that bleak island with two "unfamiliar" partners, I would break down and fall into pieces. All the odd errands around me were too troublesome to get my brains clear. Some colleagues were nice to me but some were cold. My happiness was burried, my enthusium was burned out, and I tried hard to find out what was left.

Then Julie came to me, soothing my temper and mitigating my worries. Life has never been exactly what we have had expected, and I mend and mold myself as it goes on a long way. Julie reminds me of this. I am encouraged to extend my strength and face my weakness. Life is a shooting star, and I should make it shine in that moment of time.

I am still learning and trying. Future is mysterious, and I'm unveiling it step by step. Will the honor belongs to me or not I don't know; no one knows actually. But don't let the fear and derpression haunt me. Don't pack all the negative feelings inside my shallow heart. I am just a lonely boy, trying to make my own way home. And I am so blessed that there are friends getting me out of the bottom. Julie, thank you so much.