The Beehive

10:28 24.09.2008

Prioir to entering the boot camp I made a visit to Taipei, there I caught up with some old friends. The age range is 22-26.

***

J'd been busy studying for the past 6 months for Ministry of Foreign Affairs' diplomat exam. He looked sort of busy and content, somewhat uneasy at times. We talked about life in the boot camp, the rules, the ought-tos and ought-nots. After lunch the subject turned to future plans. It seemed a bit odd to me that he was seemingly happy with the direction his life was heading towards. He told me, back in the uni, that he was doing this exam just to please his mentor and that his true intention was in another one of Phd. scholarship. But this time around the only plans for a Phd. that was being mentioned was mine, I had a rough idea of the kind of Phd. course I wanted to do, but any furthur ideas was yet to be formulated. I figured that I still had some miles to cover before I reached a conclusion. On the contrary, the contentness of J showed that he was either lost or had already found what he wanted to do in life (or at least for the moment).

***

V, like me, was doing the army soon. The conversation was mainly about the army, and because we were going to serve overseas so we also talked about the experiences of those before us, the salaries and things relating to this military service of ours. Plans of what was on our minds regarding the future was briefly mentioned and then cast aside.

***

After graduating from the uni, Gua Gua found a living in a trading company in the capital, so we could only meet in the evening. During the course of the dinner, several subjects were brought up, the army of course, what ours friends were up to, and the not-so-distant past. But most of all we talked about her job. She complained what an asshole her boss was and how much she wanted to quit. However, the reality bites, so she would probably stayed for at least an year before moving on to the next or any other plans she had on her mind. She also expressed the desire to continue her education, a master course perhaps. But, the problem was that she didn't quite know what she wanted to study, and I wanted to help her with it, to discover where her true interest lay.

***

Zih-Guo stayed in the Ministry of Education after finishing his service. We didn't chat for long because he had to work the next day. His grilfriend resembled some acquaintance of mine back in the uni. When I rang him they were watching Cape No.7 in the mall, so it was agreed that we were to meet there. We talked about our friends back in the uni, but there wasn't actually that much of them to talk about because we were never that close to them. There were always those little groups and we mainly maintained good relations with each and every one of them, but nothing furthur. I suppose it was because I'd never identified myself with 'em, therefore I didn't dedicate my time in entering their circles. So everytime we talked about them we only mentioned the main figures. Then we moved on to the following subjects: his job, the army, and plans for the future. He was preparing for the functionary exam.

***

It seemed like everyone was in a great hurry in the capital, Shiao-Yen had to run for the metro in 2 hours so we met in the Main Station and chatted over a cup of coffee on the second floor. From our current geographical position, the metro would be reached in about 30 seconds' time. Highly time-saving and efficient. Big metropolis. The cafés and restaurants were mostly full so we made a round tour first.

The conversation started the moment she called out my name back there on the first floor, was interrupted at the counter, and resumed when we were seated. I was surprised to find her still doing her master thesis, so for a good part of the 2 hour that we had she explained to me things behind the smiles. It's not unheard of the unethical practices of some professors: capitaling on the investigations, researches of the students, deploiting them for completely personal means, etc. etc. Anyway, the situation was not in her favour and she was in her fifth year. Then the conversation moved towards the old classmates and teachers, and I was again surprised to find her praising with all the rhetoric she could possibly muster certain professor, whose reputation in the department was quite the contrary, which made me revaluate the way I see the prof, she couldn't be all that negative as rumoured. Before long, as if by nature, future plans were brought up. She was thinking about doing a Phd. in the states and her enthusiasm shone through her expression. She's got that radiance in her eyes while talking about these plans of hers, and at that moment I somehow envied her for it. Then before we knew it, time was up and we parted way.

Paul Newman (January 26, 1925 – September 26, 2008)

All I know about Paul Newman is that he was a famous actor, so while I was reading the news and staring at the picture of him holding some trophy or something I experienced a surreal sensation going over me, it was the same sensation I felt while reading Nuria's email.

She said that the other day in the office someone brought up my name all of a sudden, so everyone started to discuss about my life in the army and imagining how I would look like with a butch haircut, then little by little the discussion died down to daily shores, and the subject was forgotten.

Vivaldi - Nisi Dominus, RV608 VII

09:50 23.09.2008

The world was set with a retro-futuristic style... We were a merrily newly-wed couple... One day she was violated... I sought revenge on the perpetrator... I failed in my vendetta... He escaped... He returned with more sinister intentions and minions.. Our lives acquired a fugitive tone...

It was blurring enough trying to remember it in the morning, let alone at 0855 of the next day while listening to a lecture. The thing about being in the army boot camp is the great deprivation of physical freedom - not being able to freely move around, not being able to move without getting an order. Every movement is conditioned, turn left, turn right, sit down, stand at attention, stand at ease, look straight ahead, eat, applause, jump, run, stop, drink, stand up, sleep, wake up, sing, gather, refill your water bottle, pee and shit, clean your plate, move forward, salute, go down stairs, change clothing and wipe the sweat off your forehead.

The picture of how openly and wholeheartedly you would greet and embrace your family and friends surface to your mind's eye and you take great pleasure in envisioning these images. You also think and dream(literally) about the sheilas. On the bus into the camp you looked out of the window thinking not about the days ahead, but about Evl, you knew why you thought about her at this particular moment, but that was a secret that you could never reveal to her - for maintaining your friendship's sake. The picture of her happily holding her niece by the beach turned you oblivious to the changes to the scenery and the dynamics on board the bus. You see her face, you hear her voice, you think about her life without you, and you sense two roads that will not cross path.

The other night you dreamt about CM leaning joyously in your arms. You were in an elevator that was going up. The setting was also retro-futuristic, just like Lang's Metropolis. Interesting.

The recurring images of them made the idle moments not only easier, but also blissful despite sorrowful at time. They offer a means of detachment and bring up genuine smiles upon your face. What's so curious about this fact is that the deprivation of physical freedom somehow brings about temporary freedom of imagination.

Face/Off

Let me tell you this: it's all about the appearances. Some fella showed the world what a dimwit he was by saying that China was a peaceful loving, tree-hugging country which maintained harmony with surrounding countries(!). He must've been living in a cave. Throughout the history of China we see a great abundance of examples of cruelties against one another and against one's own people. Examples of such merit not a mention here since you can come across plenty of them in any history books on China. This is a statement of facts (many times we need to seperate the actions of the government from its people, David Wallechinsky puts it well in How to Protest the Beijing Olympics).

The same applies to today's Chinese regime, it's anything but peace-loving. Deception is its best trick. If you think positioning a thousand missles in the east coast all directing towards Taiwan is a manifestation of the peaceful goodwill, then I really don't know how to define belligerent. Of course, this is the natural feeling of someone whose country is being threatened, and the world exists no justice at all. "Justice" exists only when 1) you're strong, and 2) you're of any meaningful use to the others. Shameful, but that's how it is. Like I've said only someone whose homeland is in danger will feel this way, people in the "free world" don't give a shit about this because Taiwan is too far away so they just don't feel it.

Deception. Lies. That was how the Communist Party of China (CPC) tricked the IOC (International Olympic Committee) into awarding her the grand prize of hosting the Games. The cases of violations to her promise to allow more freedom of speech out number the amount of existing planktons (another great achievement of the Chinese government), Tibet, Xinjiang and a long list of etceteras, just google them and you'll get more than what you bargain for, enough to keep you busy till London 2012 and beyond.

They do are good at faking things, aren't they? Fake tiger photos, fake journalistic photos of piegons which then won a prize, etc. etc. And today as usual we got some more coming in: fake ceremonial fireworks (which turned out to be CGI), and some Sleight of Voice according to the New York Times. Why would someone do such a thing then? The answer can't be any simpler and straightfoward - it looks good! It looks good, but in reality, there's no real substance to back up the pretty face, but it doesn't matter, because in the end what counts is what's on the surface and that is because that's what we see and believe and, most importantly, that's what we only care about.

I dreamt about you

And in that dream I held your hands in mine, something's odd about you though, probably it was the hair, they were shorter I suppose. We were good and happy, it was sweet. However, despite that I was holding your hands you didn't seem to quite realize how I felt towards you, you treated me just as a good friend. Coincidently, that was how I believed I'd felt about you too, just a good friend, but the great frequency of you popping into my thoughts and the yearning to touch you told me otherwise, which troubles me a lot because your boyfriend is also my friend, and being true to friends, I'm thus prohibited from doing certain things which spell disloyalty.

Then, as if something suddenly hit you, you withdrew your hands slowly and consequently the distance between us grew, both physically and mentally, you became a stranger to me. I didn't know you anymore. I watched you keeping your distance without looking at you. God. Then I woke up, and I couldn't get that haunting image out of my head. It's too hard to tell, I don't know how to interpret your actions and words, if you were single I would have no doubt in my mind that you loved me. But I suppose much guessing is useless now as I'm leaving this place on Sunday, and then on a jet plane next year.

And then you will also graduate and go your own way. For the time being, I don't see that our path will cross, we don't even live in the same town. What makes this time around tough is that you know something about me that others don't, and most importanly, you are you, you critize when you want to critize, you show your love towards the animals with your big mouth and actions when you truely felt it regardless of how others would think about you. You are you, genuine, in my view. You don't wear fancy dress or high heels just because people think it's prettier or sexier that way, you don't put on something that makes you uncomfortable. There were times that you made me angry, but you bowed down and apologized. Then, unlike my usual self, I told you what was it you said or did that made me angry. But when I saw you cry, I felt horrible. And I knew at that moment that my suffering was just about to begin for my feeling towards you was clear and unquestionable.

Lord of War

Tuesday night, you went home 7 hours after you accidently left the door key inside with the lock on. It's been raining these couple of days after the 4 o'clock barrier. You finished your thesis before the semestre ran out of time, and one month later you're still here doing nothing, or probably just desperately trying to take in the last view of the place that you've ever stayed longer than your parent's place.

Tuesday night, you stayed in your room by yourself, as usual. But something's different this time around, you're watching tv. You don't watch tv. Something's wrong, you got too much time on your hands, and you're at a loss of what to do. You like to read, but now is not the moment. Your computer is on and connected to the internet, as usual. So many names are there hanging on the thin line, some are available while others are either idle, busy, away or plain invisible, like you. The fact that their number equals the number of names in your cellphone does little to help you in conjuring up a single smile.

Tuesday night, you turned off the tv after the final line of the credits escaped to the upper part of the screen. You guided your glance towards the pictures of sexy chicks on the monitor, paychecks for your multi-hour "investigative" hard work in front of the computer. They turned you on, of course they do. Still you can't manage to make a smile surface onto your face, you just stare at them cold. You can only stare lifelessly into the emptiness of your life.

And it's moments like this, Tuesday night, that reminds you what a lonely person you are, despite the glorious academic radiance, the charm emitting out of solo cycling tours, quick thinking, brilliant ideas, and your witty remarks. None of them come to your aid at this state of emergency. The one that does, and always has been coming, is an overwhelming feelings that fancies to address herself as Solitude.

Tuesday night, you are desperate, and you have a feeling that you've forseen the future. A future full of nothing but Tuesday nights because you are what you are. People come to you when they need you to do something for them, a question they couldn't figure out for example, or when they were in a dire need to be entertained by something to make this senseless life easier to forget. Apart from that they don't even think about you, out of sight out of mind. Cruel, but every bit as real as the pain produced when a projectile hits you. And just like scars, they never fade, rather they amass, and one day, probably a Tuesday night, you will realize that you are in the inferno that you can never leave.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Monday would be the thesis defense, and now I'm doing the final touches to the powerpoint presentation. I'm rummaging through my travel pics, trying to locate something ideal, then I couldn't for the life of me figuring out why on earth I was so mad at them back then. Well, I mean, I know why I was angry, I know exactly what the problem was, but now the issue seemed quite trivial to me. Perhaps it's what most things will appear to be when it's time to leave this world. It doesn't really matter whether it's because the distance or time makes everything more beautiful than they actually were or rearranged in another sequence. I just miss that time a lot and wish that it could end in some other way even though it's impossible. I have, on top of fond remembrances, great remorses.

Los lunes al sol

Watched Los lunes al sol last weekend for the second time since the first viewing some 5 and a half years ago in Spain. I then went with no particular reason, without knowing much about what the film was all about except that it had won tons of awards here and there, went purely because she wanted to see it. When the credits started to roll I was literally on my knees tearing out of pure joy to be able to get the fuck out of Van Dyck and back on to the streets and the fresh air.

I have the habit of trying to acquire every film I'd watched, every song I'd listened to, or practically anything that I can remember that reminds me of that time, during my stay there, in a apparently futile attempt to recreate the past. Then came one day when nostalgia hit me hard and down bowed I went searching for it among the DVDs, but alas! It wasn't there! Desperately, I sought the answer in my head, but memory was against me, it wasn't like what they say at all, it wasn't found. Lights were out.

Nevertheless all was not lost, for the uni library harbours a fucking copy of it, completes with a goddamn extra disk of interviews, the making of and other stuff! Enraptured I was, and with the first appearance of light in the sky off I went towards my salvation. And much more than my expectation of quenching the thirst, the second time was surely a blast, a blast form the past, and I can assure you that it wasn't just because remembrance, like alcohol, makes everything so much more beautiful, but that I actually loved the film so much that literally was on my knees tearing out of appreciation of it. Then I thanked her for wanting to see it some 5 and a half years ago.

Popularity Can't Buy Life

Little did he know that he was the one who got once more lonely nights to spend now that the thesis is done. Nothing to do, no reason to stay up late in the study room, no where to go but home after the library's closed, but there's no one home to go back to. There're times that I love it, and there're times that I loathe it, but I pass through them one by one on my own all the time.

Reasons why I don't call people whose numbers I have in my cell when I'm caught in the mood is always the same: I don't feel like being funny, I don't like big noisy music nor smoke. I just want someone who can sit with me without words, without looking for a topic, nor excitements.

Conclusion

Well, I've just penned down the last letter to the conclusion and I thought it merits a word or two, after all I've been in grade school for 4 years, it's the single biggest event that changes the status quo. But just as I announced the news, I immediately felt pity for him for the lonely nights he still got to spend in the study room.