Thoughts and remembrances colliding, struggling , jostling against each other, at the same time entwined with the search of their appropriate english expressions, competing to be the first sentence written down here. I'm now sitting on a sofa in a coffee house, reposing, retarded for staying up 27 hours until now without any sleep, not drowsy since waking up on yesterday's afternoon.
I had registered for some time on facebook and its chinese counterpart xiaonei.com, however, I hadn't written more than one piece of diary on either fearing disclosing too much real thoughts and feelings can only result in losing some friends. Though can such people be said to be my friends is dubious. Here, without aquintances, classmates, or photoes of myself, can be my new continent.
Where are you from? A person who just know my name would always ask this. Everytime I heard this, instead of a reply, a question is in my mind, that why it is important for knowing a person's homeland, just next in importance of knowing one's name, a label without which is unimaginable? I don't know which question is more difficult to answer. I can't have feeling of intimacy to any one of the three cities I have lived for more than five years, provide that my days in this world is two months and twenty-two years. I was born in a little town in xinjiang, lived there for five years and moved to shandong which was my parents homeland, spent ten years there, then went to colledge in beijing until now, almost 7 years. I have vague memory of the town I was born. The little city of shandong I spent my school days was a typical northern chinese city, with vulgar dialect and polluted air, memory of days before my college filled with loneliness, partly due to my resisting of speaking its dialect which every of my classmate speaks. Beijng, as any big citiy in this country, sustain its posterity from absorbing the whole nation's best minds and bestowing previlidges only to its local citizens, excluding people vital to the capital's flourishing simply as outsiders. However, all of these can be overlooked compared to non-material field
"I think this paper is conceptually exceptionally good--the best I've seen here." An american emeritus professor of chicago and tsukuba commented on my paper of his course, the lotus sutra. "I'm a spy, my mission is to seek a cute asian boy" An american "good old boy" said to me a few weeks before the comment of the american prof.. After racking my brain of reading buddhist scripture and two hours of discussing in english, I dated this american guy in bulldozed ground on campus. Such huge comparison existed in many aspects of my life. "Have you been to any english speaking coutry? your english is awesome." "well, i don't think i've traveled to as many chinese cities as you had, not to mention other country" Such kind of dialogue often took place between me and an american. I know many people, but have few friends. I used to study industrial design in a second class college, now majoring religious philosophy in the most prestigious school in china. I told my parents and sister I was gay 6 years ago, but never had intercourse with anyone. My dream at 14 years old is to have KFC hamburg everyday, now I detest it like dungs. Is this kind of pan-schizophrenia phenomenen particular to me? No, maybe very intense in my situation, but it's common to too many people. Homosexuals or not, little town's folk or metropolitan's intellectuals, the rich or the poor, almost everyone living in this fast changing nation, china, may all agree a principle of buddhism:Nothing is permanent.
"Where are you from? "" I'm chinese, I came from nowhere".
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