Compulsions to write, feeling like Ryan Gosling meme every day.

Sitting on a rented house whose design I somewhat disagree, feelings of emptiness rushed through my brain every single morning.

Pretend to be well, pretend to be rich before my ex-girlfriend, pretend to myself that I am handling the situation calmly, my daily ritual has became to chain-smoke expensive, smuggled Japanese cigarettes everyday. 

When I was 8 or something, a number where I fail to understand the weight of the world, I wanted to be a writer. With the current human condition, I started to lose understanding of this goal. To write is to create a connection among your audiences, but in a world where we are all forced to chuck down shit, I feel I am losing this audience. Perchace it is a Diogenic lifestyle that I long for, but I need to earn bread for my family, for it is still the secular objects that offer people with basic sense of security. The urge to benefit them is unresistable, even though my own somewhat radical ideologies is sacrificed :( I hate human being but they do not. 

Suppose I have a nuclear suitcase in front of me that would wipe out the entire human race on this planet, with a single press of a plastic, colourful button, I would smash that shit with no hesitance. My existence is nothing (a very buddist thought even though I'm not), but there is way too many people in this planet that believe their existence gave them the right to steamroll others, and perhaps there is a reason for them to exist in such quantities. It would seem that the pride that we hold in our own species is inherited. I just don't see the point to it. To me, the idea of having to end my suffering with one single tactile click is worth considering. Yes, I have received kindness and had a childhood, but no, the world is too cruel for kind people. In a somewhat darwinism reality, holding conscience to your prey is not the way to survive. But if you want to survive in the first place, you cannot be simultaneously enlightened, or morally elevated, or even consider any forms of sophiscation. 

This is only one of such things that I don't understand about the world, my race (as human being, but you can argue that I too don't understand chinese), and there are so many of them. 

L'Étranger

(consider this as a trigger warning. This post contains some material that may be not suitable for children including but not limited to: substance use, vulgar language, dark humour, themes of mental health, discrimination or prejudice. Viewer discretion is highly advised. )

So I was kicked back to China, in the city of Shenzhen after being absolutely traumatised by the shït I witness on a daily basis. I am having major Canada withdrawl symptoms. On the second day down the aeroplane, I stepped on dog (or human?) shit on Chinese streets in Shenzhen. For all the record I can recall, surrounded by its voracious mobs, this city has bought me nothing but failure. I moved to Guangzhou.  

I have always thought myself as a foreigner. un étranger, in the language I have newely acquired. Although I need to point out that, this is not the first time I have read L'Étranger by Albert Camus. I am more at ease when I don't hang out with my own kinsmen but that is between you and me. IF there is anything the Chinese is good at, it is to assume that you are at the same level of shittiness with them, and if they found out you are not, they will strive to reduce your sanity to that same level, if not worse. They seem to believe that you *ought* to believe certain doctrines, certain paths of life where you fetishize an apartment, a public servant job, communism with chinese characteristics, bubble tea, big fucking TV that only boardcast state station called CCTV, gastronomy without menu comprehension, and, preferrably beat your child with belt when they express any dissent when they want to fuck up the system. Therefore, drinking out in a bar like a real cowboy where nobody really gives a shit about you is exactly the experience I was looking for. A fresh new start. And if the list have scared you even to the most minor degree, congratulations, you are un étranger.

A friend told me that immigration is in the shitter in canada right now, so it may be a blessing in disguise that I did not choose to immediately stay in Vancouver. Some guy online has precisely described this action as Geopolitical arbitrage, whereby you live in a cheaper place with increased cash in your pocket, or mental health. :]

I have not yet gave up on my plans to own a maison in Canada where I can smoke cigarettes on a conservatory, chilling with plants, admiring the iron art and stars, et cetera. I wanted to be the professional foreigner. But this depends on my ability to pass a certain French language test. 

If by act of miracle, I should came out victorious, I may stand a chance to return to that god forsaken land november 2025. So I have enrolled myself in a week-day french class in an heriotic search to boost my rubbish french..

懷舊

深夜 莫名睡不著

起來煮了一碗泡麵 倒了15cc Hibiki，熟悉的泥炭味，但是這次我最後放棄純飲，直接兌了可樂進去，我是個粗俗的美國人。

爐頭燒焦的氣息讓我想起3333深夜的晚餐，和室友在三點彈吉他，於是我做了一碗和那個時候一模一樣的泡菜麵，聊寄幽情。

我以為每天吃維生素D，去健身房就可以不再抑鬱，但是我還是不免為人生感到焦慮。

吃碗泡麵我打開了美劇，開始在陽台抽煙。有時候人生會一眼望到盡頭，就像在這種飽暖思淫慾的時刻，我害怕這樣的人生。我努力的學習著成為一個普通人，但是我覺得很恐懼，過去的精神思潮正在排斥新時代移植在我身上的器官；而現實已經不存在的觀念正在像幻肢一樣隱隱作痛。這並非不可忍受，但是他們無時不刻提醒我，我不是這個時代的人。每天行走在去上課的路上，空氣中總感覺缺失了什麼東西，但是我又無法舉出到底是什麼，而偶爾凝視老照片或者聽歌的時候卻覺得，那是屬於我的時代。

過去的經歷讓我成為一個吊在岩壁中間的攀登者，掉下去一定會死，但是也能一眼望到頂。很久沒有下象棋了，曾經以為這是我的愛好，但是萬千考試和作業讓我棋藝生疏。或許我的棋藝本來就不好，學業只是我不想承認自我欺騙的藉口。

明天究竟要如何渡過？我每日都坐在教室，似乎聽懂了，題目又一道都寫不出。我想，如果沒有外界因素，不需要考慮賺學費甚麼的雞巴問題，每天早上有人給我端咖啡，大概我是能做點學術的，但是我的智商應該也就只能單線程工作了，若是還想繼續現在這種生活方式，我不能要求太多。家裡畢竟就是靠我賺錢了，我不能選擇自己的生活方式，c'est la vie…

五點了，窗外飄起了小雪，我不應該思考這些問題。想要在社會上生存下去，我必須殺人，我必須成為一個麻木的人。

衝他X的 Let's fucking go...

學習到學不下去，文字已經在我眼前開始解離了。

抽煙已經無法 calm down the nerves了，耳機的indie音樂開始變速了。

學到產生幻覺了。

但是即便如此，這個學期，我也必須從死人坑裡面爬出去！

為什麼大學是死人坑呢？因為每次我都像是演員，需要表演一個大學生和人討論我根本不喜歡的課題而且要裝的激情四射，然後其他人和死人一樣不會說話。早就厭倦了學習不喜歡的課題， 但是因為我是如此厭倦，我的演技非常精湛，別人都認為我非常喜歡這種課題。實在是不應該學習理科，或者是進入這間大學。高中的兄弟，希望你不會介懷我的背叛，沒有兄弟在一起打團戰，這個學不可謂不艱難。

即便我只想躺在床上聽歌，即便我想回到2000年重新來過，想和朋友坐在家裡在白色的mac裡面寫題目，而不是跑到學校去看一群人對著發光的螢幕不知道在上課的時候像OCD一樣滑來滑去，they don't even talk to each other... 

我床頭掛了一副百慕達的水彩，那是一個陽光明媚的地方。有棕櫚樹和白色的別墅，翡翠藍的海水拍打著沙灘。多希望在那裡躺著。在那裡，我會幸福嗎？

Study till I can't.  Text starts to dissociate in front of my eyes.

Smoking can't already calm down my nerves, indie music starts to drift away in my haedphone.

Study to hallucinate. 

But even though this is the case, I am aware of the need to crawl out of this live burial pit.

Why my university gotta be a llive burial pit? I am like an actor that needs to play dead inside such pit. No, more like playing someone that is alive. Discussing a topic that I feel not passionate about but somehow acted like I would with other people in discussion. But since I am so freaking tired of doing this, my acting skill has become exceptional, and people will believe that I am in fact passionate. Shit, I should have never went into this college, I hope my brothers in High School is not mindful of my betryal when we went into diff universities but said we are in the shit together. This is not a teamfight, more like 1v9. Heard he is doing rough as well but fuck, cest la vie. 

Even though all I wanted to do to waste my life is to lay down on a bed and listen to songs. 

Even though all I wanted to do is to go back to year 2000 and start over, writing shitty codes on a mac with my bro, instead of going to a school to watch 200 people doing OCD like impulsive internet browsing in the middle of a lecture without even talking to people. 

There is a watercolour of Bermuda on my bedroom wall. Lovely palm trees and white villa. Sunny place, gentle blue waves ebbing off the white sands. I wish I could be laying there right now. Will I felt a little bit happier than this? 

insane playlist that accurately reflects my 100 hours of listening in 2024: 

Piano Practicing with my cousin

Cousin is a piano god. 

While claiming to be a pianist, I have only studied for five years. 

In 2023, I think I can confidently say that I can play Nocturne op.9 no.1 or Nocturne op. 20 by Chopin. (yes, not no.2, even if I like it, it felt very cliche to hear it)

My cousin worship a guy called animenz on YouTube, and he plays a bunch of pop anime songs with intense difficulty. While I watched some Marasy in middle school, I mostly focused on classical and jazz (my skill is really trash to start with).

Hence, I was fucking shocked when I hear him play La Campanella and Hungarian Rhapsody (this one not so familiar) by Liszt and a bunch of other crazy shit. 

I had potent teacher (works in the same institute of Yundi Li's professor), but it is a fucking shame that I discontinued due to financial reasons at the time. After going abroad, I have been thrown into another life. 

Guess I need to practice more in 2024. Maybe start a YouTube channel or some shit, I think together we could play better than most entertainers on YouTube, maybe not so much as who earn a living with it but pretty solid if we want to shred some not technical pieces. 

I reckon that is my goal 2024 apart from GTFO from university and navigate the complexities of this year. 

Oh to be young, and feel age's keen sting

Nostalgia has been hitting me at 2 am.

I have compiled a list of my music playlist I have listened during middle school that has been lost due to the shut down of music player X. This one perticularily is the common songs that me and a long time friend T has been listening. 

Both me and T went to the same primary school, and was remained his only close friends. T has been picked off by instructors at the school due to his heightened artistic taste and his distaste in general academics. He is one of the most artistic person I have ever seen in my life, and it is truly a sad thing that society don't see that.

We have been told from an early age that if you want a life of eternal starving and panhandling beside the street, you should become an artist at rive gauche. I, even from an early age, respectifully beg to disagree.

The school that we went to are located beside a giant danchi apartment that elevated itself from the school, and it has been fenced off by a weak edge. If you want the most convenient access to the Danchi, instead of going out the school gate, and then turning right and then turn right into the Danchi gate, me, T, and other student who are "previleged" to live beside the school would go to the field instead, climb a 2m wall and saddle accross that fence. This way we not only save 10 minutes walking, but also able to bypass the school inspection gate where they check you attire, pioneer organisation badge (common to the ones north koreans mandatorily wore on their collar), etc. 

I had a monthly spending of 1 dollar. The price to purchase a badge is 50 cents, and before I knew it, I had purchased 10 from the school security in order not to get retribution from "unsatisfactory conduct". And then, we started a 180 day streak wall saddling with T every morning and after lunch break. Fuck the badge. 

T is a friend of mine because we share the same music and film taste. I have watched countless movie from Ghibli studio and our favourite one is porco rosso. We watched it together on his PS2 in his living room that always smelt like expensive santalwood and full of African masks. Coming back to think about it, maybe we were the only individuals that doesn't feel like an foreigner in a state where individuality is brutally punished. 

After graduation, I went into a even more restrictive system, T went to another local middle school before ending up in USA, first wisconsin and then california. I, too, came to the land of freedom in the north. 

We played GTA 5 in high school, but it could hardly replace the feeling of doing illegal shit together with a physical touch. T is not a fan of social media despite he doesn't need to consider the feeling of his boss when posting stuff. Whenever he posts, it is always artistic film camera photo of him travelling. Never himself but always in the vantage point of an observer, with lethal aesthetics, reminiscenct of Magnum photos style, or Wang Kar Wai. 

When people repost shit memes or pseudo science, we continued to post music from Stevie Wonder, Davie Bowie, the turtles, and indie shit. We damn well know probably nobody gives a shit in this numb world but we sometimes post regardless because I have people like T exists in this world, and I know that he would understand. 

I have no idea how T looks like right now. I know he has got a Italian city car and he drives on the weekend to take film pictures. I know that he dwells in LA, somewhere. My last impression is him in middle school. Slightly stubby, mediterranean curled hair, and very well-delievered diss. My only complement to that impression is the music he shares. Sometimes when he shares music that I have previously listened and have been associated with my own memory, it is hard to relate to his seele. I feel like he is a part of me, and I wonder if he thinks the same. 

Brother T, are you doing alright? I always think of you on 3am. Hope to visit you soon. Ain't time a cruel thing, it has been some 10+ years... 

盜版服裝，國際物流，和開飛機

在搬進親戚家後，我加入了她一年一度的網購送貨。

在中國網站購買物品，送到中國可疑的物流公司和其他人同樣可疑的物品打包，再通過不可描述的方式運進加拿大。曾經聽說fedex的飛機有激光反制導系統，不知道類似的東西是不是通過類似的瘋狂方式運輸的。

中國的網購體驗和西方文學裏的俄羅斯黑市一模一樣：廉價但暴力，魚龍混雜但是趣味盎然。

我曾經買過盜版Photoshop，英雄聯盟TFT自動走棋macro，被物流公司偷走的高檔電腦配件，7美元的600頁SAT考題，鈦合金螺絲刀（出奇的好用），丹麥軍隊給服裝工廠下單的潛水艇識別帽，手機的觸控熒幕，還有一堆神奇的東西。

先前在加拿大，不免見到有人在市中心繁華地段拎着十幾個裝滿衣服的袋子。中國人只是淺顯的認爲是替人購買，但是他也有可能是服裝工廠的。

先在Loro Piana買一件一萬塊的毛衣，然後寄回工廠。工廠的裁縫把毛衣的縫線全部拆開，再攤平在紙上，就獲得了Loro Piana的sewing pattern。然後再從不知道什麼地方弄來一模一樣的cashmere毛線或是merino wool，就能批量作出一模一樣的衣服。

而工廠，則更進一步，利用中國的人工成本，直接讓你在購買的時候發尺寸，叫裁縫現場從無數sewing pattern裏面裁一件定製的毛衣。

又或者，奢侈品公司X在爲了壓榨利潤在中國某間有生產實力的工廠下單了500條大劇院蠶絲方巾，因爲直接拿到設計圖，工廠在生產500件以後生產了50000件X公司的方巾，然後以一百分之一的價格售賣。

相同的手段並不僅限服裝，我小時候看到的大多數裝幀精美的印象派書籍，拍賣行畫作鑑賞，或是任何不是中文的書也有可能是相同的方式出來的。2005年，自宅附近尚有物理存在的黑市，售賣各種被政府禁止的印刷物（多是藝術相關的），而我能看到他們，只是因爲賣家，政府審查人員，和印刷廠員工都不懂英文。

小時候，也有在高速上看到停下的軍車，上面的士兵把運輸的95式軍用光學望遠鏡偷出來售賣。雖然我後面見識了蔡司的製造水平，但是那時候的高級紅色鍍膜，狙擊槍上才配備的KillFlash等部件實在是讓我開了眼。

如果只是在購物網站搜索“絲巾”，出來的大多是本土品牌的土的掉渣的二流設計，但是如果在電腦軟件分類搜索關鍵詞，便會跳出來一堆公司X絲巾，製程堪稱專業。

總之，雖然我現在已經有能力購買原價公司X絲巾，而且我也不喜歡盜版衣服，因爲我並不喜歡公司X之類的設計風格，可是如果在中國行走，中國人卻又總是很在意一個人有沒有穿公司X之類的衣服，而如果一個人有公司X的衣服那辦事基本上別人不敢找麻煩，而如果沒有公司X的衣服，連停車都會被保安騷擾，所以我用400美金定了大概6000美金的東西。

啊，真是奇妙的黑市購物體驗。我喜歡中國。

藍色地球，新年雜談和煙火

藍色的星球在靜謐中被籠罩，陽光從地球背面射出，淺藍色的大氣層像新娘的薄紗一樣環繞在城市的星火上空。

新年做了什麼呢？在朋友家淺嘗了一下拿破崙干邑，然後又試了Grand Marnier，然後回家把冰箱裏剩下的yellow tail shiraz紅酒拿出來喝了。

在新年前8分鐘的時候打開電視，看完了西雅圖太空針的直播倒數。因爲溫哥華自從2018年就沒有燃放過煙火。

西雅圖的無人機操控者確實有水平。雖然作爲中國人，無人機display已經是幾年前的科技，也沒有預料到會像現在這麼火，但是真正的區別還是在於內容的呈現。

然後在新年過五分鐘的時候聽了崔健的一無所有。

在一點的時候打開youtube點開了我認知中最phonk的重低音開始抽菸。

今年，我沒有堅守英國人的傳統，沒有聽黑膠唱片的Auld Lang Syne，或是跳交臂舞，但是今年我感到前所未有的對未來的憧憬。

My mother

A sophisticated woman with insurmountable taste in utilitarian gears that cuts through mundane life like a lethal scalpel in a shrewd doctor’s hands.

Much as I would like to object, I did proudly inherited her style to take no bs from the society and remain an ardent advocate of human connection to nature. 

One would mock 99% of the time of her confidence in human kindness or her distaste towards the brutal power of capital, but there exist the 1% time where one was casually navigating the complexities of social media tomfoolery, enjoying the shitshow from some clown know-it-all passing through second handed information to pretend they have some professionalism in some field they mostly took pictures to exchange cheap likes, but knowing that a true connoisseur in your family would probably give you some true insights from years of experience battling the cold, harsh winter in the northern tundra, that is where the appreciation kicks in. It is the South African level of hardcore shit she is offering, with a coolness in her technical expertise that distain the mob effortlessly, and she does not give a shit.

I have truly came to appreciate the skill to search vintage equipment on ebay when I have already know where to look for.

Let it be said as such. Going to spent more time exploring with you mother, please stay young forever.

On future, on 2024, and on life

 半夜 在尼古丁和indie music的作用下打开成绩单网站 一遍遍看着还没出分的两门课

我不知道大学的年度审核是什么结果，亦不知道我是否能成功申请毕业，但是如果我挂了这两门课，我大概就会被踢出去

成长在中国，我的出身告诉我我是无神论者，但是我残废的大脑告诉我，在智力解决不了的成绩面前，我应该成为有神论者，和17世纪的英国海员一样开始集体祈祷。

大学里有很多擅长考试的人，也有很多热爱他们科目的人，更多的还是有失败的资本的人。我三者都没有。

如果过了这两门课，我就能顶着学校的限制强行在2024年毕业，衣锦还乡，告诉阔别的家人我混得很好，即使我一直假装我混得很好。

毕业看起来那么近，却又那么远。

如果我成功了，我会抑制住当场撕毁文凭的冲动，在商场一掷千金，进行无意义的消费，再醉倒在深夜的街头吹风，用手机扩音器大声播放独立摇滚，买一包烟，但是抽一口就扔掉。买一张贵到他妈的无意义的机票，选择他妈的tom ford西装骑哈雷机车回去看看外婆，虽然一切看起来都等同的无意义，但是我祈盼这个版本的无意义的到来。

如果被大学踢出去了，又如何呢？转校，从头再来，又是三年的时间从生命中删除了，我不知道我还能再来几次，只不过我已经为了这傻逼文凭删除了四年生命，再多几年又何妨，人生无法退票。青春在和官僚无尽的斗争中惨败下风，一具苍老的灵魂在年轻的躯壳内挥霍时间。我像是一个尝试抓住蝴蝶的老人。

感情方面，2023无显要进展。主要还是他妈的累了，找不到一个可以一起边喝酒边痛骂弗洛伊德是脑残的人，换成2019的我，还能满腔热诚的解释他的道理，然后再开始痛骂为什么他的学说是彻底的自娱自乐。但是现在，我已经颓废了，我看不到这么做的意义，如果我想这么做我他妈就应该成为小学老师。诚然，也许我如此鄙视意识和她带来的不可避免的痛苦，我或可随便委身一个妹子，苟且偷生，但是这么做和逛青楼有什么区别？

给临终病房的人希望是残酷的做法。我会继续保护作为存在主义者的基本素质，接受世界的荒谬。2024年，我会继续战斗。

On Science Fiction

我曾夢想成爲一名作家。

也許我淺薄的知識和不屑於沉溺肥皂愛情小說的理想註定我會成爲窮困潦倒的社保領取者，但是我至少曾經是一個有夢想的小孩。

在蘇聯式樣的公寓樓底下有一間圖書館，我常在那裏虛度光陰。那是個吊着慘白熒光燈的逼仄小房，靠市立圖書館的館藏勉強獻世。在屋外一個巨型鐵殼機器裏輸入代碼，便可以看書從巨大的傳送帶中傳出。那裏好像沒有圖書管理員，借還書都由一輛江鈴全順卡車的牛奶盒子裏被運到機器，閱覽室只是一個充滿過氣情愛雜誌的小房間。進門後穿過幾層書架便有一張麻將桌，面對巨大的落地玻璃窗。在那裏我曾與科幻小說展開深度且美好的交流。雖然涉世未深，那不啻是我在夜深人靜時不免回憶的快樂時光。2014年，人類對於未來的幻想已經呈現腦死亡狀，因此科幻小說區和葬儀社一樣無人問津（圖書館不也是嗎？）。因此，我十分享受在塵土味的書架間的隱私感。

那是面對俗世的叛逆。

彼時，我曾喜歡一本名叫科幻世界的雜誌，上面常有犀利的短篇小說。或許是和我幻想中一樣的窮苦作家所做，但是他們的鬼奇之才着實令我震驚。其中對機器叛亂和時間旅行的概念讓我對科學產生興趣。我意識到這個流派和注重家庭倫理描寫的婆媳文學不同，其立意多是對人類的未來進行嚴肅思考，並且以通俗文字展現出來。

與H.G. Wells的火星人超現實童話不同，我更喜歡的流派是“五十年代的現代設計公寓，大玻璃窗，丹麥傢俱，巨大的鍍鉻白色飛行器尖嘯着從城市間飛過”的流派。這不同於賽博朋克永遠下雨的都會，充滿着人類的可能性。

我常常在回憶裏站在年幼的我身邊，看他頂着社會主義的髮型閱讀人類對美學和真相的無盡追求。我常幻想，如果他拿的不是iPhone 4S，而是個黑膠唱機，那盤唱片一定會被反覆聆聽磨得稀爛。

在經常使用的音樂軟件（姑且稱此軟件X）在公司戰爭落敗後，前天還在啓動頁面放披頭四海報的音樂軟件宣告了滅亡。真是遺憾的事情，十幾歲的我生活中唯一的愛好便是滑X的評論區，先是驚訝有人會和我有完全相同的音樂品味，然後看看冷門歌曲裏面的人如何一抒現代社會的存在主義危機文學，最後點進喜歡的評論的用戶profile，下載他所有的歌單，點讚，發一段善意的話語。在平庸的世界裏，倒閉的音樂軟件X和科幻小說是爲數不多給我歸屬感的事物。

X是我第一個充錢的軟件，在銀行賬戶只有三位數的時候，用着盜版Windows玩盜版上古卷軸，盜版iPhone軟件，甚至穿盜版球鞋的我不但給了120元支持正版音樂，還買了鄧麗君的專輯。

X的倒閉公告一出，網友在宣告自己成爲音樂難民的時候，爭相下載了他們的歌單，我卻只有在服務器關閉的最後一個小時前單曲循環山口百惠。突然間，X就刷不出內容了。

那之後的故事並不是一個good ending，音樂難民涌入了中國的商業音樂軟件Q和N。Q是一個依靠坑蒙拐騙的應用，你可以感受到聽音樂不是產品經理日常生活的一部分。

N是一個兒童廁所，充滿了涉世未深的人的囈語和流行音樂。更爛的是，N和Soundcloud很像，但是N裏面的獨立音樂人曲子更像是高中生在酒後嘗試強迫他女朋友聽的rap demo。

無論Q還是N都無法在曲庫上找到我之前聽的音樂。在X倒閉後，只有之前下載的音樂可以聽了。在加拿大唯一的中國好朋友Eric和我一樣是X的難民。我們都有純正的英國口音。他有2100首下載的歌，我有270多首，裏面我們大概有個50首一樣的歌。在他的破德國車上用藍牙打開X播放音樂的時候我常調侃Eric和我一樣有着白人老頭的聽歌品味。他不言。Eric是一個傳統的人，他依然使用X倒閉前的手機，裏面有X這個軟件是他不換手機的原因之一吧...

也許當舊時代的我們都嘗試對未來充滿憧憬，也許今天的世界不會是如此。也許我們會是一個熱愛和平，追求美學和科技的種族。