Weak Opinions #17

Talking about grit is rather similar to talking about faith: you have it when you have it; you don’t when you don’t. I’m not sure how useful is that.

Weak Opinions #16

Sometimes getting things done can be much harder than figuring out the best way to do them. Creators get things done, and some of the luckier and more diligent ones become thinkers and figure out the best way to do. And that makes all the difference in the world.

Subway Metroism

Shall I compare thee to Peking’s subway,
Thus I began my usual mockery,
which, this time, was interrupted
by him saying, “it’s Shakespeare
so it should be metro, not subway.

That actually makes sense,
but would break my puns.
I smiled back affirmative,
liking this Britishman more
like a friend than as a colleague.

The subway-metroism stays
in my mind and never fades away.
I wonder how the bard would
say about modern times—
he probably would cry instead.


This Windy Night

This windy night
smells like marijuana,
despite the snowy rain
and the rainy snow after.

Her mild annoyance
is hiding behind her face.
She lies on my bed reading,
flowing gently into the night.

This hollow apartment
is a pipe of secondhand
smoking. Anyone, anywhere
can choke us to the brim.

Only one more month,
she just said, one more
month and we’re gone,
like forever, for real.

I’m sitting by her side,
staying silent and sad,
and writing this down.
Yes, we’ll be gone.


Dry Dream

A dream of
disturbing sense:
The girl I just made love
to doesn’t have to exist at all.
I gradually realized waking up.
She was naked and had no face,
her long hair flows dark to the feet.
We were in a mini pool made of wood.
I was on top of her, and she under.
My hands between her arms,
And my knees leg-stuck.
Supposed to orgasm,
But I got confused:
Who was the girl,
And who was I?
Was she me?
And I her?

Weak Opinions #14

You always find it hard to estimate the rush hour traffic: buses, trains, subways and flights. You know a little bit about the chaos theory and the butterfly effect. You know you can’t predict precisely. But when you commute long enough, you may, at a certain time point of enlightenment, get the illusion that you’ve learned to grab the rhyme of it, that you actually could take advantage of the seemingly unpredictable and thus avoid being squeezed by all your fellow commuters. You even know you’re wrong about it, yet still insist you’ve gained certain intangible insights: a sense of prophetic awareness to the future. And you end up late for work and/or home. — On Commuting

Weak Opinions #13

The reminiscent notion of he or she was here brings bitter warmth to your heart ‘cos your self-opinionating memory renders the past from mundane reality to wishful delusion. 

Weak Opinions #12

I love book because it burns my mind. I love sex because it burns my body. I love music because it burns my soul. I love science because it burns what I know. We will watch them burn.