“Come here, come here Chach.” The boy called his buddy–the 8 year-old yorkshire–for the last time. He remembered the dog running towards him, then the world collapsed.
The dark cloud invading into the house, under the roof in their living room. He is so afraid that his sister would be woke up. She was writing for three days without sleeping, trying to finish her new book. He looked upstairs, the cloud did not spread.
“I’ll lose my family!” He snapped into the darkness.
“Are you sure this is your family?” A freezing sound floated in the air.
When you will be reading this letter, your father and I should already left. I cannot tell when we will be back, neither can I tell where we are going. There is so many mysteries in this world that no one could really explain. Among them, the most difficult puzzle, I’m afraid, is a person’s heart. We really love you and your sister. We believe Emily will take care of you and the house. You will see the truth once day, without confused on what it should be or whether it is it. And that should be the time we will be together again.
The letter flashed through his mind, just for one second, then faded away. It was already five years ago. Its hard to believe that time passes like a thunder lacerating the sky.
He can feel his sister still alive. She won’t have any idea about what is going on here. She is probably sleeping in bed or circling around her characters.
Only his world is collapsing; only his words are shifting. It is going to rain in the living room. He kept the letter away from Emily for so long. He always wonders why she never asked about them, and now he knows.
Just read Freud’s example on the woman and the caviare. It suddenly strikes me that what if every tiny wish we had in our life has been taken care of, has been fulfilled as much as possible? What if I will have a partner who concerns about all of my wishes and desires and try to satisfy me in the largest extent? Will this relationship turns out to be healthy? Will I gain a psychological wholesome in a distinguish level? Or I will become extremely fragile, having difficulties to build up an immune system that helping to defend attacks from other aspects of real life?
To push it further, is”romantic relationship” a pseudo term? On one hand, protecting unconsciousness requires great efforts on reasoning and analysis, it is hard to follow “feeling” all the time; on another hand, not considering unconsciousness cause a relationship flaw, you do not know this person well-how you are suppose to say love if you do not know another person?
“You are going to have to learn the kind of hope that makes things history. Otherwise there would be no good hope for your own grand truths and no good truths for your own grandchildren.”–16
“I wish I was old. I was tried of being so young, so stupidly forgetful. I was tired of having to be anything at all. I felt like the Internet, full of every kind of information but none of it mattering more than any of it, and all of its little links like thin white roots on a broken plant dug out of the soil, lying drying on its side.”–23
“Into thin air, to the nothing that was there, with the river our witness, we said yes. We said we did. We said we would.”–151
I never played baseball but my friend does.
Something very precious and metaphorical is hidden in the gardenias sent to Freud.
How to be appreciated? How to pretend to be smart.
There should be no lies fetching your curiosity.
In my fantasy, you still hold me in the aging 4D space
whispering the sweetest words,
crying out the most emotional mumbling.
At the end of this trip,
you are still with me, and
I’m still with you.
Roses faded thousands of times,
waves washed all over bright silver sand.
Time goes on and on, yet
it just a second past echoing lovers’ heart beat.