I might have been on the verge of asberger syndrome. Since I was a baby, my family find it difficult to call my attention, to speak to me, to tell me don’t cry. I was either silent or keep knocking every second with tears. My granny thought I was either deaf or blind. I never meant to be annoying. My dormie complaint about the same incurable indifference of me. But the fact is, I am too far from being indifferent. My inner life is another planet. But I don’t know what is between me and others. Adulthood has changed me a little bit. I can talk like a polite dude. I can get to know people, however hard it is for me. Oh no, to be fair, the real cause of any change is mom and the Buddha, who tell me: it’s OK. And, the biggest challenge for them, I think, is that they also try to make me a better person. How to be myself while pursing a better self? I once asked my mom. She didn’t reply. Now I think, it is all about how I could respect myself more, how to live with less guilt, and more love.

Mom, how did you make it, believing that even without a single word, you know I miss you?


Of solitude is this glory


I love – when winter comes, the sky is engraved with bare twigs, like notes that have long been waiting for a fair spare stave to jump in. And that smoke permeating the night sings a song exactly the same, which recalls the wanderer wrapped in a sheer sheet of light for me. Of solitude is this glory.

via Photo Challenge: Solitude

p.s. and I like Gjertsen’s entry



In the end of each alley, there’s a paradox,
Into which if one falls, it’s a garden.

note: Madhyamaka philosophy, Alice in Wonderland. I might be totally wrong, but these two worlds of ideas resonate with each other in such a beautiful way! Despite of the seemingly logical approach of Nāgārjuna, his appeal for the absurdity of ontological language eschew the possibility to reach the insight with reasoning. Alice, meanwhile, found a smile without face 🙂