“Spiritual devastation is more likely to come from an enemy with a smiling face than from one whose countenance exudes suspicion and hate.” – Neil Postman


In two hours of time, I provided a relatively succinct explanation to the reoccurring, reminiscent thoughts that have dictated my life for the past 1.5 years. A switch. A shift. A shit. And it all began with . . .

One day my friend, LL, texted me to meet up with her because she went through a two-day period of what she claims was “an emotional roller coaster.” A hyperbole much? She is (was) with a Law Student, whom she says “treats her very well [financially and domestically],” yet there have been multiple, if not consistent, times where she would say that he demeans her, insults her, and views her as inferior. Their decision to stay together stems from an awkward dynamic, which still makes me shutter. The blunt fact is that she has absolutely no affection, no love, and at minimal, baseline lust for this kid. She is merely with him out of conveniency, out of fear to meet other potentials near the end of our undergraduate career; he is precisely a safety net at the moment. I am adamant she will leave him once he is not longer of use to her in the appropriate time and place. Fortunately, her feelings are mutually reciprocated by this future lawyer. They are in an open, dating relationship.

Recently, due to excessive intake of pharmaceutical substances that affected her hormonal levels, she snooped on him. Yes, she got ahold of his phone and computer passwords and looked through every single outlet of leaking information that she laid her eyes on. Some of these channels led her to find out about his past ex and how he deliberately took himself off a pedestal of royal hierarchy to convince this woman he loved her. LL has always described him as a stern, rational, and argumentative type A that refuses to discuss about his sensitive side, those involving feelings and deeper emotions. And after a peek at his history, she can see how this particular experience transformed him that way. At the end, LL told me she felt more empowered, and that she aged years. The private information she got, allowed her to believe she could somehow be more internally manipulative to obtain domination in their personal interactions. But does that really interest me? Not really. So what does?

I thought she was wasting her time and I continually think the same. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t care to spent countless hours to find out about someone’s past who not only do I not see as a significant other, but also is someone I lack of future with. After exposing all her devious trades, we made further progress and conversed about once upon a time being in not-so-ideal relationships jointly.

LL is currently one of the only people that understands the works of my mind. She has been there since day one when I met Ferguson and she has not ceased to hear about how my life has done a 180 because of him. A change in how I think, how I convey myself, and how my persona has altered since Ferguson and I “broke up” was always apparent to me before, but it has not been expressed in a solemn manner. When LL talked to me about her stream of dramatic epiphanies, it finally hit me.

Frequently, I’ve noticed that people with varying degrees of separation have mentioned slightly mocking remarks to me. For example, they told me I’ve developed a syndrome of RBF (Resting Bitch Face), which honestly, to be fair, I do do it ever so purposefully on occasions. However, the comments that disturb me, are “dark,” “negative,” “sad,” and “cynical.” Do these adjectives sound remotely familiar of anyone? LL confirmed them.

To say the least, LL and I have collectively agreed that Ferguson stole my personality, my Happy-Go-Lucky default. Who was I, if not the majority of the time a bright, bubbly, and joyful burst of sunshine, showering positivity to all those around me? Ferguson, would concur, but now, I think I would give him a run for his money. Though I could never see him fully adapting my old identity, I certainly didn’t think through my decays he would pick some up too. He is not the man I once knew, not in familiarity or closeness. Whether I call it intuition, or he calls it sensing, there is more of a shadow of me that follows him than he would like to admit. My last encounter with him was amazingly smooth. I can’t recall any point where I thought our conversation was lacking in substance, in meaning, or in flow. Perhaps, we simply had too much to catch up on after our departure and going to Guatemala for the both us solidified more of a connection. Perceptive, I always was, and will continually be. I wrote about this in a preceding post and I think I already knew, or always knew. But now, I am confident he is more of me than he is of himself since we departed. He casts it in his writing, with his aura, through his smile.

Our exchange of letters, of ideas, of beliefs, of knowledge, of language, of bodies, of affection, of understanding, was all real. It has never been more real and I’m relieved that I had the opportunity to give you Happy-Go-Lucky before she went away.


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Bet On Me

“I’m betting on you.”

Today, I had one of the most meaningful conversations with someone I barely knew and have only met once prior to our scheduled meeting this morning.

Dr. K is a local dermatologist with the persona of a respectable father figure. He hand-picked and hired me from a pool of competitive and selective applicants to be one of his dermatology assistants for the upcoming summer and following year. I am humble, beyond grateful, and currently in a sea of sparse thoughts.

The dilemma stems from uncertainty of irreversible decisions that are not in my control. If fortunate enough through the works of God and fate themselves, I will have not given up this job in vain.

Uncertain Tenesmus

It’s been quite some time since I’ve jotted down my feelings about anything, frankly. It’s been a case of what PS would call, “verbal tenesmus,” and I’m afraid I’ve been wanting to borrow that for way too long.

Is it a constrain on time? A lack of motivation? Or have I simply just lost the ability to express myself in a fluid and efficient manner? …Did that ever exist in the first place?

As I regretfully lag back to the days where I would spit out hundreds of words on a Microsoft Word Document in a couple of hours because time is of essence when you are in the midst of emotional aversion. If I had a comparable analogy, it would be as if the neurons in my head were making synapses unhindered. I didn’t worry about not having enough stimuli for the sodium and potassium channels in my system to create action potentials as I typed away, equivalent to an artist having their pulchritudinous muse in front of them as each brush stroke dabs on perfectly, forming their masterpiece with no distinction of a prior blank canvas.

I’ve been spending enormous amounts of time in the library pondering about uncertainty, as well as passively studying for my upcoming MCAT. Doubt is quite new (still) to me to say the least. However, it has taken its fair toll on me for the past two years and I’m not sure we are on good terms yet. I question my streamline of thought when I attempt to separate the difference between”needing certainty” and “uncertain needs.” Those two do not have to converge, but can they? Should they? If they do, what am I actually certain or not certain about?

Ah, you tell me that it could very well be an illusion, similar to an evil possession of the mind. There is a component of me that wants to believe what I desire, in this case certainty, is a necessity. Though, I can’t for any concrete reason find that to be valid. I simply know, genuinely want, to be certain that I am certain.

But don’t we all?

~Be it passion that you seek, love that you desire, or faith that you believe, should you never encounter a leap of hesitation to follow through.

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“I believe there are techniques of the human mind whereby, in its dark deep, problems are examined, rejected or accepted. Such activities sometimes concern facets a man does not know he has. How often one goes to sleep troubled and full of pain, not knowing what causes the travail, and in the morning a whole new direction and a clearness is there, maybe the results of the black reasoning. And again there are mornings when ecstasy bubbles in the blood, and the stomach and chest are tight and electric with joy, and nothing in the thoughts to justify it or cause it.” – John Steinbeck.

The Drive Back From the Hospital: “Read this not that”


One of the leading principals in economics is Adam Smith’s theory in the Wealth of Nations, the idea that in unrestricted markets, the “invisible hand” should be denoted as the primary guide towards a state of affairs that would be beneficial for all.

Our generation is in a gray area where we are moving beyond what is expected of the blue collar worker. Words such as creativity, inspiration, dreams mean more to us than a contract with a high salary that demands us to commit the 9 to 5 hours daily. We thrive to evolutionize, we want to be the next big thing that everyone is talking about. A world where no one says no to your ludicrous ideas because they don’t understand. They do, but acceptance is unsettling. Do you realize what we’re doing? We’re manifesting hope. We are hope. 

Maybe this is where we’re suppose to go, a greater realization is taking course. And we are the ones in control. We were designed to break societal barriers, refining what “living” was originally suppose to entail.

For ages, the majority have been motivated by greed and profit maximization, and through generic models, implanting a set course that was programmed to achieve ultimate utility.

Deviators there are. And so they grow.

A trade-off between efficiency and happiness has commenced. It’s colorless and tasteless. But it’s coming. Take note.

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“For how would I understand that I doubt and that I desire, that is, I lack something and that I am not wholly perfect, unless there were some idea in me of a more perfect being, by comparison with which I might recognize my defects?”

Fascinating read. I want to be a philosophy major.


愛情是要挑一個理解你的過去, 更加要相信你的未來, 以及包容你過往的人.

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It’s a long journey, but if we’re committed, if we really want this, the excretion of negativity is absolutely critical to achieve excellence in a demanding, morally and psychologically distressing field.


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To Flower

“When a stakeholder of human life goes through a cycle of leveraging and deleveraging of mild to moderate intensity, it must forgive the system that leveraged it in the first place then modify and strengthen itself in order to prepare for the cycle again.”


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