the little wooden gobbet.

Thinking of HY on bed. I want to tell her how I was sorry and grateful to her generosity to me. Last night I found the little wooden gobbet she gave me before I went to the UK. I wish I could have done something about the pain I brought upon her. Why didn't she reply me anymore? just because of her boy friend? May god help, I just want to make some compensation toward my guilt at my early age; she is a very good-hearted person. I simply can't believe she would just let me go. If there's a chance, I will unwaveringly contact her again.

Her voice and words still are swirling around my brain now, "At the very beginning I hate you, I hate you went away irresponsibly." But eventually, she forgives me. I wish could we could be friend. -- it didn't come out. We lost contact. Now HY, I know you will not have a chance, to read my words, but I really tell you that I want to see you again - there's nothing to do with love and whatsoever, I want to compensate, I want to thank you if god allows us to meet again. I wish you all very best in your HKDSE. -- try to get into university... although it would be a hard hurdle... then you'll have a better chance and shape a better off life... Why didn't come out? I could have help you with your english in summer. May be not a lot, may not not much, may be useless, but bestow me the chance.

Future and Format.

Her voice and the depressing music, accompanying me every single, solitude night. I don't even know, or remember who the singer was.

There is nothing to worry about. The future is elusive - just as what Edward Thomas describes in his poems usually. You can never tell what the future holds. Someone said (I can hardly remember his name): yes future, I've seen it, actually it is quite similar to present. To be more precise - future is encompassing our emotion toward uncertainty. It can be expectation and excitement, or hope and horror. It is an episode which has just yet to get under way on the stage of life. We are born to obsessed with the idea with future. Because future is generous, it graciously bestows us a boundless room to imagine, to create, albeit it is not material and tangible. It allows us to be a little god, writing our own page of genesis. I suppose that to be a perpetual charm and cheer of future, because there is everything in front of us, and there is nothing ahead of us. therefore, why bother it?

How about the past? I haven't had a idea yet. I will write it once I've an idea.

And one more question: do you believe that there is a pattern in human history?

A break and a plan.

After working for few hours, I gave myself a break. Chocolate on bread with a glass of Vodka Tonic.

I've set up a plan. I found that I was too pointless to finish the stuff in time. It is a tough plan, it would, I hope, get me into Law school. A couple of history essays weekly, brabrabra. Stick to the plan, and strive the the best result.

Reading "In defense of History"

Reading the "in defense of history" has overturned almost all my beliefs and values, the disorientation of the historian throughout past and present moves from the books to me. Fuck me. I can't figure out what the hell is happening around us. The world is too complicated to predict. I would love to give prediction. Reasoning is a problem. I wish I could be cleverer.

Rattling over the turning point.

The idea of reading law at university has been swirling in my mind after the conversation with papa. To be frank, I do think it is a rewarding job. It would be perfect if I can make a stable living, and helping the poor. I come from the underprivileged family too when I was small. I am thinking, lawyer has perhaps bigger power to make contribution and change for the poor, rather than being a teacher. Of course both are rewarding. But, if I read law at the university, I will have more choices, even if I would not want to be a lawyer, I can still be a teacher.

It spurs me working up my english literature well. I am miles behind the others. I have no good feeling upon this subject. But I must overcome it. I hate the cowardice of dodging the difficulty I can get over.

Good night.

Boredom lalala

I am thinking of a better description of today - more than exhaustion, pressure and passion. They are fortitude of whim. it didn't last long, until I am now typing my diary on my bed. I would say I am too tired to think, express the tire and tension. Now I would like to have a good night sleep. And wake up at 6 tomorrow, continue to work up my history essays, and if luckily finish reading the last chapter of miss Jean Brodie. I decided not to give up english literature. Yes, reading is delightful but the reading for exam is distasteful and the teacher is detestable. Still I think I could better, if I work harder and put more effort in this subject. I should learn to get over the things I hate rather than staving off them. It is an important learning experience. I don't want to let myself and my parents down. Goodnight.

Sense and Sensibility.

After a glass of Vodka tonic, I went to bed at one something. I made a long dream, like an epic.

I was on a mission to kill someone again. The details were vague - I was in the immigration, and somehow, I found him and have him killed, but meantime he shot at my head. What was eccentric was that, I didn't fall down and die immediately. I covered the injury by my hand, it seemed that there wasn't much blood shedding at the very beginning. I tottered dizzily toward the passport control area, and asked for help? My will to survive was fragile, and consciousness was weak. A middle-aged man, whom I cannot remember his face no more after waking up, saw me and found his colleagues for further help, he was panic, and he gave me the impression that I seemed to know him. My injury turned bigger unobtrusively , and I started feeling that my energy and elements for surviving flowing away with my blood. I knew I was going to die. However no a touch of pain, not an immense pain was felt in my dream.

The footage jumped to any other unconnected location - I thought I saw my mother, crying her eyes out. I was sitting next to her. I can't remember what exactly was happened. The picture of her crying, imprinted in my mind.

The dream record is not compete, I have to say, I've forgotten a plenty. Another footage turned to a mountain? I was hiking with the middle-aged man who've saved me. On the top of the mountain we lied down, two-third of my blood in my body seemed to run out. My nerves was still. The blood in my body dried up, so did my life, and soul, I thought. Consciousness waned piecemeal. I missed my family.

I waked up in Subway. A subway located on the top of the unknown mountain. There was few people. I could sense the aroma of the fresh, hot coffee swirling in the air. lassitude filled every nerves and fingers of mine. A cell phone from nowhere, I found. I called CC. Her voice was still as sweet and happy as usual. Again, I couldn't recall the particulars. I said with composure, that I haven't died. She said she loved me. I smiled, and asked her what did you say? I would love to hear it again - She reiterated. So do I. Some people start coming. One thing was strange -

Apart from bliss, I found equal suspicion in my dream. I questioned myself in my dream that why she suddenly told me she loved me, after I was at the edge of death. My logic and rational thinking weren't totally perished whilst I was sleeping. That's I've proved.

Mirror and Moan.

Every time my reflection upon the mirror would ruffle a ripple of unconfidence in my heart.

It may be superstitious, but I believe in that anyway. The reflection from the mirror sends me a signal to remind me that I am not as clever as the others, I am a very mediocre person which needs more diligence than the others to reach even the same target. I am delighted, on balance, that I am not frustrated. I am still positive, I think. I will not give up. I will be self-restrainted. I will be more focus, I will do better, I know I am not clever, and I will do something about it. I really want everyone know that, Ng Ka Shek, he is someone matters. His parents didn't waste a single pounds on him. He gets into university by his knowledge not money. I swear, I pledge, I will prove it. No matter how hard the way will be, no, no never, never, I will change my mind. When I look at the russian girl in my class, yes, she is much more clever than, I admit that, but with all my might and main, I will catch her up... I wish, I could do it. I am not sure, but I will do what all possibly can to leave no regret...

Ng Ka Shek, when you want a cigarette, think of your rivilary, when you think of girls, think of your parents, when you think of sex, think of the blunders and sins you made, when you think of give up, think of your parents, when you think of relaxing, think of revising. Actually you dont have to think of anything, focus and revise, you will make it. I am sure. trust myself.

From mirror to mediocre.

I am sick. I want to vomit. Probably because of the supper with curry rice and vodka last night. I didn't go to school today.

I mirror myself. Looking at the features on my face - and laugh. It would be the greatest joke, and absurdity if Cambridge University takes the student looking like this - a mediocre one. It is all of dream.

flicking through my history and politics textbooks are the best thing I can do now. Hope you have a good day. Good evening.

Warmth and encouragement from pop and mum and brother.

the failure of the exam send me a hidden signal that I was too optimistic about the exam in May - i knew that it wouldn't surely be easy, but never thought it is something I can't achieve. Now, I seriously doubt that if I could really do well in May as I wish.

I've just taken a shower. a glimpse of my family picture in background comfort me little. It is not easy. I look at my parents, and my brother. They eyes in the picture seems to give me courage, and insistence. It is not expectation and pressure, and menace. It is comforting encouragement and warmth. I will do my best, I promise.

Whether I can get into Cambridge, I dare not to think. I will just do my best.

the woman in white.

On reading and reviewing the chapter “UK party system”, a whim crossed in my mind. I did make a dream last night – and I forgot to write it down.

I was in a lobby? Or white room? Everywhere was white, whatsoever. I met with a girl? I forgot her face! (I am not sure if she is S.) A serial of question marks orchestrated my dream. Anyway my impression and intuition told me that she was beautiful. Oh yes I remember. We were in the lobby, trying to shoot each other to death. It was a mission? Somehow in the lobby in the hotel (imagine!) I found there was a short, rock wall with a big hole in the centre in front of me and I hide there. There was one chance only. We have been under strain. We could not find the way out. She decided to take the first step, she moved out from her wall and shoot at me. She missed. It was so fast that my eyes, I believe could never catch up with the bullet – if it happened again. I was lucky, and forthwith return a shot. I have never missed. She lied and died.

I remember strangely, again, she was in white dress. Yes, a woman in white. I walked slowly toward her, found her dead already. I was so sad that, I bent down and touched her face softly, and kissed her. I don't know why – in my dream at that moment, I was very upset, and it seems to me that she was Sabina? (at least someone I know). I kissed her. And found that there are some flower-form accessories in pocket, which are all made by sliver. I took most of them in particular I can remember the flower one and left. I went out to the garden rear of the hotel. Shortly afterwards the police arrived in the hotel.

The footage turn to my home – 2314. I was tidying up Sabina sliver flower accessories on my bed. It is a double-deck bed. I left them on my bookshelf. The police came to my house and searched. They left. Nothing happen.

I am not sure if the girl is S. I have no impression if I had seen her face in my dream. But I do have a strong feeling that the woman in white was she – or have I mixed up the feeling and turned it into truth I don't know.. it was a birthday dream.

A couple of strange dreams on my 18 birthday.

Last night was 18 birthday - according to the chinese values, - I think, It shouldn't be celebrated because it is the day of our mother suffering and pain. There wasn't a big celebration of course anyway. The fact that I am having an exam the day after, foreshadowed it.

I smoked. And what is more - I went to bed quite early, around ten thirty. Whole night I was dreaming with two girls - one of them was my ex. Just as usual I can not remember much details on the second one. However, the first one was of a russian girl "N" visit my house and enjoy chinese steamed fish. She was rather uncomfortable of our feast - very strange, and funny dream. She had problem with picking up chopstick, and took the fish meat off the bones. The second one was of my ex "L". I reencountered "L" somehow in my dream - on the hill at the bus station at night. She missed the bus? or waiting for the bus? I am not sure. Anyway, It was very late I met her there, and was shocked, and took a taxi home with her. We talked few. All I can remember was just the view of west rail station, when we got there, it was almost day breaking. my mother called me for something!? I went home.

The footage turn to - I received a SMS from her. quite a horny one - i remember something like this "I would do anything for you spreading my legs let you in brabrabra unless you come back". disgusting? i am afraid. it wasn't the whole message. Whilst reading in the middle I woke up.

2012 first week of school. A story of witch and shit and exam.

A shit beginning today.

the pressure crammed into my brain once I stepped into the room twenty-four. I knew at the moment shit would start. The witchy-british-doll-faced something started taunting at me. What the hell is going on? Well, I lied. I lied to ther that I am working on my second graph of seamus heaney coursework and she asked for it tomorrow. Great. This time really I have to work all night to deal with that peice of shit. I just hate this subject. For goodness's sake I am having an exam on friday. Birthday on wednesday is pointless and meaningless whilst witchy-bitchy asked you for one thousand words well-connected, constructed, written poem analysis. Well I dont mind not to give a damn on my eighteen birthday, what makes me more fuck-up is that how am I going to blow up one-thousand words in less than twenty-four hours. God bless me. I have to press the button all over the time I am sure until six months at least later. Thank you.
Timetable is also sick. the man who scheduled this should be sent to addenbrokes hospital mental department immediately. What the hell is going on? i cant believe that I am mumbling for two hundred words. it is not my style. stay calm ka shek. you can one day get that shit done and get all A. I promise. Now get the hell back to your books. Good luck.

Stay calm with love.

What will be the difference if I now allow myself to think of her all the time from purely take her picture out of my mind? We are in different places, facing the challenge of going to university. I know, I have fallen in love. But please, Stay calm, and focus, nothing will change even if you spend your time at thinking of her more than revising. Let the things go naturally. The most important thing now is to get into Cambridge. You have already created a chance for yourself, go it further and don't miss it. It is not for granted.

God bless me.

it is time to press the button again.

Using my own slang: it is time to press a button.

I feel a bit sad. it is a sadness tainted with fear. The fear from future. I am leaving again tomorrow. The holiday was rewarding, and I am very much grateful for the time from my friends and family. I will miss you all. In fact, I am missing you all already. The battle starts. This time we must get to the bottom of the things and strike at the heart of the problem. Calm down, ka shek. Just focus and work. You will be.. well, I dont know? 'you will have no regret' should be an appropriate phrase.

I will think of her, and wish her well. I utterly hope she will get into university. I heartfeltly, wish she would get into the department she wants. I will pray for you.

I tell nothing, brag nothing, but work and focus, humble and firm. We will all watch and wait.

No fear. No nervous. A windless mind.

my brother asked me why do you leave so early?

Well, I have to say, I must go. I must go for the battle against. This time, I will be calm and confident, with well-constructed plan. Dissolving difficulties step by step and finding their context, with logical and rational skill. Meantime I would never forsake my sensibility whilst I learn to use sense to see the world. I pray. God will help me. I play and replay, that, one day, my aspiration will turn into achievable target.

A windless heart and spirit. composed and collected and calm. imperturbable and unflappable.

an old start.

A great dinner with wong sir, which again arouse my desire to be a vegetarian. Being a vegetarian seems to be a part of my past; an inconceivable past which I don't remember. I feel serene and happy when I keep out of meat.. The feeling is so strong tonight that perhaps I should make up my mind even, in the UK, undertaking a plan of staying away from meat. Coherence of insistence and consistence. I am happy because I am not joining the part of killing.

Clear and simple life.

The target is pure and simple, the step is well-planned and sturdy, the heart is calm and confident. I am not worried about the difficulty ahead of me, through the things I processed above, the difficulty and depression can be dissolved. My action will tell. I don't have to attend any hearsay around me, but make the best use of every second, and perfect use of my flair, and not to waste the expectation from my parents, and the talent that inherently born with me. With my best use of my aptitude to help people on the planet. Thank you, I am grateful for everything I have. May the god help me if thou art here.

be a good man and be nothing to do with stuff without the stage.

i think i'll feel much better if i dont give a damn on any affair with girls but focusing on friends and family. that's what i will do, and what will make me happy. I have made up my mind? the question of sadness and depression have none the less related to, anyone, but our self.

road is long, keep my monkey mind calm, and things will go smooth. of course, be a good person too.