There are two reasons we keep quiet, one, it means nothing, and two, it means everything.

In the life of a 22-year-old boy, there are definitely things other people cannot comprehend. Don’t have to feel bad if you cannot understand me. Nobody can truly understand anybody. I can never truly understand anyone, even when I thought I know a lot. Even if it is in the best interest for the person, I will never be able to truly understand. But that does not mean the things that I did was selfish because I did what I had to do in the best interest of the person based very much on my opinion just because you can never truly know anyone. That is just how our puny little brains operate. We care too much.

There are reasons why we did the things we do, and will continuing doing it just to preserve the functionality and existence of the things we so dearly want to preserve and protect. By doing so, the reasons that act as the driving force of all our actions shown superficially and even gotten misunderstood sometimes are kept hidden in the closet, fearing the fact that the exposure of our reasons will terminally end the happiness we so very much try to preserve. Because the reasons are nonetheless secrets, dark secrets that we wish they had not exist in the first place. But since we were not able to erase these secrets, we had them kept hidden in the very soul of our minds. We may excel in the art of concealing the truth but the slithering darkness of our inner desire are as strong, albeit successfully halting its revelation, but its manifestations of its leftover tracks did not fail to influence us, from the deep core of our mind to the shallow representation of our identities, thus affecting our outward actions and choices we take. We so abhorrently hate these secrets that we rename it, reasons.

John Green, my number one favourite author once said in The Faults In Our Stars (TFIOS),

“I’m a grenade. And at some point I’m going to blow up. 

And I would like to minimise the casualties.”

This quote not only proves that John Green gave life to the silenced and lost words chanted by my inner soul, but also serves as the essence to my reasons.

Just like Hazel in TFIOS, I have a condition. Some might argue it to be worse than cancer, while others might think it is a blessing rather than having cancer. But if you really have the condition as me, you and I would comprehend it as the cancer of the soul. And for somebody like me who has a depth of knowledge about the soul, afterlife and the future judgment day, that cancer is not going to kill me in the end, because it had already did. The lifestyle I lead is a curse itself that will only continue to exist as long as I am still breathing and feeling.

As much as I wish I were a zombie roaming around without a purpose and desire, I am still aware of my existence and the impulse I possess, and that the impact of the living that can bring, intentionally or not, to the people around me. People once said that if you wanted to live life to the fullest, think about how you yourself to be described in your own eulogy. For me, I wanted to impact people. That simple. But I wish I could add in an adjective to describe that impact, and obviously everyone wants to leave a good impact on people. But the reality is you cannot. Nobody just leaves good impacts. People hurt you, they make you cry, depressed, question about life. Even in the animation Inside Out by Pixar, all of us have Sadness aside from Joy, Fear, Anger and Disgust. Deny it all you may, but sadness is a very much vital to the living, not because it brings about tears of pain, but it gives all the positive impacts a reason to be appreciated and treasured. Without pain, we never know happiness. 

As John Green wrote, pain demands to be felt. Therefore, it is inevitably that we will impact others in a good and bad fashion. Even though we cannot have total control of the impact we leave, we can control the intentions of our good and bad impacts. And that good intention for a not-so-nice action will leave a lesser negative impact on the people you know you will hurt one day, because of your condition, but this route of choice is made in the best interest of the people you care, all because that not-so-nice action we take will cause minimal damage. Therefore, it is our responsibilities to “minimise the casualties” that will be caused by our conditions we were born with which will inevitably cause pain and harm to the people we care. Since we cannot prevent the negative impact, at least let us reduce its damages.

That, my friend, is the reason why I drew myself a line from the people I care. Selfish? Some may argue that pain is a feeling to be shared with loved ones, is to be carried together, not alone. But honestly, ask yourself, would you want to burden your pain to the people you care? Would you want to feel good again, but to feel that, bring about pain, or would you rather continue to bear the pain you were born with, and let the people you care to feel lesser pain and more happiness. It is true that without sadness, happiness is superficial. But there is also a reason why we were gifted with this curse, and not the people we care. We are strong enough to carry this burden, and strong enough not to let it seep into the lives of our love ones. This is where you decide who is selfish and who is selfless. Arguments can be drawn from many sides with different perspectives. This is where the real debate begins, but is also where I rest my case.

You need not know the reasons I do what I do, because the knowledge of it will not bring about full comprehension. But know this, that the things that I did and do and will do are a result of the best intention of you. A negative impact, I cannot deny, but in the least painful way possible.

梦中领悟的简讯胜过人间的金玉良言。——舜

＊＊＊

梦里，我和一位陌生华裔男子面对面地坐在一间中东餐厅。东张西望的我看见餐厅内有许多中东人。我们虽然谈了不少，可是梦里的话总是模糊不清，嘻嘻莎莎的。奇怪的是，有一段话题特清楚。

他问我，“你生命中最想得到什么？”

我立刻地回答，“只有两样。一，无论我做什么，都尽我所能，成为精英。二，享受爱与被爱的滋味儿。”

他继续问，“那什么阻挡你达到那梦想呢？”

他这一问，犹如在我脑海中种植了一枚炸弹。想着想着，滴答滴答……轰炸了！

一瞬间，我人生的条幅一件件地在我眼前卷开。它们越开越快，我就越呼越快，开始喘气。亲眼看着我的对错、我的固执、我的成果、我的借口、我的行为等。

＊＊＊

喘着粗气地醒来，我领悟到一件事；我得改变。

如果他在我清醒时问了同样一句的问题，我想答案会大不相同。清醒的我们往往被累赘了种种生活中的烦恼。未来的顾虑，现在的问题，和以往的后悔都囚禁了我们的举动，把梦想朦胧着，让我们无法分别出我们本质和梦想。

我们的本质呢就是我们本来的人格。比如，我是个外向的人，说话挖苦直接、脑子伶俐狡猾、胆子大又傲气。好坏一体，那就是我。

而我们的梦想就是我们想成为的一个人。我的呢，就是希望更多人喜欢我，能够接纳我，与我交朋友。因为我说话直接，话中带刺，胆子大却吓人，傲气让人难以接近。

醒来后，我决定要改变，改变我对我自己本质的理想。

我的本质大有被我身为水瓶座而感到骄傲而影响。以下是索取从Twitter水瓶座quotes的例子。我不相信星座运势，但我喜欢与自己做比较。（注意：每个网站的星座指标大有分别哦！）

当时，我读了以后，感觉十分自豪，因为我的好坏都有星座指标的理由。我，就是那个人。

梦后，我读了回去，发现到那些不但不是我本质的理由，而且是不肯改变的借口。

可是这不代表星座指标是不好的，反而我认为它很有帮助。不是帮助我们为自己本质的弱点感到骄傲，而是帮助我们看清自己本质的弱点，从中改变，成为一个比星座里的自己更上一层楼。

本质：虽然说话直接，话中带刺是我的本性，但这不代表我应该继续这样说话，就因为我的星座如此描述我。

梦想：反而，如果要和蔼可亲，就得改变说话技巧。就因为本质的弱点在于口品，就该修身慎行。

（说话直接虽好，但一旦伤了他人，沟通在有效也没用。适度直接最重要。）

这让我想起我和朋友聊天时谈到了一本自助书。《高效能人士的七个习惯》是史蒂芬·柯维最著名的一本著作 (The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People by Steven Covey)。在书中，史蒂芬谈到了七个让我们能成为高效能人士的习惯，其一关于有效的沟通（第五）。

（5. Seek first to understand, then to be understood.)

因为未读这本书，将来才能分享，不好意思。

有些人会争论说，我们社会当中不能只有说话弯转，不挖苦的人。就因为有这一群说话特直接，话中带刺的人，人生才多姿多彩，不腻烦。这想法本身没错，但你曾体会过说话直接，有心无心地挖苦其他人的感受吗？表面上看起来很了不起，可是就往往最孤单，最让人难以接近。你会以为有些人喜欢这些说话直接伤人的人，可是你不知道的是那个人身边的朋友都是穿上盔甲和盾牌与他交友。这就产生隔离，结果是孤独，让人抓摸不清，难以亲近。

其实，梦里的梦想，最重要的是能有机会爱与被爱。要能爱人，就得把捧高自己的心理改变，注重他人的心情和感受。要被爱，就得改变让人难以亲近的本质，好让人感觉舒服，快乐。而要改变，就得尽我所能，成为精英。正好，人算不如天算，神感动我的朋友来分享那本自助书，给我一个方向开始。

就我正在写这这篇问章的时候，正在玩游戏的妹妹也随口问了一句。

“哥，你觉得这游戏的变化，该迎接还是埋怨呢？”

怎么那么巧合？我在写关于改变，你也问关于变化。

我就回了一句。“Grey’s Anatomy 有句金句说，‘Change is inevitable.’ 那既然变化是必然的，何苦埋怨呢？迎接改变才明智、才能知足，快乐。”

所以，不许停留在充满弱点的本质，而是从中改变，尽我所能，成为一个比任何星座指标的本质更优秀，更精英。

*Photo credit to Oscar Lunar

I am someone who has always loved language. I spent a great deal of time thinking about the way it can evoke an emotion, a visual image, a complex idea or a simple truth. Language is the tool of my trade. And I use them all – all the Englishes I grew up with.

            One day, I was giving a talk to a large group of people about my writing, my life and my book, The Joy Luck Club. The talk was going along well until I remembered one major difference that made the whole talk sound wrong. My mother was in the room and it was perhaps the first time she had heard me give a speech. I was saying things literary people tend to say, things like, “The intersection of memory upon imagination…” and “There is an aspect of my fiction that relates thus-and-thus”. It was a speech wrought with grammatical phrases, burdened, it seemed to me, with complex forms of standard English that I have learned in school, forms of English I did not use at home with my mother.

            One day I was walking down the street with her and we were talking about the price of new and used furniture. I heard myself saying, “Not waste money that way.” It was a different sort of English, “family talk,” the language I grew up with. You should know that my mother’s command of spoken English belies how much she actually understands. She reads Forbes magazine, watches “Wall Street Week,” converses daily with her stockbroker – and grasp all kinds of things I cannot begin to understand.

            Yet some of my friends tell me they understand only 50% of what my mother says. Some say they understand 80 to 90%. Some say they understand none of it, as if she were speaking pure Chinese. But to me, my mother’s English is perfectly clear, perfectly natural.

            Her language, as I hear it, is vivid, direct, full of observation and imagery. That was the language that helped shape the way I saw things, expressed things, made sense of the world. I have described the kind of English my mother speaks as “broken” or “fractured.” But I wince when I say that.

            It has always bothered me that I can think of no way to describe it other than “broken,” as if it were damaged and needed to be fixed, as if it lacked a certain wholeness and soundness. It limits people’s perception of the speaker. I know this because when I was growing up, I believed that my mother’s English reflected the quality of what she had to say. That is, because she expressed them imperfectly, I considered her thoughts imperfect. And I had plenty of evidence to support me: the fact that people in departmental stores, at banks, at restaurants did not take her seriously, did not give her good service, pretended not to understand her, or even acted as if they did not hear her.

            My mother has long realised her limitations in English as well. And she wanted things to be different for us. When I was growing up, Readers’ Digest was the only magazine that my parents subscribed to because it contained “Word Power.” That elevated Readers’ Digest from entertainment to education. With polysyllabic “Word Power” as our passport, our family had access to better opportunities. We – our parent’s children – could win approval and rise like balloons above the masses.

            I think my mother’s English almost had an effect on my choice of career. The language speaking in the family, especially in immigrant families, which are more insular, plays a large role in shaping the language of the child. While my English skills were never judged as poor, compared to mathematics they could not be considered my strong suit. In primary school, I did moderately well in English but those grades were not good enough to override the opinion that my true abilities were in mathematics and science. And I had teachers who tried to steer me away from writing and into mathematics an science. Fortunately, I happen to be rebellious in nature and enjoy dispelling the assumptions made about me. I became an English major my first year at university. I started writing non-fiction freelance the week after I was told by my boss that writing was my worst skill and that I should think about accounts management.

            However, I later decided to envision a reader for my short stories, and I decided on my mother. So, because of this, I began to write using all the Englishes I grew up with: the English I spoke to my mother, which may be termed “simple”, or “broken”; my translation of her Chinese and what I imagined to be her translation of her Chinese if she could speak in perfect English. Apart from what any critic had to say about my work I knew that I had succeeded where it counted when my mother finished reading my book and gave me her verdict: “So easy to read.”

(Adapted from Mother Tongue by Amy Tan)

Amy Tan and her mother

挚友如异体同心。 ——亚里士多德

十年前，12岁的我们单纯又真诚。当时在一起，不虚伪、不假装。真正友谊的基础打得稳，才能持续那么久。

十年后，22岁的我们成熟又聪明。如今在一起，脱面纱、脱面具。真正友谊的纽带依然强，意向再续那么久。

长大之后，发现越来越难交真正的朋友。不是因为对朋友条件越来越多，而是周围的人越来越假、不真诚。可能你的朋友圈子越来越大，朋友人数越来越多，但真正的知己有一样地增加吗？假装也不完全是我们的错。谁不想作为真正舒服的自己呢？现实的社会逼迫我们化为双面人。第一面来应付社会的要求，而第二面来保存真正的自己。只有少数才能成功容和那两面，而多数宁愿套上面具来适应这残酷的社会。我承认我是变脸之王，因为我相信变脸是一套适应社会的生存技能之一。

长大之后，不是谁能跑得快就赢这么简单。

能伸能屈，达权通变，生存下去，才胜利。

踏入大学，才发现到人挺复杂。我也不例外。其实说起来也不惊讶啊。都活了20多年，人，总有经历过不同的风风雨雨，模造出不同的人格，携带着不同的故事，对社会和原理都有不同的观念。成为大人的挑战：只有自己对自己的故事了如指掌，对其他人的故事却不得而知。

不了解别人的故事就不在乎别人的观念。

不在乎别人的观念就不明白别人的作为。

不明白别人的作为就不理会别人的感想。

所以，长大之后，人与人的交情真的需要更多的包容和努力。友谊，再也不是小孩子一般单纯的“就因为我们是朋友”如此简单了。

问：那么成年人怎么交真心朋友呢？

答：秀出弱势的一面是建立坚固友谊的关键。

我们戴面纱，套面具的根源就是因为要隐藏我们第二张脸；我们真诚又弱势的一面。小时候，我们是以真诚一面来看待世界。我们不害怕秀出我们的弱势来互相了解来，互相交朋友。但残酷的社会却欺骗和践踏这种单纯、弱势、真诚的一面。渐渐地，为了生存，为了保护自己，我们戴上了面具，化为双面人。我们却往往没想到我们所产生的生存技能既然防止我们交上真心朋友。我们都害怕露出我们弱势的一面。

小孩子的友谊如此坚强就因为没有面具的屏障。

而成年人的友谊如此肤浅就因为大家不敢脱下面具，不敢真诚地互相了解，害怕被伤害。

至于这十年的友谊，是在我们最单纯又真诚的时候，是在我们还没戴面具之前，是在我们以单纯真诚的心态来互相了解、明白、在乎大家的故事当儿建立的。就因为如此而坚强，稳固。

十年之内根本没有每天联系，更没有处处报告。偶尔还会人间蒸发几个月，有些一两年才复活。也许保持联络在21世纪不是问题，但其实推动力是我们每一个人心内的那份友谊。虽然各各遥远，大家却不断地找机会相聚，犹如失散的身体和灵魂。

朋友，越平淡越纯，越真诚越久。

离家太久，忘了当初离开的原因。——舜

“你就是态度不好。”

“啥事都做不好。“

“小事都不能信任你去做。”

难道这是我回家的原因吗？来听烦躁的抱怨吗？

原本相信‘树欲静而风不止，自欲养而亲不待’的美德，感觉自己回家是种孝顺的方式，才特地早回晚归。可是每一次回家，感觉没想象中的美好。什么温暖家庭，嘻嘻哈哈的气氛都是骗人的。要是冷漠安静倒好，但是就常被寒酸讥骂，说是‘教训’，让我心特烦特委屈。

难道我就这么没用吗？难道我回家就增添了更多不必要的烦躁吗？

人都已经22岁了，怎么什么都做不好啊？

那人都已经22岁了，怎么你们还待我像12岁了呢？能不能就好好训我像个大人呢？

坦白说，回家的感觉不是温暖。好吃的，好住的，都有。但心灵上特空虚，特寂寞。

虽然读书遥远，吃住都没家里好，但至少我开心，因为心灵上有朋友的支持和鼓励。

陌生的邻居。遥远的朋友。要出去没车子开。在马来西亚走路，不是天气杀了你，就是路上的白痴。

你可能会说，“这小伙子怎么借口没完啊？”

我可以原谅你，因为你不是我，所以不明白我。

不明白我，就不明白我的苦中。

你也可能会说，“怎么不自己动脑经找方法出去啊？”

不是我不能出去。出去了，父母就嫌我好玩，说在家做有用的最好。

在家除了上网读小说弹琴之外能做什么呢？难道我放假回家休息不能就懒一点吗？就嫌我没出息，不长进。你说，我能咋啊？

朋友说，我说话很辣，时常会伤人。

我妈说话，更辣更狠，会让人士气受挫。

她会一直念，一直念，念到你心理都会大大的受挫。但她不晓得，因为我没告诉她。

回应就会被当着是反叛。

最终我唯一适应方式就是保持安静。自己吸收那疼痛的挫伤，因为就根本没用。不是吗？

如今，我要是再次有机会劝告朋友要常回家看父母，我还会用此言语，但也加了一句。

如果多住一天能让他们开心多一点，那就多回家。要不， 吃一顿餐会好过你伤他们多一点。

从小，我就在那种“你不够好，没出息“的环境长大。好不容易才把自己的自信心建立起来，所以我不要被父母伤人的话践踏下来。

我不要求他们改变，因为父母是对的。只希望他们不要那么狠。家内不必那么现实，因为社会大学一定有它的课程。

当家外都充满了竞争和挫折的尖刺，就希望能在家内充满了鼓励和支持的花瓣。