read, read, write

it is also frustrating knowing that there are so many great books written when you also know for sure that even when you gather all the time in your life you won't be able to read (and fathom) half as many. but what is more frustrating is reading rubbish. nonsense, however, is fine, there has not been enough jabberwocky and humty-dumty. reading an unworthy book is much similar to having a bad conversation, at the end you only want your precious time back.

i sometimes write insanely long english sentences, which i know is not nice. but sometimes i do so on purpose, which i think is fine. i do believe that brief means cool, except when you want to write a sentence long enough to appear scholarly and profound. but what i am thinking is, classical chinese is the coolest thing in the universe, for its saying so little and meaning so much, and for its lovely sounds on the ear and lingering effect on the heart. i am often so overwhelmed (by all kinds of good literature) that i think i will never be able to write better than what have already been written.

i ought to finish the novel i started which is themed on my father. it has been nearly a year now since the last sentence was written. but there is no way for me to write without crying. i wonder if i am really too dramatic or sentimental, or maybe what is felt upon my heart is truly too powerful? it has to be felt to be understood, which makes the understanding impossible. we are all alone in this universe.