Contemplative

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I have always been one of those people who overthink some things. I replay conversations in my head and imagine all the what-I-could-have-said’s. I recall hurtful words and repeat them to myself again and again: letters, texts, email, notes, Facebook messages – they are all crystal clear in my mind. I contemplate my future, compare my achievements to others’, and ponder my self-worth instead of sleeping.

Dangling

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So many times things hang by a thread: that chipped nail, that Biology grade, that fragile friendship doomed from the start. The brittle hold of two things together is easily broken; yet, it is often the tenuous connection that makes one savor the relationship more.

My Favorite Kids

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Since today is exactly one year since this picture was taken, I would like to share a little about these amazing kids. Last summer I taught English at Houbi Elementary in Tainan, Taiwan, and this was my class: Class D. The students were polite, sweet, hardworking, and eager to learn; furthermore, I even developed a strong bond with them (a bond that caused me to cry profusely once on-board the bus that took us away).

At the Closing Ceremony, my teaching partner and I had taught our class how to sing and dance to the song “Let it Go” (original choreography, of course): it truly displayed a sense of progress and new-found bravery in the kids, and my heart beamed with pride. I have never had such a respect or understanding for the work of teachers until that moment, and I felt how rewarding the process could be.

One of the most bittersweet moments was when one girl, Sandra, whom I had developed an especially close relationship with, biked half an hour in the early morning to see us off, her face stained with tears and showing signs of a sleepless night, her body still clad in pajamas – sweaty, her words begging us not to leave.

A Pretty Park

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At the current angle, it almost appears that the dragon is running away, off the wall, and that almost evokes a sense of cowardice. Why choose the easier path — the path where you stay safe while others are hurt, where status triumphs over integrity, where dishonesty and immoral actions are condoned — where you become a bystander. Confronting an unjust situation is the only way to correct and better the world we live in, so I wish that people would stop running away from what is right.

Path

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It would be nice if memories one wishes to be wiped clean, acts one wishes to be undone, words one wishes to be retracted could all be taken back, like how the tracks will soon be washed away by the the sea. Yet, the blood, sweat, and tears that pour endlessly in attempts to coat the past under their unrestrained liquid forms could never cover it all.