The past weekend was the big moving day. Things actually went pretty well, except the morning pick up of U-Haul. What a terrible customer service they had! Well, it started with my fault really by forgetting to bring my driver license. Nonetheless, the only service was not helpful ← and it's just another example of euphemism that it gave an error message to retry during business hours of the self-service pickup location (which was closed for Sunday, btw, wtf!), and what it really meant, thanks for the last representative who revealed it to me, was that my account was blocked for any further self-service and my only option was to find a U-Haul location that was open and have a real person to help me. Really, once again, euphemism never works for anybody because it doesn't specify action to take to move things forward! Make it clear, as precise and actionable as possible, so to remove and minimize lost in translation. An ambiguity like that isn't a sign of politeness. Instead, it is a sign of arrogance and apathy, and smells especially bad in customer service.

    Moving is tiring. Really. It's not bad this time to move all the stuff since most of the stuff are already in boxes (and never left there since Boston). And also, I like my way of minimal living, that makes moving less of a heaache, for me, at least. One thing coming out of this life fiasco is that I learned to live on mininum, and started to realize how little one needs, physically and materially — things you could put away for a week or two, you can safely discard them without harming your way of living anymore than they would do to you if being kept around, moved around, attached as if they were necessary but they are practically useless. On the other hand, a minimal living emphasizes how much one would need to fill in this gap with mind, with soul, with emotion, with love, with something inner, someone to miss, some days to think of, some part of life to regret...

    I miss those days. I miss those people. I read books, give thoughts to a lot of sayings. I try to make sense of this world, make sense of people, history, society, try to figure out what is important to me, important to others, important to Noah. I get angry sometimes, because those BS annoys me to hell; I get calmer than before, too, because I can see through so many things and people now that I know what they are trying to do, and I feel it's really just up to me to decide whether I want to be part of this BS, if at all (and most likely I won't be, cause that will annoy me even further because now it will be myself being part of the annoyance, and I can't get rid of myself, what a pity).

    Friday is approaching. There is actually relief between us because there is no suspension anymore — it's done, it will be done. I have been preaching to Noah that if it is something you care enough about, make it happen, don't wait around. While saying that I always wonder on the back of my mind what this meant to us — do I really care so much about being official that way? Once upon in life I wished I were available then to be with her and gave her what she wanted. I feel this is a step I'm taking for myself so that myself knows I was serious, sincere, and truthful. It's how I felt, how I feel, and how I should have done, for both of them. Timing didn't play out, again, which is perhaps the theme of my life, or a curse? No matter. Destiny has its own course, and I don't want to guess nor expect. Whatever it may be, I am just hoping I can stay true, to myself and to others I care about — I sincerely live a life without ever thinking to hurt or harm the ones I loved and cared. If consequence of a mistake is hurtful just the same with or without a sincerity, I think having one is still better than having none. It's a selfish act I feel ← I care how I judge myself, but none how others judge me.

    Is this bad? I don't know. It is my way.


    PS. Books and bookshelves make me happy. I like the new bookshelves and my collection of books. I have been thinking by the day I go away, which book I would bring with me, if there were only one, or a few? I don't know yet. I like Practicing History. She has a sharp tongue, and cut-through pen. I like it. While reading it I was always reminded the line in 冯唐's book that reading book is like conversing with the author, through time.

    And lot of times I felt that she was there, and she is there, though far far far away, if not in front of my eyes, but in front of my mind, my heart. There is such a thing as soul mate, I believe, and she is mine.

    — by Feng Xia


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