Have you ever had that feeling of dread that when you open your refrigerator, which is filled up nicely, but can’t find anything to eat? Soy milk–I just drank it for the breakfast. Tomato soup–I had it yesterday. Vietnamese pizza with rice wrap underneath–I tried it twice already within 48 hours. Bean curd–too bland. My conclusion is that I am not hungry enough.
Have you ever had the feeling of incredulity that when you stand at your closet door looking in and can’t find anything to wear, even though the closet is arranged in such a way that every corner is most economically occupied by your clothes? This T-shirt–too dark. That skirt–worn too often. The flowery blouse–too showy. That pair of pants–too boring and un-showy. Those animals on Discovery channel have such an easy life as far as outfits and accessories and hairdos are concerned. A lioness doesn’t care what she wears when she goes out there to hunt, with several photographers and truck loads of tourists in tow. A lioness can roll in mud, flip in air, eat with no table manners to speak of, and still be camera ready.
Have you ever had the feeling of alarm that when you stare at your book shelf, scroll the list of kindle books, and review your audible library, you can’t find anything you particularly want to read? It must be the book “The Barbarians Are Coming”, which depresses me. Sterling Lung, why are you so subdued? Your parents, your three women, your ladies in the club are all imposing on you in various ways. The thing is I can’t stay in non-fictions for too long since the writing style is not as I want it to be, and the fictions with language I enjoy are usually, if not completely depressing, unflattering about life in general in their plots and observations.
Have you ever had the feeling of surprise that after you write something beautiful and funny and interesting according to your mind’s design, you find it awful when you read it the next day? It’s like a movie director has a beautiful dream, but when she shoot the scene according to her dream, it’s a disaster. The effect is just not there. The thing is so flat and ordinary and mundane…but hopeful. That’s the problem. If it is completely hopeless, you can just drop it and throw it away, but if it is still promising, you don’t have the heart to throw it away. I can’t throw anything away. I feel like a hoarder.
2 thoughts on “Nothing And Everything”
Usually, I love my stories the next day, and even more after a few years when I read them and can’t remember the name of the author.
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This is so relatable especially the food one because I’m dealing with that right now.
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