heinel: (Default)
The British wartime poster is what greeted me when I first set foot inside the Vancouver Olympic Village. Of course, it is no longer about air-raids anymore. The occasion is that as assistants to foreign officials we will have to put up with people who do things differently. So the golden advice is supposed to keep us from raging and embarrassing ourselves (and possibly by extension, Canada) in front of Very Important People. Well, it is more than that. It is also supposed to ineffectively ward off the anxiety – Oh My God I already forgot the layout of the... What's it called again? – and the excitement – I wonder what those athletes look like, I guess I can't pet them, but at least standing close is okay? Right? Right?

Read more... )


Dec. 31st, 2009 04:45 am
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As a member of the NOC assistants we are supposed to get familiar with the VANOC vehicles and the Olympic venues. We were given a chance to do just that. The Vancouver based session was not exactly something I would call very exciting, mostly because the routes are going to be very different come games time. However, I still think it was a good experience. The people I was assigned to were not part of my team, but that was really my own fault. Apparently the people I worked with also signed up late, so we are a team of "extras," so to speak. They are pretty nice though. There is this guy who felt like an ENFj. It is just too bad that he already has a fiance. Anyway, he still makes for a good distraction for the day.

I admire people who are both willing and able to create an inclusive atmosphere, because I almost always feel like an outcast, or misfit, whenever people start grouping up. When people reach out to me I feel less stressed about the situation. That does not mean I like all forms of intrusion, though. I am not good at gauging distance between myself and other people, so I need others to set the boundaries for me. People who can preemptively orient me towards a positive direction are the people who can truly disarm me. When these people approach me, I do not feel threatened by them, and that saves me a lot of energy which I can then spend on tasks or enjoyment. So I guess I really should thank this guy, who I probably will never meet again. Wherever he is, I wish him good luck. Though considering his charm, he probably does not need it.


Dec. 17th, 2009 12:46 pm
heinel: (Default)
My lantern was destined to be small. When I looked at the materials, there were really so many possibilities. However, if I were to do this over, I think I will still make the same thing. How could there be another choice?

I didn't start the journey from the beginning. I just randomly walked around. The paths on the ground looked like vines stretching, with buds at the tips. It felt like I could just wander around for however long I wanted. But of course, I couldn't. There is a time limit, just like everything has a time limit. So I started reading again. In no particular order. My book of life? Blank. My light? That is in my hands, as it has always been. Shadow? I have some idea, but not quite sure. Back to the beginning. There is the first fork - one side leads to the first, most eye catching dead-end, the other leads to the stranger.

So let's focus on the stranger. There seemed to be some mythical association with this entity. Thanks to the mentor, I guess. However, I don't think that is how it works for me. Strangers are real. Real people you could call up whenever you want, but only if you have correctly identified them. The reason why I didn't get past the first fork, was because I misidentified the stranger. I had originally thought that the stranger would be my Dual. In hindsight, that conclusion was really absurd. The definition of the word "stranger" is completely contradictory to the one of the Dual. In actual fact, this stranger is my Conflict. This is why strangers are called strangers. They are meant to be strangers. That is why they never stay. That is why I did not pay them attention, when I should have. With this reasoning, everything else fall into place.

Even the most analytical minds are not without flaws, and the most passionate souls are not without reason. Sitting at opposite ends of the pole are things so foreign as to be almost unthinkable. We may never get along, but that does not mean the exchange is fruitless. The stranger sees the world in just the way that I am not, and whatever problem I cannot solve, the stranger can. Yet, quite unlike with the Dual, the problem is not drained into the void and dismissed. Conflicts call you on your ineptitude. This is beneficial. True growth is when people sees their own flaws, and fix it themselves.

I need to thank someone, even though it might be a surprise to her. We would like nothing to do with each other, but observing from afar is so far a okay. At least we can agree on that. I should not forget the phrase: "In any case, it's not a real problem for me so long as I keep my eyes on the prize."

Afterthoughts... )
heinel: (Default)
I look out of the window and it is mostly dark.
Lights of orange and white dot the city at night.
Cruising through the sea, I leave not a mark.
The closer are the jewels, the brighter are their light.

Lights of orange and white dot the city at night,
ever so slow the clusters of street lights shift.
The closer are the jewels, the brighter are their light;
touching the glass window, I can feel the rift.

Ever so slow the clusters of street lights shift.
Between the stars little headlights traverse,
touching the glass window. I can feel the rift
ten thousand feet below. There is the universe

between the stars. Little headlights traverse
in the milky way. I too am just moving along.
Ten thousand feet below there is the universe,
like firework, yet that does not last this long.

In the milky way, I too am just moving along,
entranced by the brilliance of prisms
like firework. Yet that does not last this long.
With nothing but a duffel bag, I dive for the chasms

entranced, by the brilliance of prisms
cruising through the sea. I leave not a mark
with nothing but a duffel bag. I dive for the chasms.
I look out of the window and it is mostly dark.

Afterthoughts... )
heinel: (Default)
Because there were so many tourists then in Pura Tanah Lot,
Appreciating the Temple in the Sea was nigh impossible.

I thought so as I set foot in the parking lot.
Treading across the soft mud, my concerns were confirmed.

So close to nature, the tour could have been my creative lot.
Yet, I could not see anything here worthy of my signature:

Catching the salty sea wind was probably harder than winning the lot.
There was plenty of spicy food though, I smelled that on the way.

Everyone was excited about it all – they were a cheerful lot.
I cannot see how I could share their enthusiasm, though.

Noisy chat and banter, there definitely were a lot.
The sound of the waves cannot be heard at all.

I thought I should pay the sea God my humble lot.
But when I saw that line up for the ritual? Never mind.

So it makes you wonder why did I stay there.
With patience I found a new page in my album:

By dusk, the foreground has become nothing but a shadow;
The outline of trees and spires against the orange sun.

Afterthoughts... )
heinel: (Default)
When I got out of my car, and walked along the path in front of the West Mall Centre, I felt an odd sense of familiarity. I remembered that the philosophy department was located in this building, third or fourth floor. I had not set foot in the place for several years, but there was no time for me to reminisce about my days up in Burnaby Mountain. I was half an hour late for my meeting.

To be fair, these "meetings" were really just long lectures about things that I should already know, or could find out about on the internet within minutes. The idea behind these classes, I believed, was just to test our dedication towards our commitment. It was a fair test that I intended to pass. It was way too boring, but, what must be done needed to be done. The lecture hall was quite full. There was no seat available near the entrance so I sat on the stairs. I regretted this choice later though. It was way stiffer than I had anticipated.

My day lighted up quite a bit as I looked at the speaker on the podium. He was talking as I walked in, but I was too busy trying to find a seat. I had not really noticed him until I settled down. Then the more I looked at him, the more he got to me. He wore black-framed glasses. His brown hair was short. The lights in the hall was dimmed for the projector, but they gave his skin a shade of deep red. It looked as if he was under the sun, even though there was nothing but dark ceiling above him. He wore a blue shirt, and it was unbuttoned at the top. Coupled with the jeans, the ensemble gave him a smart yet casual look. He was charming, indeed.

Of course, a person's charm does not depend solely on appearance. He had high-pitched voice, but it was not weird. He had an accent, but he spoke clear enough to be understood. He was an animated speaker, moving about and gesturing all along. I still do not know whether his sheer enthusiasm or his sense of humor had me first. I do know his presence was awe-inspiring. He went over time with his speech but I thought nobody cared. It was enjoyable, even though I could not care less about the topic at the moment. I could get used to lectures like this.

He picked up his black jacket and left during the break, but not before he had a nice chat with the other guest speakers first. Who was he again? I was not there for the introduction, but I looked him up in the lecture notes: Manager, Transportation Systems NOCs/NPCs.
heinel: (Default)
Richmond is not big. Nevertheless I was quite surprised when I saw this guy in Bestbuy. He was someone I knew from high school.

My Dad wanted a new TV and needed me as an interpreter, but the attendants spoke Chinese too, so he could just talk to them himself. There was nothing for me to do, so I just stared into space. I was standing in front of a counter when he came. He dyed his hair blond, otherwise he looked more or less the same as in my memory. The Bestbuy uniform really did not suit him, though I cannot tell whether that was because he was not tall enough, or because he drove a BMW. I did not move; he did not stop. Soon he walked past me, and I did not think much of it. Last time I saw him we also did not talk.

That was when I was in the cafeteria on the Richmond campus of Kwantlen. I was talking to someone, while walking out from the front door. He walked in just about then. Our eyes briefly met, and then he immediately turned to the vending machine. I did not linger, but I did not think he bought anything from it. That reminded me. I also did that once, turning my face as if I had not saw someone when it was so clear that I did. Now I know how weird I must have looked to that other person.

There is more to it this time, though. He turned up right in front of me, facing me with the back of his head. He chatted with the attendants, but really, I can see that he was more interested in what we were buying - he was sniffing at the computer screen that showed our invoice. You know, you could just have asked.

I just do not get why we so naturally and how we so effortlessly repel each other.  Maybe some of us are just not cut out to be friends.
heinel: (Default)
I can't help but look
      at the pink plaid elephant -
           a cute guy from class.

Afterthoughts... )

8 P.M.

Aug. 14th, 2009 10:41 pm
heinel: (Default)
From time to time, I would go to the Minoru tracks for a walk.  Tonight was one of those days.  I never liked walking - too boring.  This time I brought a book, so I can read while walking.  I was the only one walking with a book.  It's alright.

The story hit an unexpected twist.  Zombies.  Now that I think about it, it was kind of creepy when I walked on the track with so many people walking in the same direction, while at the same time reading about zombies chasing people.  However, something else caught my attention.  It was that familiar breathing sound, clear and constant.  I looked up and sure enough, it was him.

I have only ever seen his back.  The few times I saw him he wore a cap with his black mid-length hair tugged straight at the back, a tank top that showed his smooth muscular arms, and navy pants with buttons on the side.  He ran, so from time to time he would run past me.  Whenever that happened though, I would first hear his breathing from behind.  He always breathed at that exact same way as if it was played by a tape recorder on repeat, so it could not be mistaken.  Whenever I heard his breath I would look up and watch him.

He ran alone.  There was no music player or anything.  He just kept his head straight ahead as he ran around the walkers like he was in an obstacle course.  I have never seen a moment of hesitation in him.  He took wide steps, so it looked like he was momentarily airborne right after each thrust of his legs.  Soon enough, he would disappear into the crowd far ahead.

Masculinity, enough said.


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