What do I really cannot stand?

I really cannot stand seeing a woman dissatisfied with her life!

I really cannot stand seeing a woman being disappointed.

I think that is phantom I am running away from.


On Working Style

When I was small, I used to set myself some goals. After I met the goals, I would go out and play.

Sometimes my habit would displease my sisters. They felt I should do more.

For instance, I did my own washing since I was very small. I would wash two sleeves first, one side of the front, another side, and the back. That’s the procedure for washing a blouse.

But when my sisters asked me to wash theirs, I would say a blouse was too large for me. I was too small. As a result, I earned the view of being selfish.

Nowadays I am in the United States, doing phd and other stuff.

I came to deeply resent my experience of this Phd stuff. First, I was forced to write a dissertation that sets the University record for 14 years.

The director of the Dissertation Office, who is a very dependable and respectable man, told me so in his own words. I do not think he was in the mood for joking. He might be joking in the next moment when he remarked the slavery was against the law in the United States, right now.

Does anyone happen to know I wrote the dissertation on a broken heart, too?

That is the reason I came to resent the experience. And the one who forced me to write it. I do not resent the dissertation. I decide it is excellent.

And I do not allow anyone to criticize it. I could literally take down their lives if anybody dares to point their dirty fingers, wagging their malicious tongues, and criticize the kind of work they themselves can never even hope to be able to do in their entire life.

What rights do they have wagging their tongues before me? I could cut their tongues off.


I resent the experience because life is not supposed to be like this. I always do the best I can, no matter under what circumstances.

But one should not be a slave to the work that one  loves to do. That entire life philosophy is wrong.

If your entire goal is to make your life miserable, that is the way to go.

IF there is no joy in creation, then there shall not be creation.

My conclusion: my life has never been this miserable, counting from my earliest days in China’s countryside. I had my freedom. I could go anywhere I wanted. No threat. The villagers did not even lock their doors.

My life here? Somebody is always taking, or stealing, things from me. They take my academic files, my identity, my teaching files, my conference materials, my woolen suits, my shoes, my bank account, my credit history, my journal paper, pretty much everything I own.

In one word, I am totally disgusted with it.

My conclusion: A depressing life is not exactly the life I want. By the way, I do not come all the way, across half of the globe, the real big earth, in order to get myself abused. Period.


I do not want to work myself to death so that some whores can come in and take the fruit of my work; or that somebody else is feeling extremely good about themselves. Or whatever.

I can throw somebody out of my window if they want to make me feel small, or inadequate. I do not care if I love them. That does not give them any right to belittle me. I am not taking that from strangers. Double reasons I am not taking that from a close one.

Being close does not give them the reason, or excuse, to put me down.

I once flared up before a man in front of his own mother when he tried to belittle me over a mere card game.

I also threw him over the wall when he attempted to rein me in as his property.

I do not take that shit from a man. I do not take that shit from any woman, either.

Respect is the first thing I examine.

I seldom become angry. But if I do become angry, someone, or a few, are getting burned severely.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: