Serendipity

1.   Chan, the boy from a different class, had been 'noticing' me for a year before he first talked to me. Just a week before our very first conversation was when I first realized his existence, when I heard rumor from some snickering classmates who said there was a guy "having an interest" in me. Shortly after the rumor spread, Chan several times led his group of friends to my class to take a look at me from the window, during the intercession between classes. To avoid embarrassment and any chance for conversation, I quickly escaped to the female bathroom upon the bell ringing every single time. One night, after the night-study-session (as my middle school is a boarding school), I was walking out of the classroom alone down the dark hallway, and a male voice suddenly called my name. Startled, I slowly turned my back, a dark shadow ...

At times, I ponder if mere survival is already a formidable task, let alone attaining success and happiness, however one might define these elusive states. Discovering a purpose in life is a challenging quest, especially for those who critically question the socially constructed paradigms of a fulfilling existence. I believe a psychologically satisfying life (note: this may not equate to a 'good' life) is comprised of an unending series of goal-oriented endeavors. Our minds must be persistently stimulated by incremental achievements, leaving no room to dwell on the profound, yet unanswerable question: "What is the ultimate purpose of all this?" Jean-Paul Sartre, the renowned French philosopher, posited that humans are condemned to freedom, with our "existence preceding essence." This implies that we first exist, then seek meaning through actions and choices. Unlike a paper cutter, designed with a predetermined purpose, humans are not predestined for anything...

In the gentle embrace of each new dawn, I find a serene joy. It's as if I journey back from a distant realm – my dream world – into the crisp freshness of reality. Upon awakening, a brief amnesia cloaks my mind, sparing me, for a moment, from life's mundane intricacies. In this fleeting interlude, a tender gratitude for life's gift – the simple act of being and returning – brushes my consciousness. Fatigue dissolves into the ether, and each day unfurls before me like an uncharted adventure, imbuing me with a renewed zest to embrace it all anew. Yet, as much as the bliss of sound sleep enchants me, I grapple with the act of surrendering to slumber. My reluctance stems not from a restless mind, but a trepidation of the dream world's capricious nature. Freud whispers of dreams as windows to our deepest, unspoken desires. Neuroscientists ponder over dreams as mysterious cerebral activities, their secrets still largely veiled. And though abnormal psychology speaks of night t...

Social media is like a competitive game where we vie for attention through likes, shares, and comments. It's a delicate dance between seeking fame and maintaining authenticity, leading us to post a mix of positive and negative stories. During a visit to a picturesque garden with a friend, we took several beautiful photos. I was thrilled, anticipating the reactions of my Facebook friends once I shared these images. I was already imagining their comments and likes when I paused, phone in hand, staring at my reflection in the black screen. A sudden realization hit me: I was subconsciously guessing others' reactions and striving to present an idealized version of myself. "What's the point of posting these pictures?" I wondered. "Do they lose their meaning if they're not seen or liked by others?" I struggled to find a satisfying answer. The idea that 'I post, therefore I am' had subtly infiltrated my thoughts. While I intended to share these momen...