victor jr.

two pages, double spaced, part four

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Sun, 12 Jul 2015 21:04:00 +0000

i spent half a year after graduating from teacher's college to finding a new job. i went through times of reflection and brainstorming trying to discover what my career path would be and selectively applying to those that seem to fit. but as time went on, it was easy to become discouraged. i had been away from work for two years and i had to consider money. eventually i started applying to all types of companies and roles that i felt i was equipped for, just to get back into the workforce and continue building experience.

it's been six months since i've been employed as a commercial intelligence analyst. my reflections had transformed from evaluating the teaching profession to not even thinking about it and becoming concerned with fitting into the work culture, trying to make friends (becoming a difficult thing to do for me), and learning the job. the initial learning curve was steep and i felt i had reluctant and unskilled teachers. i felt i was at a place where people only cared about you only if you can do something for them. as a new employee i knew i couldn't do anything for others from a work perspective, and as time went on i was also tempted to only want to care for people if they could do something for me. if people were not interested in engaging with me as a person, then i would rather not talk to them and be on my own. i felt like this culture of selfishness and the necessity to prove your worth to be the culture of this world. selflessness is not only difficult in its regular challenges but it also means relinquishing strength in a survival of the fittest environment.

my thoughts of this new position are as such:

pros:
-excellent commute (10-15 min, no highway driving required)
-good salary and benefits (including a health spending acct, which can be used to pay for the gym located 1 minute away)
-work is challenging and lots of opportunity to learn, whether in transferrable skills or industry specific knowledge
-some minor perks in work provided coffee and other drinks. not a deal breaker
-decent physical work environment (building is recently renovated, good chair and cubicle, passable computer gear)
-close to 404/401 that will help get to places after, not to mention close to home

cons:
-work culture, tough to break into cliques, requires you almost to prove your worth
-no clear path for the position, have to fight for owning work (might be due to lack of experience, but also because of getting a new boss)
-work is very dry, lack of creativity, lack of narrative
-industry is tobacco, not an industry i believe in
-tough learning curve

i decided that it was worth sticking with it for at least a year and embrace the benefits of the job while fighting through the negatives. but this is at the cost of knowing that i did not want to do this work long term. in taking this job, i decided that it was necessary to take a bridge job and view it as a tent making position while searching and investing in what is my true calling.

it's time to do inventory of my skills and experience and continue searching. there's a yearning for working with noble purpose, work for noticeable change, and work with artistic expression and creativity. and to work with joy, passion and devotion to its cause.

hidden stories in future discoveries

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Fri, 30 Jan 2015 00:00:00 +0000

the repeated experience was this.

the every day change in plans, sometimes by myself but sometimes not. but the push was to find that coffee shop that worked best, and to get the computer on. then it was about sifting through internet banality, and dealing with the resistance of inadequacy in job postings and trying to ignore how minuscule you comparatively are. the one measurable positive was how many of my meek credentials did i deposit into the abyss.

but it became easy to see beauty that came through this past year. i can hang my proverbial hat this year and say that i did what i do best.

it's been about everyone else. i can't count how many hours i spent typing on the phone or on the computer or all the meaningful people focused conversations at length or even in passing. i saw broken hearts, friends hurt, lost and confused. we shared ideas with each other. sometimes it was about thinking of solutions and advice, but a lot of times it was just about listening. after a long year, i feel the drag of fatigue through emotions given and taken.

in the end, our burdens will have become stories. hidden stories in future discoveries.

**
it won't be too late. sky will be dark. snow is in the forecast, but driving in waterloo doesn't scare me at all, so i will turn into the burger joint with amy. i can't say what i'm gonna order yet but maybe it'll be the signature burger.

this time i won't be staring at my own reflection.

it'll be whole year, summed up in two sets of burgers and fries.

here, my past burden will become my story.
**

two pages, double spaced, part three

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Wed, 19 Nov 2014 06:37:00 +0000

since graduating from teacher's college, many people have asked me how everything went and what's in store for the future. i've started to struggle with how to answer them, because i had a change of heart.

during grade 10 Gideon winter retreat, steve hawkins was the speaker and one anecdote was particularly memorable to me (or i THINK i was from then). stores like walmart usually have a greeter at the door to greet customers. "hi how are you doing today sir? welcome to walmart". the usual response? "good" or "okay" or "i am fine, thank you". these are expected responses and no one would bat an eye with these responses. and that's because deep down when people ask that question, they don't actually care about how these strangers are doing. so if a person truly takes the question seriously and responds to the greeter with "i'm really not doing so good right now. the job market's been so tough, and my mom recently passed away, and my siblings won't help with the funeral work so i have to do all of it while juggling my kids and trying to put food on the table and..." and so on. the greeter would be taken back and would not know how to respond. because the greeter is already expecting the usual responses. in a world littered with trivial pleasantries, i never liked the truth that people generally don't mean what they say when they ask how they are. something for everyone to think about.

i found myself in similar situations where i would be the one providing the unexpected response, it was up to me to deftly handle the awkward moments. how do you tell someone that you quit your job to go to teacher's college and then you don't want to be a teacher anymore? how do you respond to all the "what the hell is wrong with you?" faces that i was bound to receive?

it's well known to most people that my attitude towards school had become one where school was considered something already easily conquered and in the past. with such confidence, and my reliance on intuitive smarts, much of my powers of observation could be spent on evaluating the teaching industry and the teaching profession itself, and whether it was truly a good fit for me.

this has become a struggle that i had not anticipated when graduating. a result in completing the degree meant opening an addition door for me, but it's become that now i may have too many doors to choose from.

my strengths in teaching
-content knowledge
-ability to discover root of a student's learning struggle and address it directly
-creating some decent lessons, depending on the topic

benefits of teaching
-summers off
-satisfaction of helping kids learn and contribute to paving their future (but it's quite a momentary feeling)
-early end of school day
-utilize what i know to be a spiritual gift of mine (teaching)
-chance to help kids mature (these opportunities are a LOT harder to come by than you would think)
-a place where you don't have to hide your real personality with professionalism (to a certain degree)
-part of a union?

obstacles encountered and foreseen
-classroom management and disciplining (behavioural issues from students)
-dealing with immaturity, impoliteness and other stupid crap
-lack of control of the type of students you deal with and the courses you will teach
-less than ideal paper management (inputs almost always come in mass paper form)
-administrative juggling coupled with constant interruptions, generally requesting to fight fires that are out of your control (students asking you pointless stuff while you're occupied)
-early start time with virtually no flexibility
-required accountability of your lesson plans/long term curriculum planning towards school administration in addition to the required accountability of your student behaviours and results to parents
-competition in the field
-the interview process and the focus on education jargon instead of your ability to teach content
-the amount of time required to do lesson planning and marking (worked from end of 3pm to 1am once)
-the amount of time required for all these things to change (approximately 5 years)
-no vacation time during the school year?
-money?

that's as complete of a list as i've made on paper. once i had a conversation (among many conversations) about not pursuing teaching, and he said "some of those reasons are just shit that you have to suck up and deal with." my response was "and it is my choice as to what type of shit that i want to deal with".

so what happens now? one last post.

two pages, double spaced, part two

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Wed, 16 Jul 2014 20:22:00 +0000

the most valuable lesson of teacher's college was not how they trained me to become a great teacher. the most important thing i learned was the pros and cons of teaching in a public high school. as my year of teacher's college approached an end, i began to change my mind about the teaching profession.

the queens teacher's college program operates as follows: there is a consecutive (meaning subsequently after) program where people that have already completed a degree can do an additional year of schooling to learn about education to supplement their degree. then there is the concurrent (meaning existing simultaneously or side by side) program where undergrads will need to first acquire their four year undergraduate degree in whatever and also take education courses on the side. these are what are actually called colloquially as "con ed students". after graduating from their undergrad, they will take a fifth year, which is the teacher year where they focus on education. this year is shared with consecutive students.

teacher candidates alternate between schooling and practicum experience. practicum schools are assigned to you based on a list of your top 4 school boards. school started in september. in october i had 3 weeks of practicum experience at one high school in my first teachable (math). i was required to teach just one course and shadow the rest of the time. i returned to kingston for more school, and my second practicum slot was in december, and it lasted for 3 weeks at the same school. i was required to teach the same course as before and add one more course to my teaching load. in january i returned to kingston. in february i have a 4 week practicum with another school in my second teachable (physics). i have march break (same time as the kids!) and then i start my 3 week alternative practicum (more on that later). i return in kingston in april for one last month of school and the program is complete.

i've gained an inexplicable connection with mississauga. two co-op terms and many friends either lived there or moved there. peel region was my third choice among school boards and that's where i was placed. over toronto and york region, which would both be geographically closer. in my practicum class, where they gather all the students doing practicum in a geographic region, i was the only person that lives in toronto (though not living farthest away like my buddies from acton or grimsby hahaha).

my engineering education has not only crafted my character but my approach to learning. i wanted to exert the least amount of effort for the most completion and best results. turns out that going through engineering, arguably one of the most rigorous post secondary educations intellectually and emotionally, really can make everything else easy. the most challenging parts of teacher's college were:

-mandatory attendance, especially at 8:30am
-listening to all that blathering about absolutely nothing in pretty much every single lecture and not blowing my brains out. it was like listening to a lawnmower for a year
-countless reflection papers, sometimes requiring academic references (a completely new process for me)
-coordinating group meetings with other people. yes this was a challenge because there were too many group meetings
-doing a project with randoms, where leaders only discretely emerge and never publicly declared, and slackers just as discretely can slack
-the emotions that came with the dread and despair of the amount of competition is in the teaching field and how many hoops need to be jumped through, delivered to us through pseudo-mandatory speaker sessions, obviously and profusely sugar coated
-that girl-guy, white-asian ratio. not particularly challenging but required a little navigating
-being older than everyone, having experienced some living and then become surrounded by a bunch of kids. you don't realize you've grown up until you are surrounded by younger folks and realize that they look up to you

as you can see, teacher's college had some tough times, but overall it wasn't hard at all. deadlines were spread out, and there was so much leeway given by profs that i could take advantage of them really easily. my life experience from engineering as well as in working helped me to exploit every loophole, weigh importance of everything, so that i could do as little work as possible without actually looking like i am not working. so in the end, i got a 3.93 GPA in my first term and a perfect 4.0 GPA in the second term. suck on that, queens.

all of you could have guessed that i can handle teacher's college just fine. more thoughts to come.

two pages, double spaced, part one.

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Tue, 29 Apr 2014 04:11:00 +0000

the queens teacher's college year comes to a close this wednesday april 30. a pillar of teacher's college education is the reflection paper, and we've had to do so many that it has become trite. all the students know what they are looking for, so we give them what they want. despite that, i have been doing my own reflection that i take more seriously. i'll write down a few points here in several posts, because i still need some time to go through my thoughts for the whole year.

**

this year has been a time of meeting new people. in fact i have met a lot more people this year than probably the past five years combined. when i started this program, i did not think it would happen this way but it was a surprise. what i did know early on was that the entire education program had around 600 students, which can be further segregated into different categories. realistically, i would only have the reach of my 5 classes x ~25 students per class = 125 students if interacting with people at 100% effectiveness. that isn't realistic, and i probably fired at more like 10-15%.

but i went into it fairly excited because i had decided this was a year to be away from the chinese christian bubble that i was deep into when i was in waterloo. it was a good chance to become friends with non-christians find a chance to share the gospel (wasn't good at that). the most apparent thing to me had been the age difference. the majority of students here graduated from their undergrad on the previous year, which would make me 5 years older. everyone i've met are mature 23 year olds with some morality that are decently hard working and strive to become good teachers. i participated in their conversations, but the age difference was clear for me. life experience and working made me care less about the outcome of school work. effort wasn't worth it without payout (effort wasn't worth it for me even when i had payout). perhaps it was a confidence that i didn't have to care about anything yet everything will be okay, because i believed that i've done what's needed in the present, and will have what it takes in an uncertain future. maybe i felt older because i haven't truly changed my view that i was supposed to become a student.

meeting people took a quick and progressive turn as there were previous waterloo grads in the program. i took the momentum into my own hands and managed to create a community of chinese christians which i spent the majority of my time with. more on that another time.

here is the lesson that i gained from all this meeting people talk. meeting students is one thing but it was the most amazing meeting people that were:

1. passionate about what they do
2. are good at what they are doing
3. are willing to help you become passionate/become good at their craft

i saw this firstly with some of the profs i had. i had okay relationship with a few of the profs, and found i was able to have more honest conversations with them than i ever did with profs. maybe part of me felt unable to be completely open with the younger folk and the profs were maybe closer in maturity than me? that was funny to think about, that i was old enough to talk to 50+ year olds.

secondly i started going on practicums where i had to work directly with two different associate teachers (as well as their colleagues in the dept, of which some had more impact on me than others). i got an unpaid internship at desire2learn inc no thanks to myself and met many people in my department willing to help me, teach me and become friends at least for the short term. in fact, these were all people that were teaching and preparing me to make an opportunity for myself in the future. my natural response was gratefulness for their efforts, and a slight feeling of being in debt to them too. i also felt a lot of respect for these people who were good in their field, that they are capable of teaching me, yet still do their jobs well.

by now i feel like i have a few people up on pedestals, either by way of respect/gratitude/in debt, or by way of friendship appreciation. i made efforts to network and stay connected with work people, and i've added more people to my network of regular keep up friends to the point that even i thought i was outdoing myself. wouldn't put down my phone. i did my best to create socially successful situations, i provided extra attention to others where necessary, and tried to manage it all like i was conducting an orchestra. it was all a work of art.

i remember that "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." all the people that i love, and all the people that i respect and am in debt to, are sinners just like i am. those people have been great to me, and others have just been average acquaintances, but everyone needs a saviour just like i do. those pedestals don't bring them any closer to Christ. i need to garner my expectations from a reactive place of sheer gratitude/appreciation and couple it with the doctrine that what people do can be valuable but it does not earn our salvation.

the search for love and for passion is on the hearts of everyone, but it must be rooted in the desire for people to know Christ. otherwise everything will go out of control.

two X fourteen = twentyeight

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Mon, 21 Apr 2014 01:36:00 +0000

say whatever youth related cliche you want, but when one can start recalling a memory with the phrase "10 years ago.." where the memory is when you are an adult, then you have surpassed the cliches. you are no longer young at heart. no matter what life stage you are, you are a full fledged adult living an adult life. i came to this realization a few years earlier but now that i have 28, "10 years ago" was 18, considered the official age of adulthood. perhaps last year i psyched myself out with some panic about my life direction, but this year there is no turning back.

don't get me wrong though. when i say that i am old, it is almost always not in a negative light. i do have a level of anxiety regarding life direction just like anyone else would. i recognize that i have taken a step back in the general perceived pace of both career path and with relationships compared to the many of my peers, and with that are their associated challenges. but being older has also been a celebration of collected experiences that can be rummaged through like a case of miscellaneous trophies, perhaps taken out to admire and reflect upon at the right moment. younger folk have empty cases.

for me, it's also been a relief not to have to go through certain firsts again. at least now they will be seconds or thirds. my signature cynicism is still accepting applicants, but current members need not reapply. for a slower admission, i would have a bit of relief.

one of the most valuable parts of age is.. backing. my life experience gives me backing for the future.

in honour of twenty eight years, this is written based on the numerology as written in the title. and so, here are fourteen dualities for you to think about. and for me to decide.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

introversion - in the quiet. in the stillness. watch, think, observe, learn.

extroversion - a life of the party, while secretly drawing in outsiders to create life of their own.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

tragedy - welcomes pain because adapted to pain, absorb pain. romanticizing sacrifice.

comedy - everything is funny. let's make everyone's day!

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

compassion - i don't shy away from pain but i want to take it away from everyone else.

narcissism - my way or the highway. can't see you can't hear you.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

visionary - inspire machine, seek for me a new song, a new idea. paint for me a palette of new futures.

execution - right now, you can't stop me from doing anything else but this. damn right i'm good at it.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

diligence - goal setting, focus, brute force, silence until completion.

apathy - freecell.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

bitterness - it's half empty because.

acceptance - there isn't any way you can come to me that i will not accept.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

creation - give every opportunity to fail 100 times just for the 1 masterpiece.

consumption - i'm here thirsting for analysis, for thinking, for knowledge, for news, for sports news, for entertainment news, for movies, for shows. for just sitting here, consuming.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

the munchings of a considerate narcissist

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Fri, 17 Jan 2014 05:29:00 +0000

it was late. the sky was black, with light rain sprinkling, as a typical fall night would in toronto. i had just finished watching a movie with a friend and on my way home. I did not have much food before the movie, and by now my hunger governed me to detour to a burger joint. i found one still open and entered. There was a surprising number of people inside considering the time, so i had to line up to order.

i ordered their signature burger, fries and a small drink. with my tray, i picked a spot away from people and took a seat. i was ravenous by then, and wasted no time to open up my burger while devouring the fries. when i was able to catch a breath, i realized i was sitting across from the window, and i could see own reflection in the window while looking out. there i was, one guy, eating a burger, stoic, darkness surrounding me. then i realized that this was an image of one of the most lonely and self-serving experiences i could have.

the image stared back at me, and asked me how I got to this place. it was this whole year, summed up in one burger and fries: it was delicious; it was unhealthy. it was hopeful; it was anxiety. it was caring; it was selfish.

there is freedom knowing that there is an end to what is not right for you. I believed that there was no point being less than satisfied with something I know I could do but not believe the heart of. early this year I made the first high risk decision of my life to quit my stable job. I made my second high risk decision of my life to apply for teacher's college. this was partially based on one statement "you don't want to one day regret not trying it". high risk decisions get rave reviews. my favorite response was "are you sure?" and people ask about it all the time, which I guess is nice, but seems to me like there isn't much thought put into the questions or they are just misinformed. when people get asked the same question over and over again, we feel bad to give you a crappy answer. I recently heard of one fellow's strategy to not tell anyone any details at all about plans until it is fully completed, so that questions don't get asked. fair or unfair? I faced a year of my family's intermittent disapprovals and manipulative tactics leaving stability to insecurity. by definition, there is no certainty in a high risk decision. you have to make a high risk decision some time if you are going to make a decision for yourself, for better or for worse.

this year has been the biggest year for weddings yet. there were friends and close friends and closest friends getting married. it is wonderful for couples to prepare for their next stage of life, and for them to invite their friends to be a witness to their union. with that comes the celebration and the fun. this year I invented the term "wedding effects". due to the emotions and the atmosphere of a wedding, people have an increased impatience to move to the next stage. there was one rather absurd discussion about not liking their seating arrangement because the seating arrangement clearly reminded him or her of their current stage. these things are never a "at least you are not at this previous stage" even though that may be the first thing you want to say to such a person. but you do not. I invented the term but I think wedding effects led me to do some funny things this time around. silly rabbit. so being a part of a wedding is a great joy. you get to share a moment of spotlight with your friend who deserves all the spotlight then. and people get to see that you were a somebody at least at some point in that person's life. and strangers will have to take that at face value. attention seeking plus wedding effects is a cocktail drug. there's all that fuel about "yeah ladies he's single" and given the opportunity to look good out there, you might as well increase your odds. apparently there was a guy that was surprised that I was single. I had a few mixed emotions when it was all over.. the excitement of "look at me!" plus the joy of "be happy for them!" and the outside talks of "did you meet someone at the wedding this time". after much rational thought, I thought I did splendid.

which leads me to this.
the considerate narcissist.
by appearance a narcissist, but at heart a lover. maybe to a fault.
it's what i've thought is right, for better or for worse.

i check my phone out of habit. there were no messages. i was already finished my burger.
wanting to look back at the reflection no more, i left the restaurant and drove home.

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Fri, 17 Jan 2014 05:10:00 +0000

there was one comment a few weeks ago that was given to me that i accepted quickly and without much thought.

in the occurrence of a once-in-twenty-years ice storm in toronto,

i did not see a tree in the middle of my lane leading me to damage the passenger door, and

a large block of ice flew off the car ahead of me and smashed my windshield.

and i felt unfortunate that this would all happen to me all at once despite not having any car accidents in the 10 years that i've driven. the cost of these events were high, both financially, emotionally, mentally, in a place where admitting my mistakes is no console. because of all of this, i felt i deserved vindication.

then someone said "it's statistical probability."

any student of probability and statistics can tell you that.. probability and statistics have no feelings. so why should i have any feelings? why should i deserve vindication? why would a dice seek vindication for rolling one number over any other?

***

probability is a tool that God can use.
and we remember:

we can end our own cycle of shame and begin a cycle of hope.

we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. romans 5:3-4.

the problem of sleep #5

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Thu, 28 Nov 2013 05:08:00 +0000

my university schedule term has two 8:30's, two 9:30's and one day where class doesn't start until 3:50 pm. it didn't take long for me for me to encounter again my familiar struggle of sleep.

just because it's only the 5th, doesn't mean this hasn't been going on for long.

well it's been back in full force. part of it is the optional nature of classes (most classes are mandatory), but also the need/desire to stay up late to do ____________, or the lack of desire to go to sleep, or also the insatiable desire for satisfaction in entertainment that leads to a late night. the late nights usual result in a high risk wake up for the early class, or the higher probability of sleeping in and waking up at noon. this usually perpetuates into a cycle, requiring a gargantuan effort to break. challenges to break the cycle include staying up and being useful while tired for an entire day, fighting naps, fighting itis,

anyway, this is nothing new and has been written about here 4 times. what is new is more obstacles to go against sleep than before, and more resilience to stay awake late. the high probability sleeping in occurs enough and keeps me awake late into the night. then 3 am became commonplace, so did 4 am, and sometimes 5 am. by the time it gets to those hours, it was absolutely impossible getting up for early classes.

most people do not understand that this isn't so easy as "just sleep earlier" without considering all the external factors, which frustrates me greatly. if it was easy then i would have already done it.

i had some discussion about my cycles, and he suggested that i take melatonin. after some research, i purchased a bottle (located in the vitamins section) and ingested a 3 mg tablet. after sleeping at 5 am the previous night, i aimed to sleep at 2 am. it appeared to have worked, and at least i shifted back 3 hours and am aiming to eventually have an average sleep time of 1 am. i have taken only one pill so far.

here's a little bit on melatonin:

The hormone melatonin helps control your natural sleep-wake cycle. Natural levels of melatonin in the blood are highest at night. Some research suggests that melatonin supplements might be helpful in treating jet lag or reducing the time it takes to fall asleep — although the effect is typically mild. Melatonin might be more effective for other types of sleep issues, such as delayed sleep disorder or sleep disorders affecting circadian rhythm.

If you're considering taking melatonin supplements, check with your doctor first — especially if you have any health conditions. The correct dose depends on the intended use. For example, circadian rhythm sleep disorders are often treated with 0.5 milligrams of melatonin a day, while doses of 3 to 5 milligrams a day might be used to treat jet lag or reduce the time it takes to fall asleep. In addition, remember that melatonin is generally recommended only for short-term use — up to two months. Some research indicates that longer term use might be appropriate in certain cases, however.

If you take melatonin, choose commercial supplements produced in a lab. Melatonin supplements made from animal sources might contain various contaminants. Don't engage in activities that require alertness — such as driving or operating heavy machinery — for four to five hours after taking melatonin.

playing my part in the drama

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Mon, 03 Jun 2013 04:59:00 +0000

this past weekend may 31-june 2 was the scbc english retreat, and the speaker invited was a man by the name of sunder krishnan, the senior pastor of rexdale alliance church. i want to jot down a few notes about sermons this weekend before i lose them.

sermon 1: integration
the scripture is not simply a combination of books and letters, but actually a script for the drama of redemption. consisting of the following acts:

Act 1: Creation
Act 2: The Fall of man
Act 3: The call of Israel
Act 4: Jesus
Act 5: Scene 1: The writing of the new testament, Scene 2: Our lives today

Act 5 is still going on today, and we are all a part of it. no one in a play only thinks about their own role, but also the role of everyone else, and more importantly, the director and producer. therefore, we ought to stop looking at the world through our own lenses and looking only at our own personal circles of influence. we ought to look through the world through jesus' lenses, the director and producer. we are not spectators waiting till the end of the show, but active participants waiting to take our cues from the director. we need to stop be so consumed with our own lives that we only have time to watch the drama, but we must integrate every part of our lives into the drama of redemption.

sermon 2: investment
we care about something when we have an investment in it. abraham was invested in sodom because his nephew lot was there, leading him to intercede to God. if we were invested in our missionaries, then it would lead us to care for them. our missionaries that work and serve God require refreshment and encouragement. for those of us who aren't in those roles, we ought to provide this refreshment to them. through investing in the missionaries, we would be compelled to serve them.

i thought this message was different from anything i've heard, because the church had always called us just to become missionaries in our own circles of influence. we all come up with excuses not to do our mission, our part in the play, but do we have excuses not to do the ministry of refreshing and encouraging? that is directly related to who we are willing to invest in. this investment includes good contact and communication, and showing hospitality, giving gifts and serving other practical needs. on the concept of investment, i was reminded of a person that sells. people only sell objects that they have an investment in. would they ever advertise something that they do not have any investment in? which means that when they sell this to you, they are thinking not of your benefit, but their own investment. let our investments not be of ourselves but of our brothers and sisters.

sermon 3: intercession
abraham's prayer/dialogue with God about sodom and gomorrah was not only the first intercessory prayer in the bible, but the first documented cross cultural intercessory prayer in history. intercessory prayer should be "less a polite religious monologue than it is haggling in the marketplace". this action was also the first action that abraham did after God changed his name from abram to abraham, meaning "father of many", as a sign of his covenant with him being the father of many nations. when abraham was haggling with God regarding the number of righteous people that live in sodom and gomorrah before God would spare the entire land, abraham's faith had grew and shifted and he was able to be at peace with God's commands. but abraham was also able to have a mixture of boldness and humility to approach God. we too need that mixture of humility and boldness.

i had always thought that the phrases that abraham used in that conversation such as "if i may be so bold to speak to the Lord" and the like were simply phrases to cover his butt from being destroyed, very similar to those that say "no offense" and then proceed to offend you. i don't find that kind of conversation so "bold". i don't think we have it in us to be as "bold" as abraham was, or how moses was, or any other examples of bold encounters in the bible. but we have Jesus as our savior, and he is our intercessor to God. because of Jesus, we can be as bold as we can be to God.

aragorn II, son of arathorn

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Mon, 08 Apr 2013 03:09:00 +0000

most people do not fully understand why i like lord of the rings so much, and generally attribute it to me being a total geek. whether i am a geek or not can be debated, but that is not the reason.

i could speak about how grand the world is or how richly the cultures, languages, and way of life were created by tolkien, or how in depth the history of middle-earth was and how many events in lord of the rings could be explained by previous historical events from the hobbit or the silmarillion, or how it is the perfect story of good triumphing over evil. but as amazing as all these things are, the real reason is because the story of middle-earth is the gospel. most people think that the most important character of the lord of the rings is frodo, and to a certain degree that is true. frodo experienced pain and torment through the one ring and ultimately encountering sauron, but his final triumphant destruction of the ring may overshadow everything that aragorn had done.

aragorn is the most incredible character in the lord of the rings, and arguably the most incredible character in the entire middle-earth. he has been in countless times where he's had to question who he is. and he would eventually accept his identity and rise up to live it out.

aragorn was the son of arathorn, the surviving descendants of elendil and heir to both gondor and arnor. his father arathorn was killed by an orc ambush and aragorn became the sole heir at a young age. aragorn was then sent to rivendell to be raised by elrond. his mother gilraen decides that his lineage should be hidden from him until he comes of age so as to protect the last living heir. so he was given the name "estel" which means "hope". aragorn was to be the hope of men. at age 20, elrond revealed his true name and lineage to him, and gave him two artifacts: the ring of barahir (ancient artifact signifying lineage) and the shards of the sword narsil, which belonged to isildur his ancestor, used to cut the one ring off of sauron's hand. more importantly, he learned that he descended from a line of ancient kings of men. aragorn descended from the line of numenor, blessed with strength, wisdom, resilience, and long life. but elrond withheld the sceptre of annuminas from him. he will only receive the sceptre when he earned the right to possess it as the king.

a man can be told they are a king. but will he choose to live as a king?

after this, aragorn masked his identity and dedicated many years in the wilderness to train and fight against evil. he served thengel the father of theoden in rohan. he served ecthelion the father of denethor in gondor. he met gandalf and had many adventures together, eventually leading the dunedain (rangers of the north) to guard the borders of the shire to protect the hobbits. eventually his ultimate mission was placed upon him to join the fellowship of the ring and aid the ringbearer in his quest. the rest of that story should be familiar to most people, but i want to highlight a few things that most people would completely miss.

a pivotal event in the lord of the rings was aragorn's decision to take the paths of the dead and summon the dead men of dunharrow. these men had promised isildur many years ago that they would come to his aid when he calls. but when isildur called in his dire need, they abandoned him. so isildur cursed them and they would never find peace until they repaid their debt to the heir of isildur. we all know that summoning the dead men of dunharrow completely turned the tides of the battle at minas tirith. but what do you think aragorn was thinking? was this going to WORK? will these dead people honour their debt?

and ultimately, am i really the heir of isildur?

a second event was aragorn's use of the palantir (seeing stone) to look for sauron the enemy. there he showed his enemy that the heir of isildur was still alive, and that he wielded the sword that cut the one ring off his finger. this served as a distraction to frodo who was bringing the ring closer and closer to mount doom. he followed this up with the final battle to fight sauron right at the black gate. at the enemy's own front door.

will sauron take the bait? did sauron truly know the worth of the heir of isildur?

at the conclusion of the final battle, aragorn claims his kingship of gondor and arnor, and he is crowned with an ancient crown, given the sceptre of annuminas and the elfstone elessar, all of which finally signifies his kingship.

the person of aragorn is about identity, which has been an ultimate question for me, and why i've related so much to his character. do you know who you are? do you know that you are an heir of God and co-heirs with Christ? if you finally know that in your heart, then will you rise up and live in that identity?

thirteen.

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Mon, 07 Jan 2013 05:44:00 +0000

the new year arrives. it's been a year that to some was highly anticipated, only if for the comedic collapse of life as we knew it. we all exhale a sigh of fake relief and inhale as we brace the old turning the corner into the new.

what would you recount this past year? what would you raise up for the new year? there is a fascination of rises, runs, dips and falls, each valued or shunned differently by a different person, that one person's rise could be another's fall. it's a complex mosaic, only as beautiful as the perceiver. or as ugly.

with that, two thousand thirteen bids for thirteen thoughts from victor. in order from the simple to the abstract.

1. a return to blogging and written thought. this past year has been absolutely sparse. a weak effort overall. sometimes stems from the expectation to write a good work, comes down to lack of focus and laziness. a simple and literal jot down could do wonders.

2. leads to a rejuvenated desire for literature and wrote thought. i will lift my 2012 book ban for the new year, allowing me to both purchase books and pick up books from the library. still no excuse not to continue reading the 100+ books i already have. but now i am open to suggestions from everyone. bring it on.

3. it's become the right time to properly study the culinary arts. it's never too early to start to build the foundation of making delicious food. and we do it victor style: by reading a book.

4. with heavy emphasis on general arts, it has been musical arts that has been neglected. in the instrument department, and also in finding new music to appreciate. neutral here, no immediate plans.

5. with heavy emphasis on general arts, something more has got to give. there was an overwhelming burden of entertainment. entertainment needs to stop draining me. maybe what i need is enrichment. no concrete plans of execution yet, but limiting to one or two tv shows only not unreasonable.

6. there also needs to be an end to the enamoring of celebrity and make believe beauty. welcome a restoration of reality.

7. and the current reality has dulled my senses. i'm only feeling remnants of previous acute focus, perhaps then driven by deeper and darker emotion. a more stoic self may need clearance of distractions.

8. and reestablished sense would allow me to exercise reflective muscle. finally i would see what is going on again. could bring me back to.. a return to blogging and written thought. which leads to..

9. a never ending circle? let me achieve nirvana by escaping the circle.. with a look at emotions. stoic can't possibly be real, can it? maybe a hidden insult, but the constant affection and outpouring of hidden emotion, even done in secret should at least show its edges. worried the day true emotions appear in full.

10. a boy and a girl.

11. feeling the effects of initial "one to few", the transition to "one to many", now become "one to too many". it's slipping through. there is no magical unlimited.

12. proverbs 16:9. anticipated.

13. a trip to the mall. mental image. need. a brush through fabric, then a swipe of plastic, and it would be something held in grasp. so much harder that your true mental wants and needs could be in grasp. many times there is nothing to swipe or grasp. so the mental would never become physical, you couldn't breach the divide. others become reality in its place. oh the comedy of reaching your hands for simple air. find the right thought. and reach.

with that, here's to a great 2013.
victor

the thrill of the fight

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Thu, 30 Aug 2012 05:15:00 +0000

just now i did a quick scroll through of my greader to look through the posts of various friends. a lot of them share and document the struggles of their lives. it was admirable to see. others display the qualities of prominent people and draw upon them for lessons for us regular folk. none of these qualities are just inherited or easily acquired, but requires sweat and tears and pain and endurance.

each of these people have shown real struggle. they have taken the time to understand what is in front of them (or at least trying), and managed their own skills and resources to brace themselves for a difficult time. and then they come out with a lesson and something worth recounting. something that makes them a greater person.

i love and respect all the people that had true tribulations and rise to the meet the challenge, and display their inner strength. i think despite how a lot of people are battered and bruised with life, deep within their hearts there is a spark that relishes in the victory. welcoming the pain because of greater glory.

with that has come disappointment in how i've shied from a lot of the big questions waiting for me to be answered. how long will i wait? can't rely on God, can't even rely on myself. clouded my mind, no longer can hear myself think. i haven't been able to get myself to confront struggle, let alone engage it. when is it time to stop dancing around my fake struggles, disguising themselves from what they truly are, simply petty desires and wants.

but this past week, some people did not have any choice to fight. a tragic plane crash leaves four bombardier employees dead and four families absolutely shattered. aged 27, 23, 20, 19, three distinct life stages all cut short. today i went to a muslim funeral, where they praised their god, submitted to his ways and made no mention of the deceased. i did not know them all well. but when someone that you see every day is no longer there, the pain/void is deafeningly obvious. and i didn't even know them all well. one more funeral to come. praying for all the families.

i've come to learn that the greatest in victor lau is his heart. waiting for the day that his heart will rise, awaken and be healed, ready to fight again.

greatness part 2

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Mon, 14 May 2012 04:30:00 +0000

ten thousand meters.
that is the distance from my house to my workplace. my house to my church. a distance that i drive in my car on a regular basis. and i wouldn't do it any other way.

not always so for some others.

that is a distance far enough for pain, heavy breathing, and needing sheer will just to push forward. at least for me.

there's a competitive spirit in all of us, some more and some less. the fine line between the two may simply be a willingness to try.

who doesn't like glory? the story of the young and inexperienced, training and fighting against all odds, but through the barrage of trials, comes out all the stronger, the wiser, and the greater. it's so great a story that we are all drawn to it.

can't we just be trying to get from A to B?

getting something done doesn't make you great. if we try to give ourselves glory, the real reason for that is because we are selfish. and it took me so long to realize that greatness isn't from what you do. what you do IS great, but it does not make you great. and so all the status, class, and your material things that were gained by what you do, also does not make you great.

i understand now. the allure of human greatness, all the arrows pointing to their heart and soul, fully on display for the world to see and hear. why do we want to earn our way to greatness? because we are selfish. and everyone else earning their way to greatness is doing it because they are doing it for themselves.

but maybe that's what exactly they are doing, just getting A to B. and the training and the fighting, minus the glory. and just like myself, they are just trying to get there. they desire the humility of their rawness and the journey to refinement. just trying to get by.

so really, there is no earning greatness. for those of you who may think so, get it out of your head (including me). God, the truly unselfish one, is the only one that is great.

took me a darn year to figure this out.

to all my friends who ran the 10k run. congratulations! you worked hard and trained hard and i probably couldn't do it half as well as you. you are all pretty great.

greatness part 1

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 03:42:00 +0000

in the past few months of blogging silence, i've spent much of my time thinking about greatness. i let it sit on my hand, feeling its weight, grasping its elusive textures and contours, formless yet gloriously obvious. you would know greatness when you see greatness. but when you search for the path, it escapes you like graceful deer in a heavy forest. how do you become great?

i think all of our lives are asking that question. and ever since we were small children, we've been fabricating make believe answers for the lofty question. we grow up and foolishly think that we've got it all figured out, greatness at hand. my first principle of greatness was humour. i saw that the funny people were always the most loved and the most popular, and that was what i wanted. so i made it a life goal to be a funny guy, emersed myself in the art of sarcasm, subtle wordplay. blunt truths, expert comedic timing and creative genius, practiced and perfected. unexpectedly, this was not well received everywhere, leaving a laughter that was hollow, empty. quiet.

then there was the arts and sciences. creativity and intellect. the intellect has become a cornerstone of who i am. the more you know, the more you can offer to those around you, the greater you can be. there was a heavy emphasis on reading, learning, thinking and reflecting on the world and of its deepest realms of thought. the arts had initially been thurst upon me, led first by grueling training sessions of music resembling certain torture scenarios, but eventually developing into a keen interest, coming to its own. and ultimately the coming together of both faculties was the art of the written word. writing. the beauty of life is embedded a gem of an invention: the story. the depth of knowledge and the artistry of music could be utilized simultaneously to create a synergistically beautiful and powerful piece. unfortunately, both faculties had also diverged upon a formidable obstacle: hard work.

options were running thin. i had little hope in the faculty of the phsyical sport. historically i had not been good (not even great) at sports, and there was no sign of this changing throughout the years. but i realized that if one showed interest in a sport, you didn't have to be great at it. you just needed to try, and then have fun with it. and as long as you knew enough about the right sports teams, then you were good. but not great. to my fortune, i learnt that the many years of frustration of not being good at some sport, getting dominated by the more athletic, the more skilled and the physically superior peers around me, was normal and acceptable. thank you God that greatness is not measured by this because i would have absolutely no hope here.

there is one more thing that i can say about greatness to me. people. i think that great people care about other people. my life had changed one fateful day when i was in grade 7 with these 8 numbers: 27830663. my first ICQ account. the world of instant messaging had opened the realm of communication like never before, and i can honestly say that my sleep habits began to change that very day. it was fun, but it was also relentless, unwavering, and to this day that i would have used every tool in my chatting arsenal just to see how a friend is doing and how i could make their day better, or how we could get to know each other more, or just to make them laugh. finally, nothing bad to say here.

so with that foundation, i had felt ready to take on anything. i was on the brink of greatness, right?
well i just told you that victor lau the great was just a guy who was kinda funny, was above average in music and knew a bit more stuff, and was bad at sports and spent his time talking to a lot of people. that's not that great. except that i was the only one that thought i was one of a kind.

okay, so if i don't have it right, what are some other people doing? i started to look arouund.
i didn't like what i saw. the prevalence of what could only be obscurely labelled "pop culture", was king. the ability to replicate that song, that dance, the celebration of the mere playing of the song, the actual culture that those artists produced. what was the purpose of posing like a gangster in a photo, or acting like one? or even resembling just parts of their lifestyle? to me, that is the opposite of greatness. the rebel nature for the purpose of greatness can only be true if there were tangible (and legal) results. some people lived like they only can be with those of a certain level of greatness, and others outside that are secondary. this felt to me like an insult to the one thing i thought i was okay at. if all these things are what makes people great, then something is wrong because i didn't think it was all that great.

something is wrong.

please stay tuned for part two.

element

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Sun, 29 May 2011 04:48:00 +0000

have you ever been "in the zone"?

of course you have.

it's when you don't feel anything in your limbs when you grip a stick, a bat, a ball, except for the power you are about to release. you do, and it's perfect, just the way you want it.

or it's when you're in that exam room, paper in front, pencil in hand. the daunting thought that this exam is worth 70% of your final grade, and that the failure of this course would mean not meeting the requirements of acquiring your degree, and it would mean another year of your life delayed, that thought is no longer in your mind. it's been taken care of. instead, your mind churns the thick analysis, supported by intricate mental calculations, working as gears meshing in a complex machine. and then you write it down.

whether you hold your breath, or you are catching your breath.. don't you love it? don't you love it when you are in the zone? when you are in your element, doing what you do best, what you trained to do for so long, and now it's time to see what you have to show for? you can't think of anything else, because you know you can't fail, because you know that when you're in the zone, it's not possible to fail.

so you're unstoppable.

so did you ever wish that you were in the zone all the time? why can't we get there, all the time?

then when it's time that you need it most, you try to pull it out, but it doesn't come. uncomfortable fidgeting, searching but not finding, and everything blows by past you, leaving you in the embarrassing dust. and it leaves you wonder, that wouldn't have happened if you were only in your element.

why can't we always be in our element?
or are we left stuck out of it, hoping to relish those short moments your element decides to make a visit?

fit, form, function.
function, fit, form.
form, fit, function.

something about april...

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 03:06:00 +0000

that softening of spring,
that brisk air concealed as the warm

or is it the rise from darkness to light
the loss of sleep for the price of that bright
sun, that makes you want to sing

eyes adjust to the dormant brown, and the green,
then bursting forth, glorious day
the death, the rebirth, the glorious life

surely it must be it, surely it must be the sheen,
like the gentle tearing of shiny wrap

so maybe it is.
so maybe it is so.
but there is just something about april that is
a soft spot in my heart.

beauty, warmth, laughter, mystery,
richness.

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 04:43:00 +0000

thinking about my tendency to be given something to do but not want to do it and pushing it off until the last minute. wondering why that is.

thoughts from a twenty-five year old

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Sun, 13 Feb 2011 03:19:00 +0000

in a universe with an infinity of numbers, you are able to find two little numbers that describe exactly the years you have lived on the earth. each pair of numbers speak their own stories. one hundred is a symbol of wholeness. one whole pie. well this number is exactly one quarter of wholeness, one slice of four. no one likes their slice broken in pieces, or with a bite taken out of it.

just a number?

it was the number that said it was serious now. you wanted some kind of status, so it gave you it, maybe because it got tired of you asking for it. did it work? everyone thinks that it did.

it teaches you things too. it told me that no matter what the new number is, you will still be learning about who you are. you thought that you had figured it out already, but you change as fast as the number does. feel the uncomfortably foreign next number roll off your lips. you aren't there anymore.

but why the numbers are really there
is so that you can hide who you are behind it
and hope that no one can see through them

i contorted my body to the curve of the two and held it for as long as i could, torso forward, arms up but with nothing to hold onto. wouldn't mind taking a break. i think i'm losing balance now. could see the dim light not hidden by the shade.

like my quarter wholeness is going to burn away from the light..

every number telling its own story. why can't i tell the story? why do i have to do what it says? it's the story already written. i want to reach, but i wouldn't let me. says i can't break the rules. i wanted to break the rules so badly, write the story my way, ever so carried by the current of the story. i told you, i was drawn by them. we're all drawn by them and we listen to them, waiting for more to be heard, enjoyed and relived in our mind. but the greatest fear is the fear of writing your own story, your way.

just a number.

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Tue, 18 Jan 2011 01:20:00 +0000

after a few months away from blogging, a month of writing, and countless hours trying to think, here's a post from the west. pondering dilemmas, sifting through artistic metaphors, weeding distractions trying reach the depths of something resembling a heart, revising definitions in the dictionary of life.

once i find my voice again, i'll come back.

end of nanowrimo

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Fri, 10 Dec 2010 06:24:00 +0000

for those of you that have been following, i've been working on a novel contest that challenging writers to write 50,000 words in the month of november. because i started 9 days late, i needed 9 more days to finish. i reached 50,000 words today, writing 6000 words on my last day. i more or less was writing the entire day.

so what happens now? the story isn't quite finished yet, so i will continue the story until i'm done. in the meantime, i will be looking for a couple people to do an initial edit on the first 75% of the story to get an opinion to see what i can do better. if you are interested in reading a 94 page story and have the ability to analyse the quality of fiction, then let me know. i am willing to print it out for you if you're in toronto.

only going to get one or two people for now since i'm not done the whole story yet.

victor

chapter 1 preview

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Tue, 16 Nov 2010 07:17:00 +0000

It was the sound in between a trumpet and a dying horse. In intervals. Their repeated calls beckoned for me to one simple thing. And that was to wake up.

I resist because I often feel like there is little difference to getting up now and getting up later. Was it going to make a difference? We don’t get much business, seeing how the emergence of the latest giant bookstores has stolen all the customers. No one really comes anymore.

But my duty stands firm. I had signed a clear contract some four years ago, stating that I will pledge to dedicate my time and energy for the bookstore, arriving to the store early to set up and staying late to clean up. Such a pledge was signed and agreed with the vision of a growing movement to readership, and a store hustling and bustling with customers. For people who search for rare books for interest or for research. I saw men and women, boys and girls, coming to the store to ask for books about Aztec Indians, apple picking, ant farms and asparagus. And it would be my glorious duty to direct them to our collection. Our collection, fierce and relentless.

Its ferocity was defanged by the coming of large corporation bookstores.
The alarm clock screamed. I couldn’t bear it anymore and turned it off. 7:30. I got out of bed.

As I headed to the washroom outside my room, I couldn’t hear my parents downstairs. I guess that they are already gone. My parents are early risers, and would usually be out of the house by then. Gray walls stare at me. I stare back.

I let myself starve this morning because I had let myself sleep more. 7:45. The bus normally stops by my house at 7:51, which meant I had a bit of time to turn on the television. I put on clothes and left the door.

I was greeted by wetness. The skies were gray as well. It rained hard and I didn’t find the weather channel in time to tell me that it was raining. My sweatshirt began to soak up rain as I fumbled in my pockets for keys. My wallet was in the way. I reached in my right jean pocket to find it empty. I must have left my keys in the house and locked myself in the house. I checked my watch. It also wasn’t there. It was turning to be a good start of the day, but I walked down the steps of my house and went to the side door, hoping that it was carelessly left unlocked. I pulled the handle but it wouldn’t give. It felt like my six minutes were almost up, so I was left to decide whether it was important to even get an umbrella by now. Sweatshirt soaked to the skin, my hair began to mat against my head. I shrugged and ran to the bus shelter covering.

“You’re soaking wet, Roger.”
“Morning to you too, Eileen.” Eileen was a lady that takes the same morning bus as me. I’ve seen her almost every day for the past four years. But I’m not much of a talker and neither was she, so it’s not like we’ve become best friends. But Eileen works in some big company downtown and takes the bus all the way to the subway. Of course, she was always dressed professionally. Today she was in a black dress suit with a long gray raincoat over it. She was not soaking wet. In fact, water beaded and fell effortlessly over her gray raincoat. Did she pick this raincoat to match with the sky? I didn’t ask her.

“I forgot to check the weather on the news, and then I forgot my keys in the house.”
She laughed. The bus came and we went on the bus.

My bookstore is located in a small mall. It’s more of a local mall, with many apartments and condominiums across from it. So the mall serves a large population, but some of the apartments are quite old, and I’m pretty sure down the street is an old folks home. The people shopping around the mall end up being old people or immigrants. So the problem with a lot of our customers is either they can’t see the words or they can’t understand words. Our collection of foreign books is actually sparse. As I walked through the mall I realized that my clothes were still quite wet, and I hoped that I had an extra sweater or something left at the back of the bookstore. My jeans were wet too but there was nothing I could do about that.

BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS was the name of our bookstore. I’m the one in charge of opening up the bookstore. My separate bookstore keys were in my backpack, so that I would never leave those keys at home. I turned the key into the glass panel locks and slid them into the slot. I flicked the switches to give life to the white fluorescent tubes in the ceiling. There was no denying that the bookstore was a mess. It takes a seasoned employee like me to know the location of a book. If a customer tried to find something, it may take them an hour. But it would take me seconds. So our book organization may need some work. It’s because some of our books have been here since the beginning of this bookstore, but no one has bought those books. And as we received newer books, they would take places around the older ones and eventually get buried. I had always tried to think of a clever way to organize the books but couldn’t figure out the best way. Is alphabetical the best way?

Mornings always start slow. After flicking on the lights, turning on the computer at the cashier and the back room, set up was more or less done. Every other Friday new books are sent in. Apart from some sweeping and organizing, my main job is then to stand there and hold the fort. Mornings are slow because there aren’t really that many people up this early. Seniors.

I made it a goal to reach 1000 wins on Freecell. The mornings give me a good chance to get a head start on it. Right now I have 572 wins. It takes hard work and perseverance to achieve this goal.

The morning went on with no customers for two hours until my boss showed up. Engle Tannenbaum is the owner of the store and generally shows up at around 10:30. It’s his store, so he shows up whenever he wants. He usually shows up without fatigue in his eyes, and his large gut protruded from his pants looking satisfied with itself. I suspect that he has a big breakfast each morning after sleeping plenty.
“Hey Engle. Quiet morning so far,” I said.

“Yeah, I can tell. It’s because I’m not here yet.” I admit that Engle did have a knack for livening up the store. He has a bit of charm that can entice customers to stay for conversation. Engle says that building relationships are the best way to bring in customers. I personally didn’t think so. I think prices are the best way to entice customers. People will always have reading needs, and as I mentioned will always need a good book at some point. Good prices will draw customers to buy our books. If we had bad prices, no one will buy our books.

But Engle says build relationships. I don’t usually do that.
I surrendered my place at the cashier while Engle took its place. I headed to the back to sort books. I got 11 wins and 4 losses in Freecell. It was good but not amazing. As I left the counter, Engle sneered.

“Freecell again. What if a customer sees this? I don’t want to see you and your ridiculous goal.”
“Comon, it helps with the quiet times.”
“There are no quiet times, you’re hired to do work here.”

I was reminded about my duty again, and headed to the back without protest. Before I closed the door behind me, I heard Engle’s boisterous European voice greeting people coming into the store. Coming into the store.

The back room was even messier than the front, as there was a multitude books stacked all over the tables and floors. My job is to sort them into categories and then alphabetize them by author. But there are a lot of books. I usually do this for one or two hours until lunch. Steinbeck, Steele, Stepanak.

The food court today was quiet. I ordered a beef fried rice from the Oriental Food Court, like I usually order. There isn’t much selection in this mall, so I’ve narrowed it down to a number of selections, and I would generally rotate every so often. Today was beef fried rice. I watched at the table in front of me as Engle ate and talked loudly with other store owners. A third employee named Kyle would come at noon to watch the store, so that I could have lunch. Sometimes Engle would watch the store during my lunch, but usually he would much rather come out to talk with his friends and let Kyle watch the store himself. I guess Kyle eats lunch before he gets here. The rest of the day runs a lot smoother with Kyle, because I would have someone to talk to. The three of us would each have someone to talk to. Myself with Kyle and Engle with customers. And Kyle. Kyle’s only worked at the store for a year, but he is good at what he does. Having known him for this year, we’ve also become friends instead of coworkers. We would talk about things other than books at the bookstore. At the end of the work day, we would leave together and I would wave goodbye to him while he gets inside his car and I walk to the bus stop to go home. But I ate in silence while Engle talked about the latest going ons of the bookstore and compared stories with his owner friends. I think employees just aren’t privy to this knowledge. He never tells me any of these stories. Of course I see most of the stories happen, but not everything. I don’t have access to everything at the bookstore, even though I’ve worked here for four years. But what little knowledge that I didn’t know about the bookstore, I would sometimes hear about it here in the cafeteria when Engle shares stories with his friends. But they aren’t always here, and when they are here, I sometimes get the feeling that they aren’t fully open about stories because people can hear them. God knows what they say when people aren’t there to hear them.

I finish my lunch quickly and head back to the store. Kyle is already there attending to some customers. I waved at him but he didn’t look up while he was cashing someone through. The customers were an older couple buying what I would call “junkie fiction”. Fiction written not for its art but its plot easily crafted through conventionally attractive themes. Such as violence, mystery, sex. But otherwise serve no purpose. But junkie fiction keeps the bookstore afloat. As the couple took their books and left, I chatted with Kyle.

“How was the morning Roger?”
“Nothing much. How was your night?”
“Quiet. Stayed home.”
“Of course. Work day next day right? Save it for the weekend.”
“Yeah sure.”

I headed back to the back room while Kyle stayed in the front. The rest of the afternoon usually involves a bit of book sorting until a wave of customers start to come in. When that happens, Kyle and I take turns addressing customers and manning the cashier. Around this time, Engle strolls back into the store to talk with customers. Usually he wasn’t talking about books. He would be talking about anything but books. I think Kyle agrees with Engle’s idea of building relationships with customers. Sometimes he talks to customers about things too. Things that have nothing to do with books. Usually I sort books and watch and listen. Most of the time there is laughing, because Kyle is a humorous guy.

By 5 my day would be done. Kyle and Engle stay back for a few more hours before they close up shop. I never really knew why we don’t all just start at the same time and leave at the same time.

The mall is still quiet at 5. I walk through the foyers looking at other struggling businesses like ours. Comic book stores. Light fixtures. Out-dated cell phone accessories. Dollar stores. Sometimes there are good buys but usually there aren’t. I feel sorry for them sometimes and buy something that I know is of lower quality and higher price than I can buy elsewhere. But I want to support them as much as I want to support the bookstore.

The rain has stopped now, which is good news for my sweatshirt which has dried after I changed back into it for the ride home. I don’t usually see Eileen. She tends to work late. When I reach my door I remember that I didn’t have my keys so I pressed the doorbell, hoping my parents would be back by now. Mom opens the door. “Did you forget your keys again?”

“Yeah I was in a rush,” I replied.
“I noticed. The TV was still on when I got home,”
I wasn’t tired but I plopped myself on the couch like I was. My mom and I don’t talk much. We watched the news in silence and commented on outrageous events. Mom makes dinner when the news is over and I sit there flipping through channels for sitcoms to watch.
“Amy is coming this weekend,”
“Oh. What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing, she just wanted to spend time with the family. And Nathan wants to get to know the family.”

Nathan was my younger sister’s husband. She married two years ago and moved to the suburbs with him. Very occasionally they would come into town to visit. Because of that, our exposure to Nathan wasn’t high. I still don’t really know what kind of a person he is, but I haven’t seen what Amy loved about him. He seemed like a very average guy. But Amy wasn’t average. Amy was pretty and smart and popular among her friends. I am five years older than her but she easily knows more people than me, because of her charm. I could see everything that people would like about her.
Often it seems like their marriage is on the rocks, though it’s only been two years. Mom would report during dinner of their latest struggles. A lot of times the issues appear menial and easily worked through, but their fights are consistent, which leads us to worry. And sometimes we would laugh about it with the security that she is not here to listen.

Whenever they do come to visit, I suspect that there is an ulterior motive. Are they out of money or out of love? What are they replenishing here? My parents accept them positively, because they manage to keep their conflict hidden during our family dinners. Days before they come here, I get a building sense of dread in my heart for the dinner, from not knowing what to expect and wary of high emotional fluctuations that may occur. Amy, being an emotional being, would often start the mishaps. Amy and Nathan would talk about something but Amy would find some way to complain about Nathan. Then Nathan would get defensive and blame her back. Then it would escalate, and we would watch them snap at each other. Mom would fight to change the topic, but it does not always work because Amy would say “Don’t change the topic!”

What I know of Nathan is little. I know that he works at an engineering firm having something to do with solar panels. So Nathan is an environmentalist. He would do some outlandish thing to save energy and save the environment. Having been their home, it is apparent that he applies those principles there. Sometimes that is a subject of argument for Amy because it causes her inconveniences. Judging from that, I believe Nathan does his job well. He gives off the impression that he is both smart and detail-oriented. But other than that, I know very little about Nathan. We haven’t talked much.

Dinner was almost ready when Dad came home. He said hi to me and proceeded to the kitchen to chat with Mom. Dad works as a manager in a large engineering company. Maybe that’s why he likes Nathan. They would often chat about things that I don’t understand for long periods of time when he is here to visit. Maybe Nathan is closest with Dad in the family. I heard him go upstairs to change. Mom called me for dinner. It was beef fried rice.

I tasted the repeated irony. It was luckily better than this morning’s version. More flavour and sauce. I ate in silence as my mom and dad chatted about the dealings of the world. News and politics. Dad darted a glance at me but I was looking at my food.
“How’s the bookstore, son?”
“it’s alright. Quiet day today.” Pause.
“Have you found something else yet?”
“No I haven’t, Dad. I like it there.”
“You don’t do anything there. You sort books.”
“I run a bookstore. A business.” I felt the heat build in my chest.
“You can’t sort books for the rest of your life.”

I flipped rice over itself with my spoon. Swirls of rice at the center of the plate. Little bits of beef and peas climbed up the ridge of the hill and rolled gently inside the vortex. I smooth the mountainside with the back of my spoon and then flipped it over. I put some in my mouth. I could feel my mom’s glaring eyes touch me for about a second and then leave. Dad sighed loudly. The rest of the dinner was in silence.

My room has four large bookshelves, which hold an elaborate book collection. Sometimes after dinner I would read a book. Or I would watch TV or a movie. Or write in my notebook.

nanowrimo

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 05:50:00 +0000

november is national novel writing month. the purpose is to write a 50,000 word fiction novel from november 1-30. it is already november 9.

can i do it?
horace will have to wait this month.

the story of the illusionist, part four

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Wed, 13 Oct 2010 19:23:00 +0000

the past month has been a roller coaster of ups and downs. there's been a number of changes that have had some influence on my mind and thinking. this past month has made myself the question: what is perseverance? they say perseverance increases after going through tough times, and you would get stronger and stronger after each victory. and once you pad up your perseverance meter to max, you will then be able to deal with anything that comes your way.

but what if the drop from the up to the down is just greater than your total gauge? is it the total displacement of roller coaster, or the absolute value? so much for being able to deal with everything.

sigh. either way, it's a relief that i'm seeing horace again. i want to stop him from running away so fast, sit him down, and just talk to him directly. maybe part of me just wants to go to someone that is willing to listen, and ask them those questions, and have them tell me exactly what i want to hear! some naive part of me.

i pull open the door of the coffee shop, and my eyes squinted a bit from the lighting. it wasn't really the lighting: it was more like straining my eyes to look because being frustrated makes it harder to see. i strained my eyes to look for horace in his familiar black jacket, but to my surprise i could not find him. i rubbed my eyes a bit and gave another look. i still didn't see him.

then i felt a bit awkward, standing around and feeling stood up. as i looked around, i caught a glimpse of eye contact from the barista, so i looked in her direction. she looked at me, smiled, and gestured me over.

"hey you've been here a couple times before. are you looking for horace?"
"you know horace? i'm supposed to meet with him right now."
"i've worked here long enough to see you guys meet every month or so. horace came by the store before we even opened and asked me to leave you this letter." i was surprised.
"how did you know it was me? did he describe me to you?"
"it seemed like he already knew that i knew. somehow. he's not much of a talker, is he?"
"not at all. but thanks for the letter."

she gave me the letter and i ordered a small coffee. i'm a bit dissapointed that he didn't sat down and opened it up.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

dear victor,

i am not at the coffee shop today because i am visiting a number of locations to find good illusionist venues. the process of finding a good venus is painstaking, and the perfect illusion requires perfect background. i am travelling all over the city and out of the city in search of venues. so i gave my letter to the coffee girl and nothing will change from a normal day.

what is the perfect venue, you ask? a building is an empty shell until you fill it, but you must be able to envision the building filled. last time i told you that humans are addicted to the story. can the building provide the scene for an exciting story? that is what you look for. but there is more. what i'm telling you now can take advantage of petty human behaviour. humans are also addicted to mysticism. they resist what they have the ability to know but do not know, but are strangely drawn to what they do not know nor have the ability to know. it is the strange, the unproven and the unknowable. you try to grasp it, but it slips through your fingers as you reach. is it because we can never attain it that we want it so much? because when we finally find the way to grab what we cannot, we realize it isn't so special, and we discard it promptly.

religion is the drug of humanity because it is so ungraspable. it is like reaching for formless air, visible in the mind but physically impossible. and it is only because of the element of mysticism that attracts humans to it. think about the flux of general human belief in history: was judeo-christianity not the dominant religion? but what about now? the mystery has passed, we've heard it all from them. there is a new age of religious belief now, but not because those religions are more true than the others. but it is the mysticism that has been replaced. the human no longer knows again. give it another generation, and christianity will become mysterious and prosperous again.

that is how you make an illusion. you never want your audience to find out what you are doing. you want to engage your audience, but envelope them with mystery. you must shock their mental worldview, and not let it get back up. then they will desire to know more, want more and eat it all up. but you cannot deprive them completely. tease them. drop a morsel. one drop on their ravenous tongues and they will crave it all the more, licking their lips, savouring the taste that lasts only for a second. then the night will be over, and they can only get their fill at the next show. they won't know it, but their behaviour will make me the perfect illusionist, who creates the illusion for enjoyment but the real illusion is to control their behaviour to give me money.

you have a girl problem. doesn't everyone? maybe the true problem is that you are in an illusion. maybe you like this girl because you really know her. there is a mystery among her that she will not let you know, and that frustrates you, but you still want to know it. you don't know what you're doing. once you find out what you don't know, will you swiftly discard what you've finally acquired?

horace.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a shocking letter. a twisted sense of religion, and a sick idea of manipulating people like they were commodities. as weird as all the stuff he talks about i always find myself wondering whether he's got a point. the imagery was heavy. the moment of craving shifted to refuse. i didn't want it to be that way.

i pull out my cell phone to find my friend's number.

i call.

the story of the illusionist, part three

noreply@blogger.com (elessar) — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 01:45:00 +0000

there are people that you are friends with because you are sharing life with them, and then there are people that you are friends with because they allow you to share your life with them. do you see the difference?

the first one is out of convenience. we share the same school, workplace, yoga class. so we become friends through the things we have in common. but the second one supercedes these petty commonalities. you don't have to eat at the same restaurant.

every time i think about that party, i laugh when i think about what he said about looking around while i talked with people. it makes me wonder if there is some characteristic deep inside of us that has brought us together. a petty commonality? i don't think so.

horace is the second kind of person.

i always have plenty of time to wonder that because the month to the next meeting can sometimes drag on. many things can happen in a month, and in time i start to find that i don't want to discuss the deeper issues in my life with the first kind of person, but the second kind. and there are so many firsts that the seconds get lost in the crowd. i close my eyes and search through the multitudes of faces, but so many of them read first that i cannot find second. there is horace.

you see, lately i discovered a problem. there's this girl that i met that...

"a girl eh? so who's the lucky lady, victor?"

even interrupted in my thoughts expected in a world of firsts. spare me, subconscious.

anyway, i just met this girl, but we seemed to hit it off quite well. but i don't know whether i should go for it. horace is a studier of human behaviour, so i thought i'd ask him for his opinion, but i'm worried that by the end of the month, i'll run out of courage.

the coffee shop. i entered, and he's already there. he always beats me there, some other obsession of his.

"horace."

he reaches into his jacket pocket, a simple black jacket showing off no flair.

"can i ask you about something? it's about a girl."
"you don't have to. here." he hands me the letter. he picks up his coffee and heads for the exit.

i signal to him in silent protest but i could think of no words that would have kept him. a bit of resignation on my face, i open the letter.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

dear victor,

this is my second letter to you. i dedicate my time exploring the mysteries of the world, but never do i get the rewards for my discoveries. i will take advantage of the world by exploiting its needs and weaknesses. the world will fight back, but you must stand against him with no weaknesses.

does anyone have no weaknesses? i am not conceited enough to claim that i have no weaknesses. but i do know who knows how to hide their weaknesses. illusionists. illusionists have the ability to veil their weakness with their power. and i have that power.

part of that is understanding humans. people never bother to observe themselves. they miss out on a wealth of knowledge about our species. how we can exploit. but people are sensitive. they defend when they discover they are exploited. maybe it is the despondent path to defense that leads them not to observe.

what do humans desire? look around and it is obvious. what is a movie, what is a book, what is a relationship? what is student or a worker? very simply, humans desire a good story. we all look for an opportunity to write our own story with the happy ending. every moment is the happy ending. the illusionist won't tell you, "reality check, not every moment is going to be amazing". the illusionist will agree with you. why shouldn't every moment be the happy ending? why else would you watch a movie, read a book? it is your right to grasp that happy moment for yourself.

the human is addicted to the story. and when you understand what characteristics in a person makes for a good story, then you can massage your way to creating the perfect story for the people around you. not yourself, the people around you. you cannot create your own perfect story. but you can charge the people a premium for what you give them.

the perfect illusion.

horace.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i can't decide whether this idea was genius or diabolic. i also can't decide whether it was a fluke or his premonition that the letter did answer my question about the girl. what is the good story to her? a question more complicated than it seemed. i began to see my mind forming and reforming known stories, overlapping with more stories, creating new stories for myself and for other people. it is the magic of story that life moves forward. the magic of story that makes the illusionist.

but i sure don't want to charge her money for it all.