I used to cling to my sister every time we walked past a window at night. Somehow I always feared that there would be a ghost, framed by the window, looking at me. Frustrated, my sister once told me tersely, that
If you want to see a ghost then you”ll see it!
She didn’t think much about this, but I did. And this made me even more scared.
if I want to see a ghost and I can see it, then a ghost can just appear whenever I think of it. A ghost by the window, if seen by me only and not by my sister, is then not really by the window. It is actually in my head. I can run away from a ghost by the window by distancing myself from the window, but I cannot run away from a ghost in my head. How can I possibly distance myself from my own head?
I am tri-literate. I can speak and write Vietnamese, English and Mandarin. I am fluent in the former two and efficient in the last.
It’s a hard thing, balancing between three languages. Three cultures. At any point in time one of them has to be temporarily pushed to the back of my mind to make space for the other two. It’s like raising triplets. Can you talk about friend problem with this one, check the other’s homework and tug another one into bed at the same time?
I’d go mad.
I’m struggling, and sometimes I just got a bit panicky when I couldn’t translate a thought into the other language as smoothly as needed. Sometimes it just struck me that I haven’t used one of them in a month. My language skills become rusty if I dont practise often enough. I can feel the rust. I can feel ot slipping away.
Balance is the hardest thing there is to maintain.
In an extraordinary world, the ordinary becomes extraordinary.
And the extraordinary becomes ordinary.
You are not rare where you belong.
So if you want to be rare and unique, go where you don’t belong.
Is isolation uniqueness’ best friend?
That is the frailty of genius, John. It needs an audience.
– Sherlock –