In high school, especially in the first year, coursework was never our focus. We talked a lot. We talked in class, after class and any time in between. We talked about what we knew and what we didn't; whom we knew and whom we didn't. We were never tired of talking and laughing. We never thought this world should have any limit.
On my 17th birthday, we made our wishes together. We wrote the kind of future we wanted and deposited them into a bottle. The bottle has been stored in my drawer and we were hoping someday we could cash them.
No one believes their life will turn out just kind of okay. Many years later, we are still not so sure of ourselves. We don't like what we are doing that much.
Every year during this time when I am in Taiwan for a vacation, I feel especially deeply for the meaning of life and the value of existence. Everytime on the way back to Hsinchu after gathering with friends, I feel myself like a ghost. I can see everything but can't touch it. I can smell everything but can't catch it. I can like everything but can't keep it. Everything is so real and surreal at the same time. You live in a place where what you have seems so trivial; meanwhile you are just a passenger to the place you call home. You belong to nowhere.
Once upon a time we laughed so hard that we didn't perceive life had a length and didn't think anything could be impossible. Eleven years later, here again we redeposit our wishes. This time we are all very serious. No kidding.
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