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目前顯示的是 1月, 2013的文章

apple juice

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It's a snow day. The day before i didn't catch the train, and I had to stay one more night, because it was also the last train of the day. I looked at the white windowsill and the snow gently fell down from the sky. They had a plastic thermocup for making tea in very bright color It was like a short story novel, and i was experiencing it. When it was the time, I stood up and told them that I was very grateful that they could let me stay one more day. He stood up too, and went to the room. The room is for laundry and food storage. He handed me a pack of tissue ("Do you have tissue with you? The weather is cold, so you might get a stuffy noise. Take this with you!") and some cookies (Sorry.... we ate the bread last night, but you should take these cookie so you can eat them on the train!). Then he looked up at the top shelf. "Do you like apple juice?" "but... it is a like 1L bottle..." "Doesn't matter, take whatever you want with y

Anthony Bourdain Layouts Taipei

Every time I watch a foreign TV show introducing Taiwan, even if it might be full of bias and orientalism stereotype, that makes me love more where I live, TAIWAN. Anthony Bourdain has picked up the most interesting part of our culture, the multi-layered post-colonical complexity influences, appeared inexplicitly in many aspect of our lives in Taiwan.

Grindlewald

September/26 Woke up from a deep sleep last night. After a kebab, I felt nausea and tired. In the morning, all the windows and doors were closed as expected, different from the last night. The person who talked to me has left. I saw an empty bed with the white blanket. I took a shower again, and expected the steam could give some help to clear the digested nose. This would be a tough day. I scheduled to climb all the way up to the summit. Starting from Grindlewald. Along with the trail to enter a small village called Bussalp. It is said that there's a small waterfall that can be a stop to take a rest. Then follow the trail through faulhorn. The highest point around the area, and reached to the famous Bachalpsee lake to see the reflection of the world famous Jungfrau mountain. To finish, follow the same mountain fridge and pass through First, I could possibly catch the last bus down at Grosse Scheidegg and go back to Grindlewald and take the return train back to Interlaken. I

In Between Cities

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I have been thinking about if i should get this blog involved with other of my projects. Then I realized that everything is connected because i am just a one piece of human being. I think of the same thing but speak about different points. I used information irrelevant to cut off the connection between my projects and me. Here we go.

Background story about the song "In Between Cities"

I often get confused about the meaning of being in between cities. Staying, living, or staying in a long period of time. This ambiguity standard of definition which can be longer or shorter, has divided many different kinds of people in the cities. Within different cities, towns, villages based on various cultures, the most common situation to me is that I don't feel that I am staying in the space, neither I could find the connection between me and the space (to transform the definition into "place"). Before solving this unclear self-definition, I take another train and leave the space.   Later, after I came back, it becomes inevitably to be asked, "Which city/place do you like the most?". Eventually I find a solid answer that can be widely accepted effortlessly, without any more explanations and being questioned. It's because the food there is good. It's because the cost of living there is not so expensive. It's because people there are friendly

Oyster Card story

I provided the little fractions of my memory to here. I write about the memory about the city. It should be nice to start over, about the first day of the trip. August/6th When I get off from the airplane, at airport Heathrow. With lack of sleep and the tiredness from the long hour flight, I just wanted to go as fast as possible to settle down. Maybe take a breathe or lay down or anything not fixed in one seat. Now i cannot remember what the airport looks like or what gates I passed through. The part of memory disappeared after I left the airport. I followed the sign and crowd and entered the underground station. It was about ten to six or something maybe. People who have Oystercard passed through the gates directly. Others, like the first time to London (me), standing in front of the automatic machine and queued up to buy tickets. I bought a single ride ticket which was like 4 pounds or more, because I couldn't find the section of purchasing Oystercard. When I was just a