I love the ancient poem " 昔我往矣，杨柳依依。今我来思，雨雪霏霏”, my sorrow and my longing.Where is my home?Except once a month's call to my parents, I don't have any connection with my old peers and relatives. I know them through my memories. Bigger disparity and gap surfacing more frequently, which make me to stand farther from them. Then, do I belong to this small island? Chores have been discussed times to times when management is highlighted as urgency, I am almost suffocated. I cannot live with the days without thoughts idling between history and the current. I keep silent and try to learn hard from them on how to be happy with what stay at the surface. I need to refresh myself with some more deep thoughts and interesting historical stories, which will inspire me from depth of my mind. I need some talks can further my thinking and broaden my sight views. However, I hardly find a good talker in this place.
Here is a rich island with full sunshine and brightness. People living here are friendly to me, they like details and are horribly afraid to lose whatever they concerned, especially related to their own benefits. They are shrewd and with endless drive for perfection, which makes them (from my standard) to be unreasonably nervous. Here is a small harbour city, people linking to the worldwide; they have all kinds of information and travelling overseas a lot. Yes, here is an information centre, which enables people to find opportunities. People here always ask one question"why not we take this opportunity?"When I celebrate my 10 years immigration, I ask myself where is my home?
Celebrate to you, a homeless wanderer!