Empathy of Understanding


One night my son screams that there is a monster in the closet.  I said “There is no monster in the closet why are you afraid?” But actually my son wanted me to validate his emotional experience.

First way to communicate to across the gap of mindset is acknowledging that people who embraces conspiracy theory, supernatural, paranormal beliefs, they are doing so for emotional needs.

The first step is to acknowledging emotional reality for those people, then you will find a better way to communicate. Their believes fulfill their emotional needs.

  Eric Oliver

How selfish I could be

Scrap Thoughts

I might like to hack the biology behind your smile, and figure out the color of your eyes.  Darling, nothing can beat my adequate sleeping time. If you mess with my schedule, I have to say goodbye.

That’s how selfish I could be.

Your heart is just a group of mindless muscle. I don’t want your heart. I want to occupy your brain.  I want to own your every neuron. I want to be embedded in your cerebrum. Your hippocampus will hate me.

I want to distract you in the afternoon when you’re supposed to do something else. I want to make your eyes dilate. I want to raise your sugar level. I want to meddle with your schedule. I will mess with your dopamine pathway.

Dementia will never resolve me from your episodic memory. No course will ever rehab me.

That’s how selfish I could be.

I like your smile. it’s nice. I sound like a pretentious teenager who lacks a better vocabulary.

I like your smile. If I could hack the algorithm of your smile and replicate that. I will never need the real thing again. Now I am a mad scientist.

I like your smile. It’s precious. Have you ever thought about manufacturing your smile and monetizing it? do you want me to manage that? Now i’m a capitalist.

That’s how selfish I could be.

wikipedia of everyone I know.

Others / Scrap Thoughts

Human beings are so rich in details when you get to know them. I want to make an instruction guidebook for every fellow I have. They all need to be handled differently with cautions.

the evidence of knowing someone so well is when you know what hurts them most, but they trust you to never hurt them.



I had a dream about being on a train that doesn’t stop at any station. Time is running. In the dream, I would be late. I was so stressful. Time is running.

Another parallel train is on fire, but it moves so slowly: another stressful situation.

I have been conscious and cautious about time like I have never been before. This is how we change through life.  Time is running. But I just want to sit, listen and think.

Slow down. Take your time. – I have to repeat to myself.

joy of sudden disappearance

Scrap Thoughts / Writing

I have found my own kind of drug. I’m addicted to canceling plans.

Nothing can beat that secret joy and relief of not attending things abruptly. Nothing ever feels better than permission to temporary laziness and idleness. In an alternative life, I will remain starring at the bathroom ceiling, soaking my favorite books in the bathtub. It didn’t happen again since I was 12.

Jodie Foster’s favorite birthday was the year she escaped the town so she doesn’t have to attend her own birthday party. She spent time hiking along with her dog. I understand that so well. I tried to make accuse so I don’t have to participate in any big days. I like small quiet days plus meaningful conversation. My kind of self-therapy is being alone and let my corporal body heal itself and brain untidy its neurons.

I have a deep fear of attending the wedding. I’m a big fan of small days. I hate big days. I hate every kind of ceremony. The crowd makes me dizzy and exhausted. I cannot retrieve all the information. I cannot stand the noise and useless interaction. I don’t care about micro-interaction.

If we’re good friends, you can disappear from my life for two years and then you can still come back. This is what I want. I don’t like keeping updates of all minor details that will evaporate in two days later. I’m a bad friend who won’t give you time. Confession of the jerk who won’t answer your phone, who won’t give you time.

I ramble like a teenager.