My Idol (2)

This is no gesture of arrogance; however, up until this moment, i just didn't think i had an idol, or anything similar in nature.

But on the other hand, i also realized there should be someone out there that i admire (possibly not very consciously though) - after all, there is always someone for everyone.

Without too much difficulty, i thought of Rushdie and his incredible capability of telling the impossible tales, even just describing a sunset in the distance. Indeed, he could serve as my literary idol.

i've wanted to tell stories. But the cruel fact is, among the genres of fiction, drama, and poetry, i could only achieve prose. i thought, alright, if that's the best i can do, then let it be so. That is why i've been, diligently, "farming" my MSN space over the past few months. In a few days school is about to begin again, and i'd really like to carry on.

The difference is, i've been writing in Mandarin (Traditional Chinese). i've always thought telling stories in Mandarin actually represented elegant artwork; it seems to me that the language itself flows in an extremely solid way, character by character. You can of course argue that, when characters are printed onto sheets of paper, that is exactly how they look like. Yet, that is not what i mean.