Post-SR Journaling: Roverblood Continues

Post SR

From South Roaming #1 to SR #26, I finally ended the SR series last month prior to homecoming. Again, this blog is intended only for myself and perhaps few friends, if they would visit this blogsite every once in a while. I harbor this intention because I think it’s important to mold a peaceful mind in self-expressing while being free of too much self-consciousness. Then, I can think deeper, a possible herald of personal actions.

South Roaming, driven by a burning and distraught heart, now has ended. However, I think, on a larger scale under my Roverblood framework, it continues. Or it is merely an overture to some unknown follow-up. Matter of fact, when I had settled in Dali for a few months, I kept using SR for my blogging as I knew that the journey hadn’t ended and it meant not only constant moving on the road but sojourns at ease. I began realizing that “roaming in our mind” was not a rhetoric device but could be some reality we may carve out for ourselves. Once we harbor a roaming mind while settled somewhere, we will always be on the road and never be shackled by anything. That might be the loftiest freedom I can conjure up now. I believe in it, too.

For decades, I think like many other youths, I’ve been hankering for the other end of the horizon, but such hankering had been so long pent-up and kept from my knowing it. Now as everything is in the pipeline or blurring making, I need a more clear-cut structure, a pre-conceived pathway to spring from my scantily charted territory to the unknown. A pile of books, I got them.

A Teacher

Willingly tasked with teaching a junior high school student. The boy just passed the final. So far so good. Of course, I would never bother the boy with any mnemonic strategies, but first off dock with the way his teacher taught him at school and incorporate “information processing” and “cycled reviews” into my teaching. The boy is almost as reserved as I was more than a decade ago. I told myself that I would not be his teacher, but that he would be just another me at the other end of time in learning a language for the exam. As for natural language learning, including basic listening and speaking skills, I would just skip most of them, because anyone who has dipped ever his feet in their middle school times knows how that wheel turns. However, I do hope to bring a relaxing and fulfilling ambiance that at least incurs no more pains. I could gather that the boy’s teacher is meticulous and responsible, but unsurprisingly follows the old rut for instilling, memorizing and regurgitating. I knew them too well and they will continue for most for generations to come.

Another boy showed up only for an afternoon and quit. His grade in the subject indicates his drawing-board state. Worse, he would refuse to take out his English book for morning reading aloud. I first told him to finish some questions and then switch them to the writing of the alphabetical table. The boy just stayed silent, standing-up, and rotated his body from my inquisitive look. He was so intense. I knew I had to give up and I felt it not that jarring. I had experienced all of this growing up.

It’s not about going to school and learning anything; it’s about growth, about loneliness, about a sheer lack of socializing, about parenting and about resource support. I know them all.

The world is cruel and I just know it too well.

A quite amusing phrase that so-called social veterans like to say is “you will have your lesson once into society”. Sorry, have what fucking lesson? Even if I am so calm now, I would swear as above.

Campus life is never a care-free and fancy-free time; neither is childhood.

Still, I believe we shall be all free, of any lectures, teachings and warnings and in our thinking and moving.

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