JR in Hong Kong

Ever since I read about JR last year, I have been a fan of him.

I searched about his work, how he started from a graffiti artist to who he now is, how he post illegally and risks being caught, his projects and the fascinating meanings behind them.

Then I blogged about him last year in August. (Click here to read the post)

JR

This internationally renowned yet still anonymous French artist JR empowers ordinary people with his global art projects.

He made it to Forbes.com's list for '30 Under 30: Art & Design' (30 people under the age of 30 who have made a mark in the world of art & design).

JR at TED Prize 2011

When he won the TED Prize, he made a wish, 'I wish for you to stand up for what you care about by participating in a global art project, and together we'll turn the world inside out.'

Then he launched and invited everyone to join the Inside Out project--the world's largest participatory art project.

Inside Out, Women are Heroes, Face 2 Face, The Wrinkle of the City, Portrait of a Generation...I couldn't name a favorite because I love most of his projects.

They are all inspiring and fill my mind with thoughts and questions, because the faces appear in his work are real people and real lives.

Up to this moment, his work still gives me chills. 

TimeOut Hong Kong, one of my favourite and regular reads (even though I'm not an expat), has interviewed JR.

He shared his appreciation to differences and diversity, 'that's the best part. Depending on the place, people interpret my work differently: they see that as art, they see that as a political message and they see that as vandalism-- and it's the same thing they're seeing. But from the people's side, they always see it as an act of valuing themselves, showing that they exist, that they're here. That's the common language.'

I was thrilled to know that Galerie Perrotin is holding an exhibition by JR, named 'Pattern'.

I found myself waiting and counting down for the opening on 18th Sept.

His Inside Out project in HK features 16 large portraits of city dwellers pasted on the rooftop of the IFC footbridge in Central, looking up to the city's skyscrapers.

For those who are not in town or for whatever reason couldn't make it to the gallery, I have pictures to share with you. Just the outdoor part of the exhibition.

On one of the glasses of the gallery writes 'Look Down'

So I did.

And I saw this.

All the 16 faces

Honestly, his Inside Out in Hong Kong doesn't wow me as much as his other projects.

Perhaps because of its scale and location being less 'public'?

But still, I'm glad that he finally came to Hong Kong--something I wished for!

I find it incredibly difficult to explain myself whenever people ask me, 'why do you like this artist and his projects? What so special about these black and white portraits pasted all over the city?'

'What's the point of pasting huge posters of black and white portraits of ordinary people being pasted on the walls and buildings?'

Those are some of the moments when I know what I'm thinking yet can't find the right word to express them.

Most of the time, I have a feeling that my compliments and brief interpretations don't give him justice and are merely understatements to his fantastic work.

3 Simple Reasons Why I Like Him and His Works:

1) I like that it's simple yet sends powerful messages. It strikes me.

2) I admire him for being humble and stays low-key.

He stays anonymous so that people focus on the work and the faces of portraits instead of him. He stays anonymous by not disclosing his full name and always wearing sunglasses and hats. 

3) I love that his works have strong humanitarian focus. 

The way I see it is that for art to move and captivate people's heart, it has to closely linked and intertwined with humanity.

Otherwise, it is just pretentious.

I still remember the Tunisian boy in one of the videos, I think he points out the essence of JR's work way better than I could, 'it is not the same face but it is the same people'.

Yes, it's all about humanity--the people, their stories and their beliefs.

We might be separated physically, classified differently by gender, nationality, race, culture and beliefs, but we are all the same: People.

We all share some fundamental beliefs: Life, love, peace, respect, humility, hope, equality, kindness, gentleness, fairness, faith, forgiveness etc.

I love that he invites on stage anonymous heroes and embraces the multiple faces of humanity.

To be seen and to be heard, because we are the people of the city.

This is the main message of his projects, at least the way I interpret it.

Do you believe that art can change the world? Maybe it is difficult and takes a long long time.

But one things for sure: art changes people's lives.

Anyone interested in starting up a local project as a part of JR's Inside Out Project? :)

For more information about JR and his work, visit his website.

Love,

N

International Coffee Day

Have you ever felt like you are not ready to start the day without a cup of morning coffee, be it Espresso or Cappuccino?

Ever want to close your eyes and take a deep breathe when you walk into a cafe where the aroma of coffee is in the air?

Ever felt like a cup of hot coffee warms more than you hands, but also your heart?

If you hear yourself saying 'Yes, yes and yes!', you share an identity with millions of others around the global: Coffee lover.

Today is International Coffee Day.

A day for your beloved (and maybe favorite) beverage.

It boosts your productivity, inspires you with new ideas, helps you to relax, accompanies you for overtime work and leisure reading time...

A cup of coffee might as well be a staple in your life.

So basic that you've never given it a good thought.

Maybe today, you should start thinking about it.

Ever thought about the people who plant and produce the rich-flavoured coffee?

Do you know that coffee production is nicknamed the 'sweatshops in the field' because coffee producers are poorly paid as mega-sized multinational coffee chains swallow up the majority of profits?

Do you know less than 5 coffee companies have the power to control the operation of the whole coffee industry worldwide?

With all that sweat, coffee farmers produce one of the best tasting agricultural goods ever but still end up in deep poverty.

On the other side of the planet, going to cafes symbolizes a quality lifestyle which people sit back, relax and savor the finer things of life.

If this is not 'unfairness', I don't know what it is.

I'm not a coffee drinkers but I have to admit that I'm in love with this alluring beverage, amazingly not with its rich taste.

These little beans have enriched my life in a truly unique way.

For almost a year, I lived with it, read about it, write about it and think about it.

Ripe coffee beans

Coffee has given me wonderful memories and experiences.

I could easily make a list of reasons why my life is related to coffee:

1) When I was a student, I go to the cafe on campus for lunch almost every day. 

The cafe is filled with the aroma of coffee. You can smell that before you even walk into the place.
I smile almost every time as I walk in the cafe, partly because of that.

2) I have some of the most enjoyable conversations I've had in my life with my awesome professor.
In that same cafe, over coffee and sometimes lunch.

3) I'm amazed after my first time having Vietnamese coffee which has the richest of dark chocolate.

4) My baby. 

I read and researched on the bitter truth behind the popular drink.

I shed tears on some of the long quiet nights when I stayed up to work on it. 

Not because of stress, but because of what I read and found out. And because I didn't know what to do to help.

I wrote the longest thing I've ever written in my life, on coffee.

It made me proud. At the same time, it is humbling.

5) I met new people while working on my baby.

6) It gave me the opportunity to work in an NGO advocating for fair trade.

7) The fact that I studied about coffee but don't drink it, was the 'fun fact' about me when I was in Stanford. People remember this fact about me up till now.

8) Some of the best summer memories was me spending evenings at Stanford's CoHo listening to jazz.

The last night I spent at CoHo, the jazz performance was one of the best I've ever seen. 

Dozens of musicians took turns to play an improvised verse with an instrument or just vocal to the same song. 

Young talents like that amaze me, I wish I am a fraction that talented.

With modern technology, I shared the it with someone back at my home city.

9) In general, all those good times I spent in cozy cafes scattered all over the city, with books and/or people I love, for a nice chat or quiet reading time.
The smell of coffee is in the air, it surrounds me and made me feel warm and loved.

How do you like your coffee?

Dear coffee lovers,

Did coffee bring you any special memories?

Does the scent and the taste of it reminds you of some special moments, persons or places?

I don't know how you like your coffee, but I certainly don't like it to be produced inhumanly.

While you enjoy this delicious beverage, I dare you to take your appreciation to a whole new level:

1) Show your appreciation and gratitude by being concerned about the well-being of coffee farmers.

2) Buy fair trade coffee.

3) Turning fair trade part of your habit and lifestyle. Not just coffee. And not just FLO labelled but also those by other certification systems.

4) Spread words to change the world.

Sugar can sweeten the coffee, but it can't remove the bitterness in the lives of impoverished and marginalized coffee farmers.

Good news is: you can!

Next time when you have a choice, go for fair trade. :)

Love,

N

Writing A Letter

It's almost 4 in the morning but I'm still wide awake.
So much that I want to let out from my restless mind.
So much I wanna say.
So much that I'm became speechless.

To regain the balance and inner peace, I have to be honest with myself.
It takes courage to confronting one's self.
The process is not comfortable but I know it's for my own good.

Have to let out the feelings and thoughts.
Probably most women would say: talk to someone.
Yea, we women like to talk. A lot.
But at this time of the day? Nope.
I can't wake my friends up and make them listen to my bullshit.
And talking to myself at this time of the day is simply way too creepy.

To be honest, I am tired of listening to my own voice talking about the same shit over and over again.
My own voice makes me feel sick.

I ended up typing and writing it all out.
Everything: the truth, fears, and things that I don't want to admit.
It is relieving--writing soothes me.
In general, words soothe me.
Both writing them and reading them.
Words have a fascinating beauty and magic that captivates me.

When I'm done with my 'writing therapy session', I look at this letter and ask myself,
'should it be read?'
What a difficult question.

'I don't want to regret not being honest. 
This is how I feel and what I think, the truth is...'
How ironic that I finally summon up the courage to make self-confessions but not being brave enough to show it!
Sometimes I envy those who are so courageous and take risks, mostly because I hate myself for being such a coward.

Should I let things stay the way they are, or should I take a risk to tell the truth that might cost me something important?
I guess everything is about the right timing...
Dear readers, what would you do if you were me?

Life is filled with tough choices.
No one makes wise and good choices every single time.
Every one of us make so many mistakes.
No matter what the choice is and what the consequences are, face it with courage and be responsible for yourself.
This is the minimum respect that a person can give to himself/herself.

Love,
N

Hello, New Phone!

While almost everybody is using smartphones, I still cling on to the conventional ones.
Those with button keyboards, if you still remember them.
My love for button keyboards is probably as intense as my love for paper-tearing.
Same in a sense that both of them are weird obsessions that seems like I'm the only one who stubbornly have them.

The idea of using touchscreen is, at least the way I see it, bizarre.
Fingertips is one of the body parts which has the strongest sense of touch.
Why on earth would people choose to lose their sense of touch, in favour of a smooth screen that gives no sensation at all?
Up to this point, I still find it incomprehensible.
And when I bring this question to people around me, no one seem to have an idea and an interest to solve it.
'Are you from another time or planet?' Sometimes they say it, other times it is written all over their faces.

So, me having a brand new smartphone, one of the latest models, has enough shock factor for people who know me.

A short conversation between me and my 14 year-old brother:
Me: Felix, teach me how to use the S3. (eagerly, like a child with a new toy)
Him: Yea, right. You must be kidding. You don't use those things.
Me: Oh, really? (raised an eyebrow as I took the phone out and flashed it in front of him)
Him: What?! I can't imagine you using that.
Me: Well, believe it or not, BRO. (evil grin)
Him: Ok, I'm not teaching you anything.
Me: Pleeeeeeease. (completely change of attitude, miserable)

The phone itself shocks me as much as I shocked my brother.
Readers, don't laugh at me: I lost count of the number of times I gasped or screamed when I experiment with the new gadget.
Yes, it's real: I literally lost count. And I literally gasped and screamed.
With both horror and/or amazement.
All for a damn phone.

It happened like this:
When I set up the apps for social networking or communications, everybody's' pictures and statuses popped up with a sec, I gasped.
I feel connected, in a bad way. Or I should put it as 'exposed'.
I prefer keeping a distance from most of the people I know.
Now they are all there! Bombarding me with their where-abouts and what-abouts.
Ok, way too accessible, no thanks.

I let out another gasp when I got some texts.
To distinguish the sounds of my phone from my family members' phones, I randomly picked something.
So when I got a msg, my phone let out a loud bird's chirp and vibrated.
It scared me.

For people who know me in person, you'll know that my another weird obsession is that I don't like phones that produce noise.
I don't really like it when mobile phones ring.
Odd enough, I'm okay with my home phone ringing.
I guess one of the reasons is that I never find a suitable ringtone.

Apparently my family thinks it's funny and cute that I gasp and scream like an idiot, so entertaining that they left me to experiment with the gadget that is smarter than me.
Having a phone that is smarter than a human being is a pretty weird thing.
But not as scary as those artificial intelligence robots.
(It is so wrong to create sth that look so similiar to human beings. Those things creep me out.)
I'd compare me having a 'smart' phone to a man being emasculated, even though I'm not a man and would certainly not know how it feels to be emasculated.
Ouch!

Oh, talking about men, I have no idea why electronic gadgets only seem to operate smoothly in the hands of a man.
Maybe they operates well in everyone's hands. Except mine.
I swear I did the same thing, be it setting up wifi or the new phone, but nothing happened.
But once a man touches it, magic happens.
While men exclaimed, 'voila! There it is', I grumbled, 'what?!'

Another thing that made me surrender is texting.
I shouldn't have laughed at iPhone users who make typos when they text.
Or in some cases, extremely funny mistakes after the autocorrect.
I didn't know I have clumsy fingers myself!
Can't help but 'urgh!' when I typed 5 letters and have 3 of them wrong.
As if this isn't bad enough, I continued to make a series of txts with typos.
Clumsy fingers on touchscreen keyboard VS obsession with perfect spelling.
Who won? Let's say I compromised.

Okay, that's about my little struggle with modern day technology.
Don't get me wrong.
I'm truly excited about new things that will make my life slightly easier.
Just that, like every beginning or change, it takes a bit effort and time to adapt and adjust.
This is one of the many days that I feel like I was born in the wrong era.

Love,
N

What do I Want?

Most of the time, my posts talk about the exciting and nicer parts of life.
But to be fair, today I'm gonna write down the bad part of it too.

If life is a journey and offers several crossroads that change one's path, I'm certainly standing at one of them.
Career-wise and relationship-wise.

I woke up today, feeling surprisingly calm.
Is that a good thing or a bad one? I don't know.
And I don't know what to think either. Everything feels surreal.
It's a bit like living someone else's life, the life of a single 22 year-old with no purpose in life.
I certainly don't know her. Oh wait, I think that's me.
Do I even know myself now?

I started the day by asking myself, 'what should I do today?'
Now no one would get mad at me for waking up some time near noon, now no one urges me to do what I'm 'supposed to' and no one is complaining about not receiving my calls.
I have to admit, having this complete control of my life actually feels nice.
It's all about me now.
But I know it's not gonna be nice forever--loneliness would prevail, it's just a matter of time.
And, do I wanna live like this, with all the 'freedom and space'? What's the use of it anyway?
Will I be happy if I don't have a partner to share the bliss with?
Am I making a mistake? Will I lose him forever?
Or if I choose the other option, am I gonna lose myself?

Sometimes I think there is a red button in our brains--once you hit that button, you can't stop thinking, having questions and generating even more questions.
Pretty much like what the guy talking about women's brains says: open 1 box, it's connected with so many other boxes. Everything is connected. And the linkage is emotions, of course.
As a result of being a woman, naturally I have that button.
Mine is labelled 'All about Relationships'
Sometimes I wish my button is called 'Intellectual & Academic', then I'll have a larger chance of being remarkably smart.

In the past, every time I have problems in a relationship, I hit that button and get drowned in an instant.
Knowing that the consequences is disastrous, I avoided it.
'How?' I asked myself, and I suppose you will want to ask the same question too.
'Let's try something different this time,' I thought to myself.

To name some of the persons that I hate most on this planet earth: Moi, me, myself and I.
So what I did was: Do exactly the opposite of what I feel like doing.
Feeling like 'I don't care what I'm gonna wear, I'll just throw on anything'? Dress up and be seen.
Feeling like 'I just wanna crawl into bed and stay home'? Go out and do something else.
Feeling like 'I'm helpless and terrified'? Stay calm and smile.

I'd say it worked.
To my surprise, I was more or less okay--normal and functioning.
Who would have thought I'm in a mess when they see me in person today?

What I learnt today: Don't always listen to yourself.
What I also learnt today was: Listen to your heart, find out what you want.
Kinda contradicting and confusing, pretty much like my situation now.

I came home with a familiar scent. A scent that calms me and make me feel safe.
The scent works the same way as the escapes to my withdrawing room or being told 'it's gonna be alright'.
For obvious reason, they are all associated to a common thing that has a healing power over me.
'Okay, associations. At least my hippocampus and amygdala are functioning very well,' I gave myself a faint smile to the thought.
You know, hard times is one of the best times for a good sense of humor.
Judging from what happened, life knows this truth all too well.

I still hear the voice in my ear.
I could still feel it speaking to me, 'find out what you want.'
Well, I dare not tell anyone what I want as most likely thing to happen is losing it.
The truth is, I dare not wanting what I want.
I don't even want to count how many times I put in everything but end up in nothing.
If there is someone wise out there, tell me, how many times can one have one's heart and dreams broken?
I'm terrified of wanting something, be it a dream, a relationship or a person.

It was supposed to be my job to spread positivity through this blog, but moments like this, I just want someone to take over and tell me, 'stay strong and be positive.'

Dear readers (and self),
Love life, even before you figure out or get what you really want.
You deserve to be happy even if you are in a mess.
:)

Love,
N

Burn for Burgundy

As the gentle wind brush against my face and breeze through my hair, I can't help but close my eyes and think to myself, 'autumn, my fav season, finally?'
I could make a list of reasons why I love autumn.
Among the items on the list, this year's fashion trend--burgundy.

So this year's Fall/Winter collections are good news for me (but bad news for my purse).
With burgundy being a big hit in this F/W, my lack of 'fashion libido' can come to an end.
This summer's pastel colours are such a big turn off for me.
While some of my girls are all about looking cute and sweet in pastel colors, I'm quite the opposite for simple reasons:
1) Cute is not the adjective for me.
2) Pastel colours just don't look good on me.

Good news: Burgundy is here to rescue.

Burgundy, a shade of dark red that gets its name from the wine Burgundy. Also called wine red and ox-blood. And looks similar to other shades of dark red like crimson and maroon.

Along with it are this year's big color trends of dark, rich and jewel tones like jade, navy and purple.

In general, I like red. But not all shades of it.
While red is the color of passion, sexiness and love, it could be too in-your-face aggressive and sometimes look cheap even, depending on the shade of red of course.

Burgundy is a more subtle variation of red.
It's subdued, sophisticated, classic, more elegant, but still oozing with charm and sexiness.
F/W collections are great: shades of burgundy, rich fabrics, 1960s and early 1970s-inspired designs. Very ladylike.
I really like the tight tailoring, attention to details and clean silhouettes.
Wish list:
1) Burgundy handbag. Classic, clean and simple.
Adds a pop of color to winter outfits.
Haven't found one that I really like yet. Perhaps next post should be on my burgundy handbag hunt?

2) Burgundy blazer, coat or biker jacket.
I don't like pantsuit but the idea of having a burgundy suit is alluring.
And having a winter coat is equally nice, even though I don't really need it for the coming 2 months at least.

Source

And guys who wear burgundy, be it a burgundy blazer or just small accessories? Even more alluring.
It takes a real man to wearing burgundy to perfection because ordinary guys don't have guts to wear red and most of them can't choose the right shade of red.


Oh, I burn for burgundy!

Love,
N

Irreplaceable

Today, Sept 10th, is the World Suicide Prevention Day.

Having experienced the loss of someone dear rather recently, I am here to share with you the wound that the suicide leaves me with.
Although I don't cry myself awake anymore, the sense of loss and sorrow never seem to cease.
When memories flash back, I having problems sleeping.
Other times, I see him in my dreams.

It is always the same dream.
Every time I have this dream, I could only see a bit of his face or maximum his profile--he never turn back to look at me.
He looks so peaceful and calm, sitting at the armchair at his place, watching the ocean outside or staring into the air.
I am sitting on the armrest, talking to him and hoping that he'll stop looking at whatever he is looking at.
I am always hoping that he would turn his head and look at me, face-to-face.
I have so many questions to ask and so many things that I want to say to him.
The truth is, all I wish is to look at his face for  one more time. Just that.

I don't wanna disturb his peaceful moment of watching the tides and the ocean.
So I usually sit on the armrest or the ground, leaning against the armchair he sits, very quietly.
Most of the time, both of us are quiet.
The only sound is the waves, slowing yet powerfully splashing to the shore.
Sometimes he speaks, talking about the funny things that happened during our childhood.
Sometimes he asks about my relationships and plans for life, then he stays quiet and just listen.

He always look calm and wears a smile on his face.
He seems normal--he recognizes me, remembers things and talk to me just the way he used to.
The only thing he doesn't seem to realize, is the harm that he did to himself and the sorrow he left me with.

Usually in the later part of the dream, I come to the knowledge that I am just having a dream and the fact that I lost him forever.
The reality is too unbearable and I find it too difficult to tell him the truth.
Unwilling to say goodbye, I remain quiet to enjoy a moment of peace with him.
Just a little bit more time, that's what I want.

This is when a peaceful dream turns into a painful one.
He drops the question, 'why didn't you come to see me for one last time?'
Talking about his funeral, which was held when I was not home.
Then it comes the time when he finally starts to slowly turn his head to face me, the moment that I have been waiting for.

And the same thing happens every time...
I wake up before I see his face.

The dream usually leaves me with pain, guilt and regret.
I find myself staring at dream interpretation books by Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung that sit on the bookshelf, thinking, 'should I find out what my dream means?'
No, I have not reached for the books.
I don't even know why I got those books a few years ago--I don't even trust psychoanalysis.
And even without the help of the books, it is obvious enough that I dream of him because I miss him and I wish I was there at his funeral to say goodbye.

Dear readers,
Like many other beautiful and precious things, life is fragile.
Please guard it with a strong will power, positivity and love.
Treasure and embrace life, because...

You are irreplaceable :)

Thanks for reading.

Love,
N

The Beat that my Heart Skipped

The day after I returned, I went for a drink with a friend in one of my favourite places in this city.
The bar was on the 30th floor, panoramically overlooking the fantastic harbour view.
The moment I saw this familiar yet always captivating view, my heart skipped a beat.


This view never fail to amaze me. (given that it is not foggy, when I can actually see something)
I fall in love with it every time, even before leaving for my trips.

Before I realize, I already heard myself speaking my mind out loud to my friend,
'this is the city that I love, the city that I call home.'

Not only was I filled with pride, that was the moment when I realize that I love this place more than I thought.
Yes, I'm talking about the same place that I bitch a lot about-- this over-populated, stinky, always too hot and moist place where people live inhuman lives and people caring too much about money and face.

Recently, this city made my heart skipped a beat or two, not with its gorgeous view this time.

Occasion 1) The protest against national civic education
If you judge my love for this place by the political participation I engage in, you will see a cognitive-behavioural dissonance.
Though I'm a political science major, I am not a registered voter and usually politically apathetic.
Pretty odd, I know.
In terms of local politics, I learn and study what happens but I always remind myself to stay impartial and never take sides, so that I don't selectively learn the materials.
At other times, I just did not care because most of the arguments are not life and death issues.
And isn't moderation the key of life?

Seeing teenagers, around the age of my brother's, actively involving and protesting, I am both proud and ashamed.
Proud to see people fighting for their beliefs, and ashamed of my 'moderation'.
I begin to doubt my own beliefs, because of the current, on-going protest.

The scale, the orderliness, the peacefulness and the unity are stunning.
Politics is all about power and politicians do nasty things for the search of power, I know.
But there should be limits.
For me, one of these limits is: don't affect the kids. Don't limit their potentials as openminded and level-headed individuals.

This is the first time that when I was asked about my views on a government policy, I cannot find the right word to express my opinion, except saying, 'they either have no brains or not even a speck of conscience, those fucking bastards need to keep their dirty hands off our kids!'
I could not recall the last time I say someone is a 'fucking bastard' and I wonder if I have even said that before.
This is the first time I sign my name for the petition against the policy.
This is the first time that when I heard the government softens and cancel the deadline of executing the policy, I said to my friend, 'high 5!'

Occasion 2) A candidate's response in one of the debates
To be honest, debates between local candidates are mostly low-quality screaming, yelling and verbal attacks, in which the people involved seem to be talking about totally different things and never actually listen or make relevant responses.
It's not a debate and surely not a conversation. I don't know what to name it.
And most of the time, you know what was said is not even close to the truth.

I watched a short clip of two female candidates.
One of them asked, 'we all make sacrifices to become politicians. Some of us sacrifice our high-paid professional jobs, some sacrifice their health. What makes you think you sacrifice more and make a better candidate?'
(The other candidate chose not to be in a relationship/ get married unless we have universal suffrage)
The other one made a strong reply passionately, 'I have never considered my involvement in politics a sacrifice. To have the support of the citizens that I serve is the biggest honor in my life. I have pledged that I won't get married until we have universal suffrage. What's wrong with that?!'

I teared up watching that as I was moved by her passion.
In all my 22 years of life, none of the local politicians has stirred up my emotions.
It's so easy to make fabricated speeches which usually consist of just pretty words that mean nothing.
All it takes are practices. (And maybe a few social psychologists, behavioral scientists and linguists behind the scene)
But you rarely see a politician making huge promises that involve his/her immediate interest.
It's not money that she is giving up.
It's her personal life, her love life and potential marriage!

I could never do that.
I could never make such a promise.
I couldn't even say those words.

Those were the moments when my heart skipped a beat or two.
There are the moments when I know that my heart skips a beat or two because this is the city that I love, because this is the place where my heart belongs.
Yup, with all its awesomeness, ugliness and craziness, I love this place.

Love,
N