Author Archives: raymond.mak

I enjoyed Voices III because it was a novel experience in a new environment surrounded by people I never met before. However, for Voices IV, the novelty quickly wore off. My peers say it was even better than the original, but for me, it got old quickly. I felt the juxtaposition of various tones (e.g. humor, etc) weakened their effects. Aesthetics aside, I liked learning more about my classmates. I felt this event contributed to the spirit of FRO and helping us assimilate into the school.

Art in museums is often weakened by the atmosphere of the building, the presence of other visitors, etc. Despite our guide’s explanations, I could not understand the art emotionally, even though I understood it cognitively. The turning point was the Tibetan shrine room. Among the many relics like rosaries and food offerings, there was also dimmed lighting. The entire atmosphere provided context for the Tibetan gallery as well defining the ethos of the religion. One could imagine meditating here alongside past ascetics turned transcendent sages, immortalized through their statues of Bodhisattvas and Buddhas. It was a nice break from class but as a college student, I have other priorities on my mind.

From the name of the workshop, I had a bad feeling about the event. The speaker went over, unsurprisingly money management and common pitfalls into which college students run. While I understand the workshop’s good intentions, I felt many of my peers understood financial planning already. This is an example of modern society’s unnecessary hand-holding. We often take 20 years to achieve autonomy, if any at all. This should’ve been taught much earlier by parents or otherwise.

If given a choice, most students would not care about these events at all. While I understand the school’s perspective, I’m frustrated that the school coerced me to attend.

I have volunteered in the past, but rarely for single events. I feel volunteering over time does more good, but this was a nice change of pace. Doing good feels better when it’s enjoyable too; there was the warmth of summer and a soupson of cool in the air. Seeing so many others walking for the same cause also cheered me up especially with the Wall St. protests nearby and all the other depressing events in the media.

Hi, I’m Raymond, and I’m a recovering nihilist.

I have spent the latter half of my life drifting, a microcosm for mankind’s own ripple in the sea of eternity. I try not to have friends, because friendship outlines enmity. I try not to have morals, because kindness and decency imply existence of their opposites. However, I try my best to find patterns amidst the chaos, I try to see the unity in our world and to experience the oneness where nobody can tell the difference between anything. I hope you all think of me as a friendly eccentric, at least.

Sole child of immigrant parents, I was the vanguard in this foreign land. I was the One. On my shoulders, I bore the weight of my descendants’ futures. My success would also exorcise the demons of the past: the rape of China by foreign powers, the family’s purge in the Cultural Revolution, the failed ambitions of my father; did I forget to mention the ghost in the kitchen sink? Sadly to say, I cracked under the pressure. Like the biblical Jacob and Esau, I resolved to throw off the yoke God had placed on me.

Oh right, the man upstairs. I grew up as a Christian, although my parents did not observe. Big Mak’s lack of faith no doubt rubbed off on little Mak. I lived by the tenets of the faith, but I dwelled in the mindset of an ascetic. I would gladly help my fellow man, but not live with him. Eventually, I hung organized society with the chains in which it placed me. The dual emancipations were a bittersweet moment. I tasted the free air but it was quickly overpowered by the sweat freedom entailed. No more cooked dinners waiting for me, no more pep talks from the reverend. I left the nest a little early, but I never forgot my roots. As an adult, I see the love in my parents’ in providing a home to thrive, and the love in God’s hardships in providing a crucible to temper my spirit. If I should die, I can say I am at peace with my parents, and I have never quarreled with my God.

But, before this….

My adolescence was like any other: I loved, I lost and whatever teenagers do except I had to work. To fill the void my parents had left, I replaced them with bad company. My bitterness at lost time and my apathy for the future gave birth to ennui: the soul-crushing, joy-eating boredom, the feeling there is no reasoned order, no purpose, the bane of modern man. I fled to Florida after school, but the beast hounded me. It was as tenacious as a dope-fiend’s desperation and as painful as unrequited love. I will let these two metaphors define this era.

One winter’s night, I was sandwiched between a pothead and a hobo. Bad joke? I thought so too. As I was about to turn off Vivaldi’s Winter and hide my phone, I experienced an epiphany. I thought it was the smoke, but I realized otherwise. It was surreal and unexplainable, but we were stranded on our own islands of suffering, but it didn’t have to be that way. Feeling better, I gave the hobo a dollar and the scarf he touched. After a trip back to NY, I had a heart-to-heart with my parents and decided to finish my education.

In Baruch, I plan to set my sails with the wind. After all, we’re here for a good time not a long time.

A government is like any other living thing. Its exists as long as its constituent parts perform their functions. Since our government claims to be a republic (i.e. democracy), it cannot openly coerce individuals to play their roles, but instead it must rely on their good will. The article seems to associate the decline of volunteer service with the decline of the nation itself. Ignoring the premise’s extremity, it seems accurate. Our nation was founded by volunteers: the minutemen at Lexington and Concord and others who dealt with Tory sentiments.

The article suggests several cost-effective social initiatives to improve national service. Volunteers help reach people who have fallen through our bureaucracy’s cracks, revitalize aging infrastructure, and, most importantly, improve our education system. Knowledge is power. The only way to alleviate present problems is to understand them. Human stupidity is magnified in large numbers via tunnel vision. Giving individual citizens the knowledge to make educated decisions is the only way to seek current flaws in our system.

No man is an island. Man cannot be defined by only himself; he is known to be human only through his interactions with others. While some may argue this is just “busy work,” volunteer experiences will help us better understand each other. While this article was published in 2007, it still holds relevance today by providing a practical and idealistic solution to the stagnancy plaguing our nation today.

My name is Raymond and my soul is restless. Sole child of immigrant parents, I have struggled to escape the banality of life. “Everyone will know my name,” I declared. As I grew up, conformity strangled me like a noose. My high school experience was like a bad high: surreal and terrifying. I warred against ennui and the mind-numbing emptiness that marched with it. I pushed away close friends and neglected my health. My grades suffered and I abandoned the swimming team. Like a hobo and his bag, I pathetically clung to my last possession, lone wolf status, like a badge of honor. But no man is an island. After graduating, I escaped my isolation but entered purgatory as I tried to discover myself. I worked some odd jobs as well as volunteering for nonprofits across the country. My parents were undoubtedly disappointed, as if I had betrayed the toil they invested to provide a better life for me. But the sun rises and the sun sets; time’s arrow stops for nobody. Thankfully, this is not the Jerry Springer show, and our love is still mutual. This prodigal son has returned to finish what he started.

cool story bro (TL;DR version)

I have been and am currently driven by one factor: to enrich myself through experience by learning and meeting new people.

Old ghosts continue to haunt me.

I fear the snake pit from which I climbed. My bad habits lurk below: especially procrastination. I will try to avoid squandering spare time, exceptionally harder now that I don’t work or volunteer.

That said, I tend to be skittish around new people.

I also have to be vigilant of my health. I have to stop being lazy. The plan is to bypass the “Freshman 15” and return to my old weight (Snickers sandwiches, anyone?).

Hopefully, my college experience will be the exact opposite of my high school experience. I feel like I matured since then (i.e. not as crazy). I will actually invest time and effort into schoolwork  (i.e. not herpderp-ing them on the subway).  I’ve also befriended some cool people since school started (long journeys need good company).

I think my freshman experience will provide insight and depth for the rest of my college career. It is a dress rehearsal for the rest of life: learning how to juggle work, school and personal agendas.

EDIT: In retrospect, I am actually infinitely more cheerful than this post implies.