Diary keeps track of an imperfect life

By Anson Xu

Want the future world to remember you? An American history professor used to teach his class an easy way for this to happen. That is, to keep your diary. Yes, diary, to write, to record, to express yourself and then donate them to a university library or a historical society. No more than 50 years later, future historians will quote the language in your diary from time to time when describing the past world.

I have made my "public diary" in the Star's opinion section since last April and for the rest of 2005. Distinguished from some other contributors, I mostly comment on what I myself experienced, thought and wanted a solution. It is quite interesting to go through what I have written in this year.

I never intended to make history by writing opinion pieces and I will be quite happy if the meaning of my life to this world is just like those random comments on this paper. Years gone and years to come, what we saw, thought and talked about finally all become history.

In my columns, I dreamed about an office where brown-nosers, backstabbers and saboteurs get shot down and sent straight to hell while decent professionals who build their careers on talent, diligence and devotion always end up on top; I explored the complicity of the job market for those who had received education in overseas universities and colleges.

I took pride in being a part of the 80s generation, because as we grow up, many antiquated ideas have been forsaken and we have witnessed such great changes; I complained about the unreasonable fees collected by the educational authorities for simply translating overseas degree certificates.

See, I struggled, I dreamed, I sighed, I rallied, I complained, I mocked - that's my life for the year.

By checking the past at the end of the year, history becomes all about philosophy. You feel like you got to figure out that you have been growing up but actually you have not. Life levels off and maybe so does history.

When we step on relics of the memory after a life of carnival, we find out we have been repeating or building the stories.
While I am still alive in this world, I tend to forgive imperfect things because they die before they grow up, such as fashion. What about you?

Ciao, 2005!

(The author is an in-house legal counsel in an international investment company in Shanghai)