Fearless I may usually be; therefore I cannot comprehend my fear of his gaze. It follows me around and gives me no hiding place, no solace, and no peace of mind. Maybe, unconsciously, I have been carrying his soul with me, deeply attached to the unseen part that nobody has ever been able to reach. He is there, within me.
I think I know who I am. Over the years, I have tried to become who I want to be. Then I find myself pausing and pondering: do I really know who I am and what I want to be? Does anyone really know?
The search for my identity haunts me, eventually becoming my only burning desire, from which I have no escape. I can no longer control this overwhelming desire to search deep within for the true, life-sized being, not the images I see in a mirror nor what I present to the world.
The time has come, when I must take a good, long look back, beyond the oceans and mountains, beyond countless borders, beyond the crowds of people I have encountered, beyond my shell, and search for the meaning of my existence. Through the looking glass, tinted with the rich colours of passing years, I reflect over significant events, essential to shaping an ordinary life in not such an ordinary way.
Many years after I have made a home in a foreign land known as the United Kingdom, I spin the time machine backwards. When I look up to the sky during those sleepless nights, I see the same moon that I had seen in that remote, then-isolated country, the Middle Kingdom. Reciting silently the poem “The Moonlight,” by Li Bai from Tang Dynasty, one of our greatest poets, I see a little girl, who is lost in that dear ancient land and who then finds herself in her dreams of the New.
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