You were spotted on a bustling highway.
Tiny, ugly, tailless and terrified.
Your little body trembling with fear, a strong urine stench was emitting from your body.

A week later. I woke up to you snuggling in my bed; pillow to be exact, securely, warmly.
Since then new house laws were enforced.
My bed was your bed. I was your mother. I was your favourite human who provides you unlimited food and endless playtime.

You then befriended Twelve and Monkey.
Three of you shared a bed, a blanket, a bowl of water.
But not their food.
You, however, welcomed them to enjoy your bowl of kibbles generously.
My first thought was: what a loving cat.
In hindsight, you probably thought: The human will refill my bowl with fresh kibbles. Two of you can have my leftovers.

You were named Goku for two reasons; too vigorous as a kitten and for a long time I believed you were immortal, just like the manga character.

4 months later we moved.
You grew into a rebellious teenager. Longed for a taste of freedom and the outside world.
Your free and wild spirit wouldn’t keep you home. You broke the mosquito net and habitually left house for wildlife adventure.
Once you didn’t return for one and a half day.
Your picture was up. I canvassed the neighbourhood and called for you.
Nothing.
I thought you were gone for good. You craze for freedom after all.
The second night you returned meowing for food and water and snuggles. I performed a dramatic scene.
I believed you understood my performance, because ever since, you never once spent another night out.
You always come home.

Your freedom didn’t come free. It came with three cat bells.
When the three cat bells jangling they played as a smoothing refrain.They became my lullaby that reassured that you were around, healthily, happily.
And it calmed my anxious heart.

You. My lizard catcher. My life saviour.
My whole life, the relationship between the lizards and me have been fiery.
Shrieking, bouncing, yelling when there’s one.
You appeared to protect me from them.
I felt safe under your surveillance.
Despite some odd days you instinctively showed appreciation by bringing one to bed, at two in the morning, your appreciation is very much appreciated.

But now my lizard catcher is gone.

The walls creaked the night you left.
Lizards paraded in the house, hissed loudly, as if they were celebrating victory their biggest enemy, my lizard catcher has gone forever.
I loathed them for that.

Over the past one month, home has become something else.
It feels empty without your surveillance.
Soundless without your bells jangling.
The bed and pillow feel naked.
The air smells bitter and heavy and icy.

My body and imagination have gone riot.
Every insect I see around the house I suspect that is you come back to pay a visit.
Then my lungs behaving strange. Like a puntured balloon that will never reach a full measure of oxygen.
My heart feels like its sinking one inch deeper into a dark abyss each time I think of you.

A few times the baby at next house cries and I mistaken that is you that came home meowing for me.
Only to be reminded you are gone.

And I feel abandoned.

The day I planted your ashes in the white Morning Glory.
A butterfly dropped by.
Watching me place your Morning Glory on your favourite, regular spot near the gate, carefully, peacefully.

Now whenever my hearts sinks one inch deeper.
I step out of the house and stare at you; your white Morning Glory.
And I see you: your obstinacy, your haughtiness, your delicacy.

Your White Morning Glory, it’s growing free and it’s growing wild.
Just like you.

I have a dream
大哥說：我有夢想
二哥說：我有果汁
媽開著車～～～
我不知往左、或往右
拜文昌廟，
送達蠶絲被
也為會考的妹妹加持瑪露連，
順便為棒球比賽帶來弟弟帶仙草

家有寶寶+數量

#4寶開心
#4寶生活
#5寶舉手
#6寶上新文
#為母者強

that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."2

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

Một trong những James Bond đã ra đi. Và có lẽ đây là một trong những câu chuyện tuyệt với nhất về ông.

As an seven year old in about 1983, in the days before First Class Lounges at airports, I was with my grandad in Nice Airport and saw Roger Moore sitting at the departure gate, reading a paper. I told my granddad I'd just seen James Bond and asked if we could go over so I could get his autograph. My grandad had no idea who James Bond or Roger Moore were, so we walked over and he popped me in front of Roger Moore, with the words "my grandson says you're famous. Can you sign this?"

As charming as you'd expect, Roger asks my name and duly signs the back of my plane ticket, a fulsome note full of best wishes. I'm ecstatic, but as we head back to our seats, I glance down at the signature. It's hard to decipher it but it definitely doesn't say 'James Bond'. My grandad looks at it, half figures out it says 'Roger Moore' - I have absolutely no idea who that is, and my hearts sinks. I tell my grandad he's signed it wrong, that he's put someone else's name - so my grandad heads back to Roger Moore, holding the ticket which he's only just signed.

I remember staying by our seats and my grandad saying "he says you've signed the wrong name. He says your name is James Bond." Roger Moore's face crinkled up with realisation and he beckoned me over. When I was by his knee, he leant over, looked from side to side, raised an eyebrow and in a hushed voice said to me, "I have to sign my name as 'Roger Moore' because otherwise...Blofeld might find out I was here." He asked me not to tell anyone that I'd just seen James Bond, and he thanked me for keeping his secret. I went back to our seats, my nerves absolutely jangling with delight. My grandad asked me if he'd signed 'James Bond.' No, I said. I'd got it wrong. I was working with James Bond now.

Many, many years later, I was working as a scriptwriter on a recording that involved UNICEF, and Roger Moore was doing a piece to camera as an ambassador. He was completely lovely and while the cameramen were setting up, I told him in passing the story of when I met him in Nice Airport. He was happy to hear it, and he had a chuckle and said "Well, I don't remember but I'm glad you got to meet James Bond." So that was lovely.

And then he did something so brilliant. After the filming, he walked past me in the corridor, heading out to his car - but as he got level, he paused, looked both ways, raised an eyebrow and in a hushed voice said, "Of course I remember our meeting in Nice. But I didn't say anything in there, because those cameramen - any one of them could be working for Blofeld."

I was as delighted at 30 as I had been at 7. What a man. What a tremendous man.