2d:null 2e:["$","title",null,{"children":"SM3809_A5 | ychsu6 | Observable"}] 33:Tb4d,md` ### Writing 1

“translated” from “The Bench”

#### “Home sweet home”

The woman and the young psychologist were looking for a doghouse for their dog. It was their first time keeping a pet and they both agree that the doghouse should best meet the dog’s needs. It is a doghouse where breeze and fragrance gathered, circle of love and strength grow. The woman provided financial aids for everyone in the house, while the young psychologist brought back joy, excitement, and latest news from the outside world.

The woman should pay, as always; however, she only had one request, that is, the doghouse should be placed inside their house, like every other family members, drinking the same water, gathering around the table, covered by the same piece of wood. The psychologist however, wanted to place the doghouse outdoor and argued that what matters most for a dog having a house is to keep distance from the home. For that distance shows the love and care, that gathering as the true essence of close bonds only when the dog decided itself to turn around. He said, after all, we wanted a doghouse so that people can best understand the love we had. The woman mentioned the price and the psychologist said that he was grateful about everything she had done and everyone would be happier if they had no doghouse at all. He said that having no doghouse at all was closer to having it outdoor as the dog would only love the house more if he never got to understand the true essence of shelter and care. And so not having a doghouse for the dog becomes an option, the third doghouse.

They grew very tired discussing the three doghouses and for a week they rested from their argument. During the week, the psychologist had many things to do and many of these involve walking past the neighbourhood, knocking on their door, asking for a (or several) night(s) stay for him and his dog. He noticed that each of them had their third doghouse, a neat and clean little world which the owners are proud of. Some placed in the living room, the attic, the basement, or the backyard. Once they saw a doghouse placed in the corner of the garage, being locked and blocked from the dog with the dog fence. He knows that having the third doghouse is always a fantastic experience to build the bonding within the family. During the week, the woman also had many things to do and many of these involve sobbing out her sufferings to the dog, for what she had learnt, she care about the doghouse so much that the dog must felt the same.

Much later, when the summer had arrived, the plants in pots on the windowsill came alive, and the other dogs were finally back, it was this doghouse where shelter was provided and memories were carried. But perhaps, before the walls collapsed, the moss crept onto the doorsteps, and the barely used leash the mother and her son had left. `34:T751,md` ### Writing 2

Prose poem of my own

#### “Dining rituals”

The door opened. Mirrors covering all over the room, hundreds of corridors and thousands of lightbulb, leading us toward the endless darkness. The dining room shined as stage, the smell of roast chicken from the kitchen allured the mind. Some glasses clinked and some shattered. Elegance is being examined, opening up your mouth wide is a greedy manner.

Everyone glanced up from their food as I walked pass, with engulfing eyes, so I found a full length mirror in the room, tried to see through the hidden demon and killed it before anyone noticed. They were talking about love, so my friend and I wrapped our arm around our necks, tilted our head to made a toast, like everyone else. We laugh so hard in the middle of the dinner that the room suddenly froze and I had my mouth spread in a cheerful grin. The doorbell rang, so we pushed ourselves from the table, turned to our partner and curtsy low. For a moment I believe, we can even taste our toe.

They eat when I don’t. And they spit on my plate when I start eating myself. Whenever they approached, I wished to scream myself out in the locker. Whenever they left, I still wished to scream myself out in the locker. Some grades have been noted down on the celling. Nodding means approval, so does shaking the head. I finally found my eye in the wine glass, looking across the fruit and flower, keeping the secret for the world is blind. The sound of screaming, somewhere, some reverberated in the hallway, some quickly swallowed by the purple carpet.

We hope you stay kind and nice they said, for what they claimed it’s rare nowadays. I knew they love the warm and sincere, for what they found themselves being cared and heard, even though they couldn’t tell. I swallowed my tongue, they said, you have a lovely smile. `35:[] 31:{"id":"6aea3d1d23e215e8","slug":"sm3809_a5","title":"SM3809_A5","thumbnail":"df4d113f9b2c37f264781061862b3dc4b1a00a43efd4a54aadd80f358367c732","access_level":"public","create_time":"$D2021-02-25T04:52:11.578Z","update_time":"$D2021-02-25T10:25:58.063Z","view_time":null,"first_public_time":"$D2021-02-25T04:55:29.245Z","has_unpublished_edits":null,"fork":false,"stars":1,"starred":false,"owner":{"type":"team","id":"c3d91d7db2867b4d","login":"betahsu","name":"ychsu6","avatar_url":"https://avatars-next.observableusercontent.com/197b7792c36f626b9fe391a472486b8b6dc3cf3503a2bb52e365e7916c324a9e","tier":"starter_2024"},"version":24,"publish_version":24,"role":null,"authored":false,"authors":[{"type":"individual","id":"8205ffe96d046f8c","login":"betahsu","name":"ychsu6","avatar_url":"https://avatars-next.observableusercontent.com/197b7792c36f626b9fe391a472486b8b6dc3cf3503a2bb52e365e7916c324a9e","tier":null}],"members":[{"type":"individual","id":"8205ffe96d046f8c","login":"betahsu","name":"ychsu6","avatar_url":"https://avatars-next.observableusercontent.com/197b7792c36f626b9fe391a472486b8b6dc3cf3503a2bb52e365e7916c324a9e","tier":null,"role":"editor"}],"comments":[],"custom_thumbnail":false,"trashed":false,"lapsed":null,"subscribed":null,"forks":0,"collection":null,"type":"notebook","body":{"title":"SM3809_A5","cells":[{"id":0,"value":"md`# SM3809_A5\n## Code & Creative Writing\n### Read

\nThe Bench, by Mary Ruefle

\nThe idea of introducing the third and the forth bench is giving the argument more depth \nThe metaphor of arguing about the bench that doesn’t exist seems ridiculous in a way but resonates with similar argument I’ve had in our family. The argument about a bench to me is a disagreement about truth, about the fact that “You and I don’t share the same vision of the world”. Not only does the “point of view” we shared is different but the “material nature” of every world we had been talking about, every political stands. Each person believe their bench is the true bench; however, it turns out that in their individual idealised bench, they arrived at the same page, which is that, on the bench, “nothing had come to an end because nothing had begun”.\n`","pinned":false,"hidden":false,"mode":"ojs","author":"$undefined","summary":"$undefined","output":"$undefined","database":"$undefined"},{"id":5,"value":"$33","pinned":false,"hidden":false,"mode":"ojs","author":"$undefined","summary":"$undefined","output":"$undefined","database":"$undefined"},{"id":10,"value":"$34","pinned":false,"hidden":false,"mode":"ojs","author":"$undefined","summary":"$undefined","output":"$undefined","database":"$undefined"}],"files":"$W35","stdlib":"1","titling":"auto"}} 32:"$31:body"