Hi, all my old friends and new friends. I’m Jade, and I’m back.

I’m not sure if you still remember me, as it has been a very very long time since the last time I was active here.

It was a hard time for me about three years ago. I suffered depression, although I looked like a bright and happy person. Too many things happened during the blank. The good news is I’m fine now. I recovered two years ago, and started a new life as who I really am. I quitted my job, then moved to a beautiful city by the sea  and began to enjoy life and what I truly love to do. What’s amazing is when I open my heart to the universe, the universe is open to me as well. I’m not alone anymore.

Thank all the friends that kept sending letters or leaving messages to me when I wasn’t here. Thank you so much. I can’t forget the warmth and kindness and love I received from all of you. Thank you!!!

Here’s what I’d like to share with you. This month, I started to draw comic strips - ‘There Is Light’, hoping to spread a little spark of light and love to the world. I left my email address at the end of each page in case you can’t find me anywhere else.

The first three of them. Hope you like them. A lot of love to you all!!!

This is the story I wrote for Danny’s writing challengelast month. I was really flattered when I saw many of you liked it. So I’d like to post it in my blog.  

Thank you, Mishaikh, Danny, Tanya, Luci, Shoba and Risty for your votes.

The story was corrected by Professor Danny Clark. Enjoy it and hope you like it.

PS: I’m sorry to tell you that I have been under the weather lately. Hope you don’t mind if I reply later and forgive me if I am absent from your activities. I will be back. Love, Jade.

“How long haven’t I stepped out of the village?” I asked myself. “1102 days.” But today is the beginning of a new calendar. I’m on the long way and my bus is leaving. While I am staring at the rising sun, an overweight policeman recognizes me. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Huber. You are a model wife in our village. Thank you for teaching my wife your marvelous recipes.” I am smiling. It is a smile from the bottom of my heart, but only my husband could understand its true meaning.

Seven days ago, when I was washing piles of dishes after a wonderful dinner, my 360 pound husband was lying on the couch watching TV. What a typical picture of a happy couple! All of a sudden, I heard that something fell down on the floor. My radar told me the great moment I had been waiting for three years was about to come. Poor Huber was clasping one hand to his heart and was moaning like a tone deaf goat, “Help…”  I squinted at him out of the corner of my eye and picked up the remote control to turn up TV. “No one will hear you, my darling.”

I held back my excitement and continued to say: “Three years ago, I was kidnapped and sold to you like an animal. When I realized there was no chance to escape, I started planning how to kill you without being punished. One day I was enlightened by a fat little boy who was eating big Macs, fries and donates. Since then, I’ve been cooking delicious overdone food with much salt, fat and sugar. Making sure that the calories you took in were three times over the amount your body needed was my daily work. You know what? Birds of a feather flock together. Almost all your friends loved my lethal weapon so much that my murder plan was considered as a proof of true love. You were the most thankful fan of my sudden death recipe. Now, rest in peace after the heart attack.”

I watched as he gasped his last breath with a twisted face. After I had finished my vegetable salad, I decided  the last act of the show was to make believe I was a broken hearted widow. 

PS: Something about the sketch of a black cat and a Snow Globe on the cat’s head. Please don’t feel confused when you see it. They were two avatars Luci used to show us in the past few weeks. And when I was drawing it this morning, I didn’t know she had changed it already. So forgive me that I didn’t catch your latest news. 

Warning:The following article contains material that is too fake, viewer discretion is advised.

Having been living in the smog for more than 100 years, people in the planet finally found the truth that the smog was an invaluable possession human donated to the earth. There are many ways of taking advantage of the smog proved to be practical and necessary.

First, date in the smog is very helpful to accelerate the process of getting close. Recent research shows that when the figure of PM 2.5 exceeds 1000, which means it’s not possible to see each other clearly in 100cm, the possibility of hand-holding, cuddling and other body contacts is tripled.

Second, the smog is considered as a new shield against the alien monitor and attack. As the density of small particles in the air is so high, that laser weapons and techniques based on photography won’t work,  the security system of the earth is automatically reinforced.

Third, the smog makes a great contribution to the field of medicine. As people have been used to living in a low visibility situation, the symptom of nearsightedness has been wiped out from the textbook of medicine. “That’s very significant movement to help the citizens cultivate the consciousness of letting the sight go.” Dr Blind from Great Air Pollution University commented.

What’s your unforgettable experience in the smog or any kind of air pollution? Share your opinion on our website to support the Air Pollution Protection Law.

I tried to write an ironic article this time, since the air pollution has been one of the most serious problems in the city I live for years. Right now, look out of my window, I see a “Silent Hill”.

(Both pictures above were downloaded from free copyright restrictions websites.)

What does a chest hair say.

Hi, everyone! For many men and women, I’m the symbol of masculinity, and the mark of sexy. I’m short, curved, and will turn pale when I’m old. Don’t say “Eww”, I’m a chest hair, and I’m not the only child. “Hi~”,  greetings from my 2658 brothers and sisters dancing against the wind from a hair drier. We together constitute Dave’s hairy chest.

This is really a big family if all my 100,028 cousins on Dave’s head are included. They’re tied together like a palm tree, which I think is an interesting hairstyle. OH…100,027…100,26…100,024 left now…”COUSINS ON THE TOP, HOLD TIGHT AND STAY SAFE!” I always worry about them, and I’m afraid if this goes on, there will be a desert in the shape of Mediterranean on Dave’s head sooner or later.

I think you have already realized that Dave is in the bath room with a hair drier in his hand right now. However, that’s not the breeze after the bath, but a hurricane from the ocean of separation. He has lost his mind since the day Mary moved out.  He lives like a warm dead body, and smells like a used diaper . Now he’s wearing Mary’s lipstick, and closed his eyes while the hair drier is working,  which has successfully created the illusion that Mary is kissing him on the windy day they met each other. Poor Dave! If you don’t want to fall asleep with the help of sleeping pills only,  then why you said something like a racist in my opinion, “Mary, you should have your arms and legs waxed once a day!” 

This is my first time participating in a writing challenge. And I’m not sure whether it is funny if I get into a chest hair's shoes. Well, hope you like it and have a nice weekend.

http://www.myenglishclub.com/profiles/blogs/writing-challenge-funny-stories-p

I had a nightmare last night, which was so real that I could feel everything including the pain , the smell of gunpowder and rough-touch of the criminal’s arm.

I was on a long-distance bus running on the highway with over twenty passengers and an old driver. I thought it was a pleasant journey home until a big weird truck showed up in front of the bus. There were metal cages and wooden boxes under a piece of cloth. However, what were in the cages frightened me like the first time I watched a horror movie when I was six. They were naked air-dried human bodies with torturous postures. Some of their broken arms waving out of the cages in the wind, giving the illusion that they were still alive. A few seconds of my mind blank, I decided to call the police. At the meantime, a man with a mask stood by my side and pointed me with a gun. The other four partners of him hijacked the bus quickly and ordered everyone to put their hands up. Were they related with the truck? Were we dead meat?

The hijackers were staring at each of us for a few minutes in turn. It seemed that they intended to remember our appearance. Time passed by and the bus stopped at the gate of a five-floor hospital. “Get off in turn and go straight to the hall of the hospital.”  Soon came my turn. I felt panic that I couldn’t breath. I didn’t realize I was not able to keep calm when I was pointed by a real gun. I used to consider some of the victims in movies irrational and out of mind, but I just became one of them in the real world(nightmare). Suddenly one thing came to my mind that what if I could survive. I should try to remember every detail of the criminals as much as possible. The more I remembered, the sooner they would be captured. So I took the one near the door of the bus as the target. The hair cut, the uncovered eyes, the long messy beard, the clothes, the shoes and the smell, all of them could be the clue sent him to prison.

Got off the bus, I run to the hall of the hospital, where I could borrow a phone and finally call the police. What happened later turned out that I was too young and too naive. The criminals came in, locked the gate of the hospital and shoot one bullet, asking all the people, young and old, healthy and sick, to go upstairs to the roof. The crowd got panic, and rushed to the stairs, pushing and rolling, shouting and crying. You could imagine what the picture was like. Then there was sound of gunfire. One! Two! Three! Four! Four people were shoot down, and three of them were passengers of the bus. I could recognize them. What were they doing? Were they hunting in the hospital? I had never heard any news of that before. They were real psychos.

Someone called the police, and the hospital were surrounded when most of us were on the roof. I regretted so much that I didn’t watch the documentary yesterday about how to survive in a terrorist attack. It was strange that the atmosphere on the roof with doctors and patients was not that nervous. And the hijackers disappeared like a fart gone with the wind. People began to comfort and encourage each other while waiting to be rescued. But where were the hijackers? Given the polices surrounding outside, they had no chance to escape. They were hiding somewhere in the hospital or they disguised among us. The injured needed medical care, but no need to call the ambulance, because we were right in the hospital. If the police took all of us to the police station to identify the hijackers from the others, there were over two hundred people including those who could not leave the hospital at all. With my mind at sixes and sevens, I walked down the stairs to the hall when someone went upstairs passed by. I suddenly had a strong feeling that I saw him somewhere. The haircut, the beard, and the energy he sent out, I recognized him when we had eye contact. Unfortunately, he recognized me as well. He turned around and grabbed my arm, “Keep silent and don’t be stupid.” I felt a gun pointing at my back.

Not today, not today… I opened my eyes and found myself on my bed in the morning with soft sunshine around. I was still alive and healthy.

If dreams are something happening in a parallel world of five dimensions, then I am having the second chance to treasure everything I have, which I took for granted before.

Enjoy the ordinary life even it is tedious sometimes, and wish the world peace. 

Hello,everyone.When I was a student,it took years to learn English in the national education system only for exams.It cost a lot to keep spelling,gramma and pronunciation right.Now however, without all the pressure from the deadline of the exam or the judgement of my English level,do I still have the motivation to learn it as a real tool to communicate with the world? Yes.That's why I am here.

But what indeed makes English and any other language alive?I think it is not the language itself,but our mind and who we really are.So I don't care whether you are good at English or where you were born.What I care is if you are open-minded,kind,polite and respectful.

As I believe,predudice always obscures the truth,I hope to make friends with you and communicate in English about things we like,unique experience we had,interesting ideas we have based on patience and understanding.

Reply if you are interested.