Promise under the stars
Dear Brian, how are you?
The conversation that spring
Do you remember? That spring, we were sitting in a Starbucks in Minsheng Community, and the sun shone through the glass window on your profile. You turned to me and said, “You should go to a doctoral program. People like you shouldn’t just hide in the industry and burn yourself busy. You have something to leave behind, a story to tell, and the responsibilities of the times to bear.”
I laughed at that time, and the expression on my face showed some disdain - the Ph.D. class is so far away, so theoretical, and so academic… At that time, I just wanted to finish writing my master’s thesis as soon as possible, quickly join the society, and fight my own battle. But you shook your head, your tone gentle but firm: “You will go further. You are the kind of person who will think clearly and go on.”
Over the years, your words are like a fire that has never been extinguished in my heart.
Finally understand your expectations
I don’t know what to tell you, Brian. Until now, I finally understand the seriousness and tenderness in your eyes at that time. It was a deep affection for your friends and a concern for the future world. You see farther than I do, and you have already foreseen that when the AI wave hits and the tension between technology and society grows, I, a storyteller, must stand up and use words to bridge the cracks of the times.
Today, I am finally a PhD candidate. This journey has not been easy, and it has gone through countless late-night readings, self-doubts, and reincarnations of belief. But you’re right Brian, the journey is worth it. Because I began to be able to organize my thoughts more completely, began to build a bridge between academia and practice, began to use theory to illuminate reality, and also used reality to enrich theory. More importantly, I began to learn to think about everything in the world from a different perspective.
Miss you and move forward
I often think of you when I’m walking, especially when I pass by places where we once met, or the huge National Taiwan University campus. Looking at the orange-red sky and birds flying over the water in the distance, I would think at that moment: “If Brian were still here, he would definitely tap me on the shoulder and say, ‘Look, I said you can do it.’”
In the years when you were away, I published several books, took part-time classes in college, and experienced the ups and downs of life. There are so many moments along the way, and I wish you were still there, discussing and laughing together, or even just sipping coffee together and savoring the moments of silence. You can always use a word to make me regain my rhythm; but now, I can only silently look at the brightest star in the night.
Live a meaningful life
You once said: “Our generation must live a meaningful life, not just for ourselves, but to make some contribution to this society.” Do you still remember? I wrote that sentence into my research plan and engraved it into my heart. I know you will understand that I have chosen a path that integrates humanities and technology, and connects academia and society; what I want to do is not just engage in academic research, but make these efforts a part of social dialogue.
I know that you must be busy stargazing, thinking, and exploring the mysteries of the universe and life in the sky. You always say: “Science cannot be without philosophy, and engineering cannot be without poetry.” And I also strive to make my doctoral journey not just a journey of argument and speculation, but a poem that responds to the times.
Thank you for your encouragement back then, and thank you for seeing yourself before you shine. You are one of my gentlest guides on this journey. Although you have left, your presence has never left. I will continue to walk, complete the path you expect, maybe go further, take you with me, and leave behind the value and light that we both believe in.
May you be well in heaven. When one day we meet again on the other side of the galaxy, I will tell you with a smile: “I did it, Brian, I really made it here.”
