you had to be in my position to get how amused it was to see my desperate neighbor and an expert door opener trying every conceivable gear to open the door with a broken lock, just read what I wrote, I did sound evil in that last sentence, but believe me, there was absolutely no part of me taking any pleasure of the irksome trouble. Ok it was pretty clear what was going on when I heard what sounded like hammer hammering and driller drilling. Once again, she was somehow unable to get inside her own house. But this time, it seemed more intractable, because I heard vaguely that they were already on the discussion whether to break in by force. I was then standing in the doorway to safeguard our house from the potential invasion of the man with all kinds of goody, versatile keys, kinked steel stick, barber-pin. In fact, our door could not be closed until they finished using the socket in our house.

Half an hour passed, the lock still did not let go, withstanding all the poking drilling and smashing. I could not help but laugh at my thought that the owner must have never wanted a thief this badly before. Apparently, a thief is much better trained to open others' door provided his brilliant record of sneaking inside one's house with most modest tools you can think. I felt really bad for the door opener who even got a noisy driller a luxury a thief would never think of using.  

Sarcastic as it was, I felt puzzled, why people who are poorly equipped and are baleful have a better chance to get their way than good better-equipped people? Is there an uncovered evil force manipulating all those dark things and overriding the power of fairness and just.

My second finding was not as discouraging as the first one. It was my way of explaining the occurrence of such an incidence in the first place. Why on earth did the lock malfunction? And why was it so difficult to unlock a broken lock? The reason is pretty simple but universal. As intended by the inventor of the lock, lock can be unleashed in only one way, normally that means turning the correct key for a correct angle.  In contrast, it can go wrong in almost countless ways. So the odds favor the unfavorable outcome. Actually, this lock thing shares some similarity with the protein folding problem, (forgive me for giving you technical talk here),that is, inappropriate folding is more likely to happen than the native folding.

Hopefully, this kind of thinking can pacify resultant upset mood a little bit when one does not get full marks or one finds out he or she is not the one, because statistically speaking, they were not unusual events.

One versus a myriad, do the math, don’t get mad.

Certainly, we have. In my case, I believe that I am going towards a direction leading to ultimate success and happiness, in spite of the temporary hardship endured on the road. However, do you know how much of the time you choose to believe rather than believe out of belief.

Ever since I went to the second best hair salon for my semiyearly appointment the other day, I have been harassed by the belief issue. I did my calculation right away, and it turned out to be a great shock to me, since most of the time, I tell myself to believe in things uncertain. 

What else can I do other than hope everything would go in the right direction, when I was completely at somebody else’s disposal, or to be more specific, when I entrusted my hair to the hairstyler and his whole bag of gadgets. I was no way a big patroness of the store, so when I was asked which I would like to have be my hairdresser, I took a shot to name the one I had last time, or should I say six months ago. I guessed right, but he had been moved to other branches. I could imagine how desperate I must have looked from the sympathetic look of the usher.

“ please have a seat, I will find you a good hairdresser.” She promised me as if she really meant.

“ She seems a nice girl, what good can come out it if she lies to me. Just relax and wish for the best.” I was calmed by my own belief system.

“hi, I am zhou x x, how can I help you?” one good-looking guy popped up in the mirror in front of which I was sitting.

“hairstyle, eye-catching but not too much, beard, delicately trimmed off, black adidas sweater and jeans, fit and in vogue, I bet a person like him who has a good taste for himself, would be more than capable to do my haircut.” You see, I do it again.

“actually, I have not formed a clear idea of the things I want to do to my hair, but I am quite sure about the fact that I would like to stick to my wavy hair, and I do expect some kind of minor change on the overall style, and a different color. That is all I have in mind so far, so now I am all yours.” Believe me, when I said it aloud, It was me who I wanted to get it through most.

Several self-hypnosis later, I was completely off my guard.

“your complexion is so breathtaking, belle.” A cute helper bantered.

“really, it used to be much whiter and spotless.” I felt like a princess surrounded by servants.

Admittedly, there was a rational part of me nagging that “you fool, he was just saying it for money, and he said it to everybody.” But I chose to believe the other side’s opinion.

I guess it is time to make my point that more often than you could believe, we choose to believe. Does it happen to you that you choose to believe that the retailer is offering you the lowest price he can go; does it sound familiar that when the boy you have your heart on calls to tell you that he has been too busy the whole week to pay a visit to your house, you try really hard to believe him. Does it juggle you some memory that you keep saying to your sick parents that everything is gonna be all right. Have you ever felt like an idiot for falling for even a coarsely contrived trap? Don’t feel bad about it any more, because it is only a problem with your belief, in that, you choose to believe people out there are all good-willed.

I can’t help but wonder have we chosen to believe all along? Or why do we stop believing things genuinely?