Post Stn.
邮局
"Hey, I am sending you love from here..."
I came to realize why I could always be on the road without feeling lonely was because I had so much faith in you.
I knew you would always be there;
I knew you would.
So I am sending post cards from everywhere I have been.
I can be your eyes.
I am telling you,
I also miss you. I do.
明月千里寄相思

Send Me a Letter if You Wish
Post Cards Nr.05 - Sent from Madeira

Dearest,
This postcard truly crossed oceans to reach you—from Madeira, a Portuguese island in the Atlantic. Yes, I've moved again.
With all my worldly possessions fitting into a single suitcase, I left Lisbon for this geographically African yet utterly isolated enclave. My new home sits a few dozen minutes from the main town, nestled in the upper part of a small village overlooking the beach and sunset.
With work demands easing lately, I've gained the freedom to structure my days as I please. Thus, I've resumed my “paradigm lifestyle”:
-
Wake up leisurely in the morning, walk five minutes to the beach to listen to the waves, and practice a round of 42-form Tai Chi.
-
Brew coffee, make breakfast, then head to the town's coworking space—specifically designed for digital nomads—to write articles
-
Return home for a salad lunch, then take a nap. Upon waking, open my language textbook to study grammar
At 4 or 5 PM, head out with roommates for ball games or join the community for group workouts by the sea -
Cook dinner at home, then watch the sunset with roommates while discussing esoteric topics
-
Before bed, play games together before saying goodnight
The town is small, with limited entertainment options. Instead, a tight-knit community ensures everyone has something to do each day. Today's workout, tomorrow's dinner, yoga the day after, hiking the day after that... Though most are short-term residents like me, staying two or three months before moving on, many return daily like swallows to their old nest—even if this island isn't home. Several have stayed since the pandemic, helping build this community...
They speak so casually about spending this winter here, running a marathon in Lisbon next month, attending a conference in Sicily the month after, then heading to Asia to visit friends. On one hand, I marvel at the exponential growth of experience brought by this accumulation of travel. On the other, I can't help but think of the new colonialism hidden beneath today's beautiful packaging.
Whether in Dali or Ponta da Sol, those with even a passing interest in divination share certain commonalities—a parallel resonance of thought. When one treats various theories as genuine scholarship, profound insights beyond words emerge.
Teacher Gemini said: “Silent yet accomplished, unspoken yet trusted—this resides in virtue.” Not everyone attains enlightenment by “measuring the world.” Some awaken through suffering; others, through the mundane grind of daily life. What you traverse with your feet is what they forge within their own limited space.
Goodnight from the Atlantic,
Matthew 💙
Post Cards Nr.04 - Sent from Oslo, Norway

Hi, I hope this letter finds you well!
Six months ago, during a meeting, my supervisor suddenly brought up my PhD pre-defense. I thought to myself: But I have absolutely nothing in hand right now?
For the past six months, I had been immersed in the freedom of a nomadic world. Yet, in a trance, I found myself back in the bitter cold of the extreme north, standing on the podium. My mouth kept narrating the dozens of slides on the screen; my fingers rapidly flipped through the hundred-page thesis in my hands.
Reaching the final page, I said, "That concludes my thesis report." I let out a long breath, bracing myself for the committee’s bombardment. Questions came from all directions, but I caught them all gently. I wouldn't say I handled it effortlessly, but before I knew it, two hours had passed.
I realized that when I know my research inside out—when I feel a genuine confidence in my "work" from the bottom of my heart—I seem to be less afraid of being questioned or hearing dissenting opinions.
And so, stumbling along the way, I have passed the halfway mark of my third year:
-
I was the first in my cohort to finish the pre-defense.
-
My previous articles have reached 30 citations.
-
The paper I submitted to a communication conference was accepted (South Africa, here I come!!).
Recently, I’ve fallen in love with visiting large supermarkets, especially after getting off work. The people in the supermarket dress and act differently from those on the street. Wandering through the aisles, I felt how truly beautiful a mundane life can be. I bought berries, sushi, white wine, and Spanish chorizo. Another dinner where I treated myself well.
After eating, I sat at my desk, staring at the sunset outside. When a person has idle time, it is easy to ponder philosophy. From January until today, I have already watched 11 movies and read 4 books. Last week, I read Chai Jing’s Insight (Kanjian) yet again. I sincerely feel that whether doing journalism or academic research, digging into the essence of a phenomenon and telling it in plain, unadorned language truly allows the reader to feel the leap of ideas.
A friend recommended I read Train Dreams, saying I would definitely like it. And I did like it very much. I asked him to guess who my favorite character was. He said, "Arn... after all, you have an old soul..." Indeed, I feel that chatting with "old chaps" gives me a new understanding of some cliché phrases. Like "gathering evening blossoms sown at dawn" (recalling the past), or "ask only about the plowing, not the harvest." When you savor them, they are truly wonderful.
Although I question the academic circle more and more, To be alive, to be ordinary, to be decent, "To stand independent in the world, unswayed by the current," That is already enough.
Love from Oslo, Norway,
Matthew 💙
Post Cards Nr.03 - Sent from CDMX, Mexico
¡Hola, dear YOU,
This is my first time setting foot in North America outside the United States.
I came purely because I found an unbelievably cheap flight—and it also happened to be Celina’s birthday.
So I took four flights, spent thirty-two hours in transit, and finally landed in Veracruz.
I stayed at Celina’s place for five nights.
Her parents and brother took especially good care of me—showing me around, feeding me endlessly, and, along the way, introducing me to some twenty-odd relatives.
Mexicans really are… genuinely warm.
But being well taken care of also lowers one’s guard.
On my very first morning alone in Mexico City, I was “forced into a shoe shine” by a stranger and ended up paying twenty-five US dollars.
Walk often by the river, and your shoes are bound to get wet.
I know it wasn’t quite the right thing to do—it does, in a way, enable bad practices.
But he needed that twenty-five dollars more than I did.
And between arguing with him and keeping myself safe, I chose the latter.
That said, the Roma district of Mexico City really does feel like Shanghai’s former French Concession.
Every corner carries traces of history.
Sunlight falls on layers of green plants; people walk two or three dogs at a time.
The streets are lined with artsy cafés, breakfast spots, and boutique stores.
Yet mixed into the carefully dressed crowds is a dense concentration of American accents—
constant “omg you look amazing”—
which somehow makes the whole world feel slightly unreal.
Of all the places I’ve been so far, Mexico is the one that leaves me most disoriented.
Sitting at outdoor tables, there is always someone passing by with an instrument, stopping to play.
The colourful streets and alleys are constantly filled with music.
People come and go, dressed in every imaginable way.
Each moment feels like something that should exist only in a film—
a form of life that doesn’t quite feel real.

¡Mucho
Gusto!
Even after being scammed, I still find myself thinking the world is wonderful.
Complicated, profound, impossible to fully understand, and impossible to ever finish seeing.
Work has been quite intense lately,
but after some procrastination, I somehow managed to get everything done.
The New Year is almost here.
So let me wish you—slightly in advance—a very happy New Year.
With love from Mexico, Mexico City,
Matthew 💙
Post Cards Nr.02 - Sent from Madrid, Spain
My dear YOU,
A week ago, I packed a small bag, left Lisbon, and set off for a month on the road.
(1)
After a year, I found myself back in Spain, visiting Sergio once more. Last year I arrived in Zaragoza by train from Barcelona and slept on his sofa for two nights. This time, carrying the same backpack, I came back by bus. Standing in the central station, looking around, everything felt strangely recent, almost unchanged. We drove north together; the Basque castles fading into the dusk left faint silhouettes against the horizon. Later, we ate tapas on a street corner in Pamplona. People drifted past in waves—shouting, dancing, laughing as if joy were abundant and free. In that moment, simply being alive in this world felt like enough.
(2)
After five years, I finally reunited with Avery somewhere far away in Europe. She is still unmistakably “Chongqing”—still laughing easily, still speaking with that familiar sharp humour, still wonderfully careless with the small things. On the bus back to the airport hotel, I suddenly recalled the summer of 2017 in Colombo, Sri Lanka: the two of us squeezed into a crowded night bus, dragging oversized suitcases towards the airport. I spent my birthday in that terminal; she handed me a card. We were twenty then, and neither of us imagined we would end up pursuing PhDs, nor that research would make our hair shed in different corners of the world… The last time we met was in Chongqing. In Matthew’s Little Book of Life Lessons, she wrote: “Hope to become Dr. Li soon.” You will. We both will.
The night before I left Sergio, I gave him the old phone I barely use anymore. It holds more value for him than for me. I erased everything in a few quick taps—no backup, nothing kept. Just like that, everything from 2025 disappeared.

一期一会
いちごいちえ
“One time, one meeting.” Precisely because time never circles back, we honour every encounter with the fullest sincerity we can. May everything be gentle and smooth wherever you are. ✨
With love from Madrid,
Matthew 💙
Post Cards Nr.01 - Sent from Cape Roca, Portugal
Hey, hope this message finds you well.
This is the first postcard I’m sending through WeChat, written from the westernmost edge of continental Europe—Cabo da Roca in Sintra, Lisbon.
Portugal has turned colder lately, though the days remain clear enough to catch beautiful sunsets by the sea. I’ve been craving hotpot, but there’s nowhere here that does it well. It’s been a month since I moved, and making friends feels almost impossible. I tried two martial arts classes, but the coach was a bit too intense, so I slipped away. I’ve been taking climbing more seriously though—and with Black Friday, I managed to equip myself properly.
Fieldwork has gone reasonably well (even if the actual writing hasn’t progressed at all). I’ve met many new colleagues, and everyone has offered thoughtful advice. Academia is still… academia. But at least I finally feel like I’m actually doing research, which in some sense answers the question of why I chose to stay in this path.
I hope the journal submission gets accepted, I hope I’ll be approved to attend a conference in South Africa next year, I hope the scholarship for the exchange in Germany comes through, and I hope the mid-term evaluation goes smoothly. ☘️
Until we meet again—may all be well. 💙
With love,
Matthew

Historical Post Cards








