the 1st confrontation

by the end of 2010, i emptied the inbox of my mailbox, deleted 8700 emails, among which 4700 were unread.

i kept all the loveletters i wrote or received. i kept even most of the facebook messages.
it took me a long time to delete some of the sms(es) that should no longer matter after a relationship is gone. and i could only delete some of them, as i have the tendency to keep everything. it will take me a even longer time to get rid of this tendency. it would be nice if i had only dated one boy. diversity is nice but when memories accumulate the impact is ridiculously disasterous. sometimes i wish someone would not let me go. but he really did. and it was not my decision. there is always something i remember as a part of my youth. i love him when i take now away and enter the past. but i cannot love him now. now is what we do not have.

i haven't been fair to those who love me for real. i have never been fair. my love has made me selfish. i am in love with everything about love. the idea that we were once in love. the idea that we are still in love. the idea that we will be in love. the idea that there is always love.

i am merely 23, but sometimes it feels like a minor decision i make can already ruin everything i have built. i have come too long a way to where i am now. i feel like a 32. not knowing where to go next, worrying that if i turn right i may miss what's left, too afraid of starting over and even more afraid of not being able to start over.

have i been fair to myself?

it has been a year full of love though. i have no idea what i have done to deserve this much. but if you love me, i will love you. we must have been sort of lucky, let's make each other happy.

shut up.

cherry, shut up. why do you talk so much? don't you realise how annoying you are?

i am driving myself (and possibly some other people, too) crazy. i think too much. and i talk even more. i think i have to learn to be a bit more quiet and spend more time in silence.

or just shut up and play the piano.

by the way, what is the next song i should learn to play...?

my stomach hurts tonight.

dislike feeling unwell. :(

on loveletters

most of the loveletters i wrote, i dare not to read them again. (ok, some of them are emails, that's why i can keep reading them even after having them sent.) i think i used to keep reading them. and the stupidest thing i did was not writing them and reading them repeatedly afterwards, it was to wait for replies.

not every juliet gets a romeo. and i'm not even a juliet to begin with.

sometimes i think to myself that if there is ever a next time, i will be literally the coolest girlfriend ever, that i would not spill my heart out and be so readable. that i would be mysterious always. but then it would not be me. i am a book, afterall, although sometimes difficult, with dictionary invented it only takes some wisdom and patience to get by.

i will always be a clumsy girlfriend. (yup. so uncool.)

you give me peace.

i live in a world of artistic people at the age of 20-30 something who have already accomplished a lot. their passion for art, and love and the enjoyment of life is so vividly strong that it almost hurts my eyes. every step i take is a realisation of the tightness of time. i want to do a lot more than what i am doing.

there are two sources of exhaustion:

1. working too hard
2. boredom

it is indeed a wonderful feeling to be so into a task that you barely feel the passage of time, and your own muscles aching. but being exhausted by boredom is nothing but a sincere torture. it drives me crazy.

very few people in the universe are able to spend their life being absorbed into the tasks they are passionate for.

with the piano i play the same song over and over again, to the extent that i must have annoyed the ears of my dear family. but i cannot help it. it felt too good. likewise, with words i write about the same things repeatedly because i am pathetic enough to cling to these feelings.

without art i would have been half-dead. can you imagine living in a flat with no windows? you are in desperate need of these windows because you do not want to go out, you just really want to know what is out there, you want to feel the wind and the sun beams on your skin, even though you have ridiculously shut yourself up and closed yourself in. art gives you the windows of a flat. it opens you up, at least spiritually.

kiss me madonna. you give me peace.

我想說......

其實本人一直都對任先生沒好感，也覺得我這張不安份的嘴不應該說太多話，不過實在奇怪這件案件和阿桑奇案件怎麼莫名其妙地相似，最奇怪是為何兩位受害人都主動邀請非親人／男友／好友的男人回家？被人性侵犯／強姦的時候不拚死爭扎又要等到第二天才去報警？除非受害人與這些男人相識已久、有感情基礎、防不勝防…… 自小媽媽就教誨說要避免與男孩子共處一室，不要給別人機會做錯事，有些人以為自己不犯錯就可以了、別人做甚麼沒有所謂、別人錯是別人的事、別人虧待你也是別人的問題。

有沒有想過有些事情其實可以避免？

這是我從媽媽的教誨和中學的歷史課堂學來的，從鴉片戰爭到日本侵華的遠因、近因，都不乏中國本身的問題。邀請陌生男子回家「修理電腦」 是不是有點兒荒謬？同事教的：永遠不要以職業判斷一個人的好壞，警察、老師都有壞人，壞人都有做好事的時候，好人都有做壞事的時候，更何況是一個「維園阿哥」？

題外話：婚前性行為的普及化，就引致了很多諸如此類的問題，至少婚前性行為還未普及的時候，男人不會以為「性」是男歡女愛中理所當然的事情。

這個時候，我想quote一quote香港獨立媒體Chan Melody的一篇文章《任亮憲事件的花生倫理》 ：

「事實上，社運界尤其是性／別運動圈，近年來積極開拓種種情慾論述，其一原因與社會運動向來對個體／集體自由的關懷一脈相承：乃是因為關注到，由情慾道德論述築起的圍牆，去到底還是直接束縛人的自由。以婚姻束縛情色慾望、以一對一關係去鎮壓人的多元情慾、將「好色」打為罪名以抑壓個體想像力及身體實踐，說到底就是要將個人收押在家庭機制之內、要求他遵循社會的生產道德、剝奪其探索自我／整理內在的權力和創造力，或曰將人的菱角與異端切去、以求將他填入社會期望的角色模板，確保社會順暢運作不致崩潰 ─ 這些都是社運界一直力求掙脫的枷鎖。」


下？咩話？

Chan Melody還有一篇《公／私「道德」：花生的公共意義》，不quote了。


小女的讀後感：

「道德」是束縛，「擺脫道德」會不會成為束縛？「單一」是束縛，「多元」會不會成為束縛？如何分別「民主」和「變相專制」？市民是否不應該憑個人喜惡批評一位政客？有沒有社運人士憑個人喜惡去批評政府？有沒有社運人士憑個人喜惡選擇批評政府的方法？「專制」和「民主」是不是源於個人喜惡？

純粹有些問題未解決。

there is this one thing i want to do.

i have lived with the desire for having it done for so long. months after months, days after days, it has grown on me like trees grown on soil and flowers grown on heat. here is a knot i have yet untied. i feel like a trapped animal in the zoo, living in a freedom so pretencious.

i am now twenty-three. soon i will be a year older. i wonder where and how to spend this coming birthday. i want to do it quietly. i am, indeed, afraid of my own birthday. i am afraid that twentry-four may not be a good year.

how do i make it good? what do I think?

the proceedures of thoughts give me headaches. i want a week or 10 days of vacation, hang out with some fun and cool people, have plenty of drinks, and write a lot about everything.

i want to write a lot about E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

安份守己

在冷冷的天氣 靜靜的 收埋自己
也許我要等到我三十歲 才有本事擁抱我一直渴望的自由
此刻的我決定了不要太早生孩子 我甚至沒有興趣結婚
害怕從此只能花上一輩子去 與等待困獸鬥

失去了所有及時行樂的時間和快樂 我沒有那樣的動力
這樣的天氣令我很累 只想好好的睡上一覺
我期待春天來到的時候 花兒會開
我還想看看 最燦爛的五月花
忍不住要慨嘆 在這死寂的寒冷中 我已經不漂亮
皮膚乾得發癢 頂著沒有心情梳理的一頭散髮
我甚至連妝扮的意欲也沒有

慶幸在這突然灰沉的日子 手上還捧著媽媽的熱湯
她給了我 最溫暖的所有 不論是縱容 還是遷就

最冷的冬天

我今天花了二百大元 光顧了我從來未曾光顧的作家
買來了卓韻芝的兩本奇遇記
然後用在路上的時間 把《最冷的冬天》看完了

我，十分滿足；她，值得一讚。

人生中最令人無奈又不忿氣的其中一件事情
大概就是花了兩小時，甚至更多的時間
去看一本看完也不知看了甚麼的書
情況就像不小心看了一齣鄭中基的電影一樣糟糕
平白浪費了時間 實在令人心痛 不如睡一覺還好

相反 在絕對偶然的情況下 遇上了一本好書
就像把時間連本帶利賺回來了一樣!

從前的我 也是想做就做 並全情投入去做
可是人大了就愈來愈多顧忌 當然客觀環境也帶來了很多局限
但更大的阻力 是因為有很多事情 不做更容易
不做就免了很多煩人的細節 不做就不會引起不必要的麻煩
不做就天下太平 日子也是如常地過

不過有些事情 如果不做 終於還是要後悔的
就趁青春 趁末日還沒有來到 想想想做的要怎樣做吧 -

至少我要把所有我想寫的都寫出來 -

其實拍拖最麻煩的一件事情，就是對方或多或少都會認定
你筆下的男主角只有他一個

對於像我這樣的女子來說 那實在是痛苦的
因為繆思這東西 也許來自一個人的一部份 一個小動作 一句說話
亦有可能來自很多人 當中有些甚至只有一面之緣

這個世界上 到底有沒有不花心的詩人?
我們總是那麼貪婪的想要用文字留住這世上所有觸動人心的美好

文字最神奇的地方 是它補足了現實的很多缺失
而它甚至不需要與現實有任何關係

作為一位默默無名 但依然忠誠的作家
我仍舊嚮往那樣的厚顏 有時候 寫一首情詩
沒有對象的 更不是為了甚麼人
只為了所謂的自我圓足 讓浪漫的想法有個落腳地

最後 如果有神 我希望這個世界沒有戰爭

爸爸的恤衫

偶爾在馬莎遇上了爸爸的紫色恤衫 勾起了幾乎無法自拔的思念
我永遠懷念他穿著那恤衫 高談闊論的身影

過去的多少逸事 想起也是快樂 也是心痛
事隔多年還是會傷心 會哭
因為那不單單是一種思念 還是一種長久的掛牽
假如死亡只是代表塵世以外的另一種生活 他現在過得可好？
在另外的那個世界 他是否快樂? 是否健康? 是否自由?
我遺憾我在宗教方面也是個花心的人 只要是好的 我都相信
但願人死後 能夠去到一個像天堂那樣美好的地方

我只想知道他安好 因為我已沒有照顧他的能力和機會

不去想 就不會哭
可是就是不捨得不去想他 不去念舊 因為回憶那樣珍貴
他那樣舉足輕重 我捨不得放手讓時間去淡忘所有
我寧願偶然為這回憶悲傷

某程度上 這是我自己造成的
也許 我總是在悲傷裡尋找自虐的快樂

我用這樣的方法把我的生活 - 從前也好
現在也好 還是未來 都保持鮮活

因為我也是鮮活的 活著就是不要拒絕感受 活著就是感受

活著活著

今天才突然發現自己忘記了活著要viva
活著是為了像蝴蝶來又去!

還有一個星期就步入聖誕了
希望可以過一個溫暖的聖誕節
待在家裡喝熱朱古力看聖誕電影也不錯
也許還可以去聽聽別人報佳音看看燈飾
是不是也應該打扮一下呢...? :)

近來真的發現自己身體差了很多
個個星期都感冒 穿很多衣服還是冷得發抖
要想辦法逼自己做做運動才可以啊。

我只想 身體健康

i remember myself

crying when i looked at the photos of myself as a kid. i must be sort of sentimental. but that was too much. to some extent i wish i could remember what i was thinking when those photos were taken. i remember myself hanging out with my mother all day long. she would doll me up and take me everywhere. we would play the doctor-patient game, and sometimes i pretended to be a property agent, and mom would be the client looking for a flat. my father would always buy me chocolates and take me to the park, where i could play the swing. i loved the swing. he would push me high and that was so much fun, for those moments i truly was carefree. because i knew he would catch me if i ever had to fall. it's not like i don't like to grow up, and be an adult. (although to some extent it really sucks to be an adult.) but adults get to fall in love. and stay up all night drinking, dancing, giggling, kissing. (i don't do that as often as i used to now, however.) but being a kid is one of the loveliest things in the entire universe. i will forever miss such innocence. whenever i see my baby nephew my heart feels so full. not only because he is cute, but because of the purity he brings along, he carries with him everything wonderful that belongs only to a kid. i am missing him so much again. all i can think about are his face, his smiles and the way he talks. i should go sleep now before i turn myself into crazy aunt cherry. head over heels.

終於完成了本學期最後一份功課!

其實本學期我就只有兩份功課......
不過人的天性似乎就是不願意做功課，於是一直拖
拖到死線才知要動筆

不過總算完成了！終於可以放下了這一塊壓在心頭的大石。
直至下學期又開始...... :(

其實我知道書不可以不讀，所以雖然明知下班上學會辛苦
(甚至知道這是難以負擔得起的一個消費......)
仍然一鼓作氣裁進去了
心裡總是懼怕會被社會淘汰 (眼見身邊的人的學歷愈來愈高)
不過更害怕的是我的知識和智慧終於會變成放得下但拿不起的一件事情
所以總需要甚麼來推動自己努力向上不撻皮 (哈哈! 很久沒用的term!)

而且我暗地裡覺得翻譯可以持續訓練個腦之餘又好好玩。:D

其實我愈來愈不信任這個諾貝爾獎和平獎
自從它上年給了奧巴馬之後
我已經覺得它違背了諾貝爾的原意
成為了一個見風轉舵的獎項
只在乎引人注意，不在乎實至名歸
今年也是一樣

可能很多人會不同意 (其實都肯定會有很多人不同意)
不過「民主」和「和平」其實是兩回事
有民主不等如有和平，有和平也不等如有民主
無論基於甚麼原因 出於絕對的善意也好 一旦製造了衝突 就破壞了和平
(不是說「民主」不重要 只是這也是事實)
法國大革命的三個理想是Liberty, Equality, Fraternity
沒有peace 因為在那個情況沒有可能有

這個獎項在明在暗都成為了一個政治手段
但是人不會在乎的 只要事情是站在自己那方就夠了
正如我不知在那裡聽說過
我們不是討厭不公平 只是討厭自己在這不公平中處於劣勢
你溫飽的時候 會質問這個世界上為何有人要捱凍捱餓嗎？
多數人只會在自己捱凍捱餓的時候 質問為何有人可以享受溫飽。
只要在不公平的事情上佔了上風 人就不會「嘈喧巴閉」

今天不討論誰對與不對 只想以不同的角度去想事情
這兩年的諾貝爾和平獎告訴我
一些不搞政治 但摯力為世界爭取和平的人 只能默默耕耘
沒有政治就沒有話題 沒有話題就不值一提

it's my thing.

La Pianista - Giovanni Boldini

it's been a long time since i last wrote anything here. some weeks ago i got myself a piano, and started to indulge myself in playing with it songs i did not know. my fingertips felt wonderful, i practiced everyday to the extent that i had worn myself out and fell again into traps of flu due to over-exhaustion.

last night i was playing it again, and a certain thought appeared on my mind, what if i were a pianist and i were to die at that particular moment? how could i bear the idea that i would never be able to touch the piano again? it would certainly be miserable. what if there was this one last song that i could never finish playing?

once upon a time i visualised myself being professional on piano playing, and then it was too much hard work, so i gave it up and resigned to the corner where it and i shall never matter much to each other. sometimes i envied those who could play it, and for the rest of the time i decided that it was not my thing.

but now i want it to be my thing. i've got a piano at home and i can play, whenever i am at home.

i used to say it all the time that everything i touch turns into words, like an alchemist, that's the magic of being a writer, now i wonder how wonderful it would be if everything i touch can turn into music, too.

so here it shall begin... my piano diary. :)

last night i spent some minutes watching time. art is time. everything is time. now every word here is a visualisation of time. time is ever too overwhelming. how many things can we do, with so little time? it could be the decision for a lifetime.

about the past two weeks

i have been busy planning birthday surprises. luckily everything worked out wonderfully. :)

a heart so heavy -

my heart.

happy birthday

few days ago i had a dream of you, a dream flooded with the “i miss you, i have to see you” kind of agony, a dream so unfulfilling, hopeless and devastating, almost like a tragedy.

the irony is how much i struggled to wake up from it, and found me safe when i was finally waking up into the world, in which reality spoke “see you no more” a thousand times more truthfully.

i think it is an old story now, our departure. but some stories always make me cry, no matter how many times i have re-visited them, or how much time i have spent not re-visiting them.

maybe it is the way truth is told. time heals nothing. it only moves us on and leaves us space to be filled with other things. but chances of encounter with the pins of memories circulate, like that dream out of nowhere. suddenly it pins me everywhere.

the only way i can manage not to cry when i think of you is to not think of you. but it makes me guilty and empty not thinking of you. the very sight of your smile chokes me with thoughts and tightens my throat. i wish there are ghosts, or spirits, or souls, just to know that you do not just disappear.

but it’s too old a story now. i feel embarrassed still not being able to overcome this wave of sadness. it looks like i am immature and stubborn or probably just stupid. but for all my life you have been so extremely important.

euripides would say, “waste not fresh tears over old griefs.”

but there is no such thing as old griefs. each time it is renewed and refilled, as each day is another day, breaks with a new shade of hue.

on addiction

it deprives me of sleep, of energy, and even of writing and reading. i am so addicted. it's the first thing that comes onto my mind every morning, and it is the last thing i think about when i go to bed at night. it has invaded my heart completely, taking away all my senses except my senses for it. the touch of it lifts my spirit and i feel so indulged when i feel it with my hands.

i am so completely addicted.

my heart is so full still. maybe it's just the passion from my childhood that has come alive. maybe it's just me, or the immediacy to make things happen, and all things beautiful, just like writing or painting, like words on papers or pictures on canvas.

it is so direct. ever honest. and so lovely. i wish the world would feel like how i feel when i am with it, every moment, so nothing bad can happen to anyone, because we are all so well-protected and sincere, simply by being with its being.

it feels like i have completely fallen in love, with a lover, whose presence is with me every second.

sometimes it only takes a long long time

to wait. sometimes it takes too long that you eventually forget
what you have been waiting for. but the waiting is not dead yet, it is only asleep. until someone or something comes around to wake it up and maybe when it is the right time it will then be awaken.

my heart is so full. i don't know why it took such a long time. maybe the time was never quite right. and i was never sure enough. it is not just a thing. it is major. and sacred. and it has what it takes to indulge me like a little princess. i only ever dreamt of having it. but i never did. i didn't even dare saying it out too loud.

now i have it. i want to keep it.

i remember too much

too well. of you, of me
of once upon a time the dazzling stares
on tangling steps, and i must have slept
for a century, already,
for i feel like i had, waking up
with the absent accent
out of nowhere and everywhere.

think me a thought.

at times i find him adorable. the way he walks with his arms wrapped around me, the smell of his shirt, the fact that he always says the wrong things at the wrong moments. the way that he sometimes doesn't know what he is indeed talking about, especially when he is with me.

today i saw many people taking graduation photos. and suddenly my heart was filled with a certain kind of warmth. i remember him rushing to me with a bunch of sunflowers on that particular day. i did not find it important until today i looked back and realised how glad i am to have had him all the way.

this evening i got his postcard from belgium. so here is the boy who would carry me in his heart even when he was on the other side of the world seeing some of the most beautiful views on earth. i know i was never forgotten.

adam and eve

it's time to give this sugar coma a little bit sugary boost. but my sugar level is actually very, very low. why is love ever so miserable? the less i want the less i can get, but wanting more can only make me a greedy person, and whoever greedy will only end up in either poverty or loneliness. so cherry will be a good girl and be still and wait, and maybe someday my love will reward me with a happiness sugary sweet (or maybe not.)

the art of love is not yet something i can render masterly. my hands are often stiff and cold. my voice too, oh my stupid little voice, i have no idea why it sounds like it is today. once upon a time i was in the choir! and my music teachers used to say i sang "the sound of music" beautifully. these days i prefer to sit quietly and write a lot. this is something i know for sure, that maybe one day i can live on my own words, if i try hard enough in making it happen.

these days i have been reading Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe. some women fall into the hands of fate and have to struggle enough before securing their happiness for real and for good. i find that heartbreaking and pathetic. but we are only here because for one moment god thought adam might be lonely...... *sigh*

so god made lonely eve to couple adam's share of loneliness, and they made us simply by hanging around in the garden of eden without wisdom.

but of course the adam in this painting is misleading, isn't it weird that he's covering himself up (as an act out of shame) before eve has successfully convinced him to taste the forbidden fruit? i think dr. muir talked about it already. how i miss the lectures i had back at school. i wish to go back one day, to indulge myself from head to toe in art and literature.

不洗手的女人

有次和男朋友去吃飯，男朋友告訴我那侍應生去完洗手間沒有洗手，我已經陷入極度恐慌。不過其實這情況在香港這個現代化城市仍很普遍，不只是男的，連女的也一樣。

很多時候，總是在洗手間目擊很多女士，從廁格走出來以後，草草的在水龍頭沾幾滴水，便算洗過了手。小姐呀，我剛剛花足幾十秒按照牆上的指示左搓搓右搓搓洗淨了手，你這樣輕輕過一過冷河又走去開門，我再去碰那門柄，豈不是白費了剛剛的時間、心機、水和梘液？你不是認為自己的一舉手、一投足都是無菌的吧？

最近常常都在這裡批評別人，實在令我有點兒討厭自己。不過為甚麼這些事業型女性，連小小的公德心、基本的衛生常識都欠奉？

由於現在是吃飯時候，我已經不想開始去投訴這些淑女去完廁所不沖廁的頻率有多高。

關愛機心

朋友說有親友的丈夫總是收到公司女同事的短訊，內容不外乎是提醒他「天氣凍了，要多穿衣服。」老婆當然不悅，多次向丈夫投訴，得到的回應也是「我甚麼都沒做過。」「只是一個普通訊息吧了。」「同事之間的關心，沒甚麼不妥。」之類。這個男人是真的不知道發生甚麼事，還是在裝傻？還是每個男人都享受諸如此類的左右逢源？

他的理直氣壯，令女人都開始懷疑自己小器，怕沒面子，又不敢向身邊的親友提起，老公又不肯處理，於是只能自個兒想想想想，那個時候心情大起大跌得好緊要，誰喜歡與一個情緒化的人共處？自然又是女人的錯，老公都怪她蠻不講理。

試問男女又怎可能平等？貞節對於大部份的女人來說都是非常重要的。女人出軌，自己接受得了與多於一個男人玉帛相見，也怕被世界嫌棄，說是水性楊花、紅杏出場。男人呢？只不過是逢場作興。在英語世界裡，花心的男人最多叫player、playboy，也聽不出有多侮辱，風流得來還帶有幾分瀟灑，女人卻開口埋口都是slut、whore，面皮再厚都無地自容。美好的二十多歲就投資在男人身上，到男人出頭，女人的美麗年華亦已不再，姊弟戀招人話柄之餘又沒有未來，年紀小的男人未有本事，那會和你結婚、組織家庭？再等一下吧，終於等到他出頭了，女人再老一點，男人又再意氣風發一點，新一批的二十多歲美女、才女又冒起了，那個男人甘心有得看沒得吃？男女不平等，本來就是現實，更何況，女人有仔還要趁嫩生，寧願承受九級撕裂的劇痛都要生孩子，養兒一百歲，又要長憂九十九。幾多的歲月只能磋跎。

話說回頭，大家都是女人，難道看不出對方那些短訊有何居心？真正的好人，就不會做出令人誤會的、影響別人夫妻感情的事情，知道別人是有婦之夫就應該懂得避忌。但偏偏在男人眼中，家裡的那個永遠都是小器、壞心眼又妒忌心重，外頭那個就甚麼都好，天氣冷了還會關心同事，心地善良又溫柔體貼，現在還要被自己的老婆誣蔑，男人頓時覺得她梨花帶雨又多添了幾分楚楚可憐。

這個世界，不是女，就是男，男女總會有交集，但人與人之間的相處，永遠都應該有一條底線，做人要清楚自己的身份、責任和位置，一個人只能對有限的人負責任。要你不覆女同事的短訊、避免不必要的誤會，也算是犧牲嗎？你犧牲了甚麼？何以那個短訊會如此重要？

難道那位女同事當了你的正室，她又會願意你去覆別個女人的短訊？她自己心裡最清楚這些關心背後的機心。

facebook birthdays

我說我不會隨便給不相熟或平時零交流的人在facebook說生日快樂，有人問我為何要吝嗇這樣一個令人快樂的小動作，說這只是一個分享愛的方法。

如果我對那個人有心，我不會執著於生日這一天；如果我和那個人有交流，我會留言，盡可能都不只一句「happy birthday」那麼敷衍，關係再好些的，我會發個信息、打個電話、約他吃飯，甚至為他舉行生日會。我相信在生日當天得到朋友的祝福是高興的，但我們的世代也有些奉行「量化政策」的人，生日的時候得到的生日留言愈多，就覺得愈快樂，但那種快樂只不過是來自留言數目的多寡 ( = 虛榮心)，與說的人沒有關係。幾天前，南華早報就報導過，我們的年青人原來已經被facebook佔據生活到一個地步，會因為在facebook上的留言不夠多而感到憂鬱和沮喪。

相反，亦有些人，不在乎留言，只在乎留言的人。我和他真的不相熟，我也不覺得這樣好日都不說話只是生日留個言有多大誠意。在我的觀念裡，朋友之間的愛不是單向的，有些友誼，建立了又無法維持，我寧願不要了，每一段關係都必須用心建立，我不把閒來說八掛吃喝玩樂的酒肉朋友當作好朋友，即使我曾經有多達20位好好好朋友(近來未有統計過)，他們全都是與我經歷過類似愛與生死那些經歷的人。不過，當然，每個人對朋友的定義也不一樣。

每個人分享愛的方式也不同，分享愛的對象也不同。

我的愛不在這裡，不在於給一些年青力壯生活幸福的人多餘而無意義的祝福和關心，我寧願花時間關心這個社會，為真正有需要的人去爭取、抱不平 (即使我未有激動到走上街去)；我也寧願多愛這個地球，facebook很好，就是因為我可以把有意義的信息分享出去，綠色和平需要人簽petition，用這個功能就超讚了。我也會為朋友的功課proofread，但只因他們總是那麼乖乖的自己絞盡腦汁之後才需要我的幫忙，他們是為自己的學業負責任，從來不會給我「老奉」的感覺。為甚麼我想要花一生從事藝術推廣？因為我認為精神上的富足最重要。好的藝術就是愛的表現，對人性、社會、大自然的愛，所謂的 romanticism 歌頌的也就是這些愛，與 romance 不同的，而我常常說我是 romantic，在很大程度上是指18世紀那個時候的那些 romantics。

幾天前才給米路介紹了一個網址，每天花幾分鐘click一click那些links，就可以把愛廣傳出去了。(現在順便宣傳一下……)

http://www.humane.net/

也許我是吝嗇的，facebook birthday messages，對於我來說，只是錦上添花，想要也好，不想要也罷。

壞好人 二

爸爸也是個壞好人。

有一年，姐姐給弟弟砌了一台電腦，說是生日禮物。不久之後，爸爸有個朋友，告訴他，她的兒子沒有電腦，爸爸就把弟弟的電腦送了給人，那時候，我們的經濟環境也不是很好，不過，他說送就送吧，我們都沒有說甚麼，直至他拿著電腦出去了，弟弟就哭了起來。(他當時年紀還小。)

他總是說當爸爸的兒女就是不能心胸狹窄、要大方。他也一心想著去幫人，總喜歡幫外面的人。賺到錢就通知全世界：「誰有需要就來問我老婆拿吧！」幫得人時又顧不到頭家，最終又要辛苦媽媽。

始終喜歡把錢到處派，只不過是去尼泊爾旅行，也答應給的士司機的兒女買電腦，給這個供書、那個供樓，邀請那麼多人來分享煩惱，想盡辦法要幫人解決問題、改善生活。媽媽在酒店想念我們，叫他給我打電話，他就要她等，等了她幾個小時，等到她發脾氣。

他幫這個交電費、那個交水費，公司的員工上班一個月，甚麼都不用做，就已經升職加薪還有租屋津貼，那樣好人的老闆去那兒找。

然後他病了，再死了，一直陪在他身邊的也就只有我們幾個，老實說，他活到人生最後一年，才懂得真真正正也永永遠遠地珍惜身邊最親的人。

可能因為爺爺是搞革命的，他有遺傳吧，爺爺放下家庭去解放國家，這樣的偉大，那麼的轟轟烈烈。

他大概也沒有想過自己會走得這樣早，可能是因為他總是認為老婆兒女在身邊，總是有辦法保護著的，就奮不顧身地去幫助人，到底那些人值不值得犧牲家庭去幫助，我也不知道，不過我也敢肯定他們不是壞人來的。

是我心胸狹窄嗎？也許。因為我的幸福總是為了些陌生人而粉碎，要求愈低，得到的待遇便愈差，終於剩下我要獨自擔起頭家。我也不敢太慷慨了，我知道如果顧不掂自己、顧不掂屋企，就會為疼愛我們的人帶來負擔。我也決心要當個可以讓媽媽弟弟妹妹倚靠的人，因為我們曾經活得那麼無依無靠，我會永遠守在他們身邊，把他們擺在第一位。

有時候，你對一方好，就是對另一方殘忍。我絕對不懷疑，我們在爸爸的心目中，從來都是最重要的，不過也因為我們經常都在，遇上甚麼事的時候，他就寧願忽略我們的需要。直至外頭的世界背棄他了，他就知道沒有甚麼人比親人更親。

同事問我為甚麼悶悶不樂，整個早上都這樣安靜，我不敢說其他人的記憶也一樣，但我的記憶偏偏總會出現連鎖反應，好日都不會想起這些傷心事，不過遇上了甚麼事情觸動了這些記憶，就出現骨牌效應，崩潰了，一發不可收拾。

我暫時還控制不了自己。我好怕命運會是一個周而復始的悲劇。 媽媽愛爸爸，也不過是愛他的心地好，誰會想到嫁個好人還要受那麼多的委屈。

我只想找個靜靜的地方，靜靜地哭。

壞好人

有些好人那麼壞。

他說：「我不求甚麼，一心只想待你好。」

她自然心花怒放，心想要不是因為他對自己有意思，絕不會這想關心她，有誰這麼得閒呢？天下間，那麼多事都不管，大家樂變相減薪他都不願置評，偏偏這樣著緊她的心理質素。

那樣的好人還不只一個，為甚麼總有這樣突如其來地待人好的男孩子？男女之間，甚至不需要是好朋友，甚至不需要有感情基礎。

那一年，爸爸不在了。暑假的最後一天，我在後台遇上他，偶然間，他知道我總是放學後，散漫長的步，找個地方就躲起來哭，他說他擔心我，從此以後，他在我非常脆弱的時候，給我很多的安慰和支持。

當然，我絕對有自作多情的傾向，(再加上他是那樣的一個美男子)，凌晨三時還在我的生日和情人節交界趕到我面前，偶然還跟我去約會，吃完飯再看戲，我難免開始有些泥足深陷。

一年半載之後，事情也還是那樣的毫無進展，情詩他照單全收，信息他永遠都覆，我還以為他和我兩情相悅。

當然愛情總沒有那麼順利，他到頭來也只是喜歡待人好，他對很多人都是這樣，只不過女孩子特別需要又容易得到那種類似獨家優惠的厚待，尤其是漂亮的女孩子。我傷心了，還是只能怨自己，他沒有責任要負的，待我好吧了，又沒佔我便宜，他對得住天地良心，計落我還有賺呢，憑甚麼去學人傷心。 更何況，他從頭到尾都沒有女朋友，他喜歡對誰好都可以。

女孩子最受得落和受不了的，都是男孩子莫名其妙的關心。

然後，我學聰明了，也不再隨便幻想甚麼，喜不喜歡我，不到他親口說出來，打死也不信。(就算他說出來，開心一下就好，不要有太多期望。) 愛情於我，終於那樣朝不保夕了起來。

幾多的傷心，就只怪那句「我只想待你好。」它可以甚麼都是，也可以甚麼都不是。

ridiculous thoughts

i think i am suffering from some major confidence and self-esteem issues. it would be rather stupid to say how one encounter might have crushed me. and i would rather, in most possible ways, deny it. i would choose to act mature and explain to myself how it was only one time and it would not matter. but then i can't, i can't and i still can't. i am still constantly feeling small and not particularly useful, special or worthy. of course i know i am not like any of those. but these feelings won't go away.

my friend told me that the first step to a soul-searching journey is to not start such a journey. oh but i feel like i need to do something before having myself further crushed.

i used to read Jane Eyre when i felt depressed and unimportant, just to realise that Jane is like me and i am not lonely. she is not pretty, but she is passionate.

"Most true is it that 'beauty is in the eye of the gazer.' My master’s colourless, olive face, square, massive brow, broad and jetty eyebrows, deep eyes, strong features, firm, grim mouth, — all energy, decision, will, — were not beautiful, according to rule; but they were more than beautiful to me; they were full of an interest, an influence that quite mastered me, — that took my feelings from my own power and fettered them in his. I had not intended to love him; the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, at the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously arrived, green and strong! He made me love him without looking at me." - Jane Eyre on Mr. Rochester

"I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself." Jane Eyre on Herself

and me on me. i am so troubled by everything lately. the re-occurrence of nonrecurring dreams. but i have to stop looking outside myself for happiness. no one is supposed to make you happy, cherry, you are the only one with such obligations.

objective eyes

i wish there is someone for me, someone in whose world i could ever be the most beautiful, wonderful, fabulous, gorgeous... etc. which would make me the best out of everyone, and justify the reason why in his world i should ever exist in a way so important.

i hate those objective eyes, of course i know, it's meaningless to want to be the best in every way in the realistic world outside, but isn't love an access to another magical reality? that's why girls/women often glow when they are in love, because for once in their lives there is some sort of perfection to count on.

beauty lives in the beholder's eyes. if it is objective it is no love, likewise, if it's objective it's no beauty.

if you're not blinded by love yet, not blind enough to see that she is at least the prettiest girl in the universe, you're possibly not in love with her.

why so objective? it's love, honey. it is supposed to perfect every bit of imperfection in the imperfect world, it's supposed to perfect you and her no matter how imperfect you both might be.

there is only one standard and acceptable answer ever. she has to be the best, the worst, the most in everything. tell her that she cannot be compared, that there is no one else like her, and she has to be the most beautiful in your world.

or else she is only the one most available to you. and that will suck till eternity.

thank you

for making me feel more defeated than a day ago, for having rushed over for someone else, on the day that i, too, needed to be comforted. my waiting has been meaningless. the way i sucked up my loneliness was simply stupid.

i wonder why i have to be such a tragic character in my own stories, why i had to be the one to walk under the rain in weather so cold, shedding tears so unwillingly.

i don't want to care about those who don't care about me anymore.

strange fear

meeting her often reminds me of my first experience on stage in a singing contest. it was disastrous and horrible. i didn't remember the lyrics. everyone was staring at me. i could not even find my voice. i had no idea why i was there. or why i had to put myself out there.

it was humiliating.

i think i met her first in 2007, that was 3 years ago. at first i found her gorgeous, and then i realised that she was also one of the most successful women in our society. how can someone be so smart, beautiful, energetic, clear-minded and absolutely perfect? i get so nervous everytime i see her, that my mind goes blank and my tongue turns tied. everytime i end up talking in broken english with empty words. she is too good, i feel weak immediately. the secret castle i built in me collapses right at her approach. the nicer she is to me the more i have to panic. oh it has been such a nightmare. i love seeing her, and hate having me seen. like a little fans standing in front of her super idol, thinking "i will never be good enough."

maybe it is because my confidence has been built on the fact that everyone and everything has to be flawed in some ways, that perfection exists in imperfection. but this lovely woman in front of me shows how exactly someone can be so nearly flawless. my flaws get all alert in her presence, like hands that squeeze my neck so hard i can almost suffocate.

i feel so defeated. this woman's effect on me is greater than even most handsome men. today i took the challenge again and failed in every possible way. i again acted like a stupid barbie doll, a vase, a cherry just small in terms of both form and meaning. i always know that i am good enough, and i will always be better - except that everytime i see her my belief disappears.

my desires to be better and matter are then awake. i can't wait to make things happen, to grow and to glow. but how? oh strange fear, speak to me.

winter makes me sad.

the cold weather. its faded flowers and fallen leaves.
the failing efforts to warm my feet.
it makes me tired. for i use too much of me to fight the chills.
the annoyingly wooing winds freeze each summer dream.

but one thing makes me glad.
although i am still constantly tired and flu is still a close friend of mine,
i seem to have become prettier. finally, make-up is no longer a daily necessity.
when i look into the mirror now to my natural skin, i don't find myself so ugly.

i often dream about myself living a healthy lifestyle
like waking up early and exercising on my rooftop.
but i love sleeping too much i can't help myself.

if i am your stupid girl,

would you be my stupid boy?

it's meant to be hard, honey.

i have got used to the fact that my happiness never comes easy. even if it began easily, it would eventually mean lots and lots of hard work and hearts squeezed to exhaustion.

maybe one day you will give it up. for being too tired, having too little time, realising that it is not worth the efforts, or this lady of too much imagination being too troublesome.

i sincerely wish that there is a (handsome) boy out there who is destined to fall in love with me and love me forever. i think he is you now. i once thought he was someone else.

this entry is to remind myself to never stop falling in love.

hard work is not scary. yet a loveless life is.

it's like a little hollow to me.

a tiny hide-out.
here is a place i would retreat to, when life doesn't go my way.

long distance love

i want to kiss you so much,
for hours, all night long, all the way through
december, years after years,
your cheeks, your lips, your ears
your neck, slender
like a snake, my kisses render
a meandering path. and whisper to you
my dear, words of the days of the wanting
waiting to be recovered.
the distance lies between
how i could and why i can't.

C+心事

等著等著，就忘記了要數日子。day zero，day one，來到今天。等待雖然痛苦，但當日以繼夜以繼日的期盼終於要實現的時候， 又會覺得這些日子的等待是那樣的微不足道。不過再想起，等到之後又要再等過，難免又有些難過。為甚麼人總是在分離的時候才懂得珍惜團圓？

戀愛和等待總是分不開的。小時候日等夜等，等一個人真心愛自己。談戀愛的狀態太多，暗戀、苦戀、明戀、熱戀、異地戀，曾經好幾年拒絕戀愛，再花了幾個一年半載等待一些原來只會待你好，但不會愛你的人，愛情還是沒有來，心灰意冷之後，突然又竟然不用等了，命運接二連三地安排了幾個可愛的男孩子，相愛直到發現有些距離沒法遷就。

距離就是時間吧。終究還是要等。

我並沒有所謂手到拿來的愛情，時間再短也好，也都是難得。(當然，時間更長就更難得。) 只不過我習慣把甚麼都輕描淡寫，因為那樣才浪漫，輕輕的就像水花。

lunchtime poetry

there is no other time
as idle as this moment. as fulfilled
as decent, as officially abundant.
but i sense a cold coming
my eyes are sore, my throat is not
listening. it must be a cold i caught
this morning.

i should have worn a thicker sweater. :(


i want to make an ugly chocolate cake for this typhoon day. :D

childish innocence

the purest kind of love is probably the kind of love that counts on nothing but its own being.
no talks of the future. it talks not of the past. only now. you and me and here and forever. with the happy power of my childish innocence. i loved like a lost soul. i wandered lost in love. every step of it was a dare. every dare of it was so dear. i wanted nothing out of it but love itself. i got to be no one else but me in it, myself. the only way to keep something so pure is to not keep it. let it exist outside reality. push it outside mundane necessities. only in languages i reminiscent. and i do it quietly.

typhoon, typhoon

typhoon, typhoon
coming, too soon. like a midnight lover
in late october. too harsh, too fast,
he throws rocks at my window, my curtain roars
to his hustle. it's too dark to flutter.

fallen trees block the sidewalk
in willowy talks. is there not
a feather? to eye the eye
(when the cyclone smothers the misty hot air)
of the heartlessly blind.

love and formalities

before everything begins, please be aware that according to most people i know, my logics aren't exactly the same as the majority's. (you don't have to read it, you know.)

(but you know how chaos are sometimes orders you can't recognise, and so are my logics.)

i have observed that, in modern day society, love is often represented by or linked to certain formalities. at first those formalities might appear to be some ways of expression of love. but then for some unknown reasons (probably known, but i am too tired to find out) these ways of expression have come together and build a seemingly scientific ruler for the measurement of love.

in my very personal point of view, if it is ever objective, it is no love, and love itself can never be measured or compared.

and here are the formalities people use to judge whether a love is deep, or true:

1. time (days/months/years/decades/forever)
2. result (breakup/marriage)

often people ask, "how long have you been with him?"if it's only "days/months", they comment right away, "oh it's not love yet." "how long after a breakup would you start dating again?" it is aassumed that the longer it takes, the less shallow your love is. "how long have you known this boy/girl before you fall in love?" again, it is also believed that the longer it takes, the more serious you are about your relationship, and the more likely that your relationship will last.

but that's only what they say. who are they anyway? love is art, not mathematics.

now, in my logics. time should only matter in the sense that it's proportionate to one's life. the tricky thing is, you never know how long your life will actually be. the thing that's definitely more important than time is timing. it doesn't matter how short/long your love is, but it matters whether the timing for you to love is right. cliche-wise, we know not how short/long our lives are, thus all we should do is to treasure every moment and every chance to make it beautiful and meaningful. i can't wait. not even for one more minute. i don't want to die without trying, or die regretfully.

so as long as two people are true to each other when they are in love, time does not matter.

i can believe how many people wishfully think their relationships will result in marriages. the thing i can't believe in is the fact that many of them turn love into hate and sweet memories into disasters and beauty into ugliness once they realise that some relationships may result in breakups.

breakups are definitely hard. it upsets even your organs. but if you assume that once it does not work out it means only nothing. you have, indeed, wasted your life. one of the ultimate cliches goes like this, "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." cliches are cliches because they are truths that have been told and re-told too many times. cliches are wise.

i am, afterall, happy, for having loved the ones i loved. everything was good, and everything still is. even if it is broken, it is still beautiful. i would not have changed a moment of it, even if i could.

hugo boy

two years ago on the third day of a september, he arrived at my life as god's dearest gift, that was the second month after my own father passed away. at that time, life to me was pretty much a disaster. until this little stranger came around. i didn't know how much i would love him. had no idea how much he would mean to me. but i knew already, how that big smile on his little face could once and again put my heart at ease. i named him hugo.

hugo is my baby nephew. he is one of the sweetest kids i know. yesterday he came over and we played for hours. he is such a selfless and generous kid. everything he has to drink or eat, he shares with me or others. as long as someone asks, he will always give. he smiles so much. and talks a lot. at one point i got very sick at my stomach and had to lie on my bed. he with his little hands took a blanket from the sofa and carried it all the way into my room, and then he climbed onto my bed, and covered me with it, saying that i must be cold. how sweet! how sweet! i love him so much, to the extent that my heart aches. this little darling, my hugo boy. a true angel.

i am so extremely tired tonight. but he has been on my mind all day long that i had to come home and write something about it. :) i love him so so much.

just another piece of saturday dizzy-minded soliloquy

most people may think it takes certain laziness to work for the government. according to my experience, that isn't entirely true. the truth is you can choose to work lazily almost everywhere, your boss may not notice, and if you don't mind losing your colleagues' respect. (respect is ever a hard-earned thing.) but one thing about working for the government is true: it limits your flexibility. (but sometimes in a good way.)

i have to say that the months i have spent in the arts education section have been just as rewarding as the months i spent in the gallery. it's my 7th month here to be exact. of course it's fine to work overtime when it's necessary. a normal employee will not leave without getting his/her duties for the day done. but it's certainly lame to stay around just to prove to your boss how hardworking you are. it's probably cruel, but productivity should be result-oriented. and i wonder if a person's capability is productivity-oriented. it seems to be. but still, your attitude matters most to everything. you can choose to be lazy, but it's also your life that you're lazying around. honestly i don't think i'd even go to work if i don't need to raise my family. laziness lives in my bones. i can feel it like the blood running through my body. i would have slept for long hours and written a lot about everything, or gone dating and dancing till dawn. but the sense of responsibility is just something stronger. now having a job and doing it good matter too much to me. because i can't even start to imagine how to sustain my family if i don't earn enough. even in my dreams i am still working. sometimes i secretly blame dad for not having planned better, how come he didn't see the day that once he was gone it would only be helplessness remained? but maybe he didn't even get the time to think. it was, afterall, a disastrously speedy brain tumour that caught us all unguarded. now it's my turn to be the planner.

i used to have two biggest problems that hinder my way to success, no matter in school or study or even personal matters. the first one is punctuality and the second one is carelessness. i am obsessed with working fast because the sense of speediness makes me feel extraordinary. punctuality and carelessness were not minded in the gallery, but they started to haunt me in my current job. i had no choice but started to adjust, i think i am now 85% punctual and 80% careful, though still not perfect.

everyone works for a reason, be it money, a mission, or a dream, or a combination of the three reasons mentioned, how lazy a person can get is probably decided on how strong his/her reason to come to work is. i reckon that some people in the government once had those reasons, but with the job being too stable and the salary being too good, (in cases of those who have an "iron bowl") , (and seriously they have been working for too long,) most reasons became weak and disappeared. that's one of the reasons why the bureaucracy is often attached with a certain sense of laziness. and obviously, everywhere there are some people who don't know why they are even where they are doing what they do.

so maybe it's a person's desire that determines his/her goal that determines his/her attitude then?

no matter what it's always useful to think about why you are here doing what you do. if you can't find a reason good enough you probably shouldn't be doing it.

last night i went to a classical concert with milo. seeing perry so conducting the orchestra and choir makes me think that being a conductor is certainly one of the coolest thing in the universe. awwww, why weren't i born with that talent?

day one

it has been work all day. my shoulders ache.

it took me forever to stop my heart from leaking. the hardest part is to sort out my feelings. and try not to fear. but relationship itself is fearful.

now those long distance days have come back to haunt me. it was emotionally exhausting. i was missing someone so much, and getting so little back. i was trying so hard to build bridges, yet i kept failing. if i look back on those days there was hardly any joy in it. only heartbreaks. so i convinced myself later to rewind to when and where it was all happy. but then i got myself totally stuck right there.

until, maybe, today. i realize that things can be different. it is possible that what could have been will never be. but he who loves me will make things happen. fate is a bridge you build to the one you love.

day zero

my world is so quiet. there are not any unread messages to reply. or phone calls to answer. not when my office desk is covered up by documents of different kinds. not when lunch was there, and not when office hours ended. the world turned silent when he was not around.

it's only 20 days, and i would have to let him go even if it meant longer. i never want to be a girl who pulls people back. maybe i do not have the power. but i'd rather wish my power to be a power that can lift someone up and help him/her fly. (it sounds very cliche-like though.) but i don't have that power yet, either.

i will always be the one who stays behind. it has ever been like this. with people, i make plans that may never happen. but i keep doing it. because it satisfies me already, being able to plan those plans and dream those dreams, surround myself with unlimited possibilities. reality does not matter to me unless it has to. the only times it matters to me are the times of sickness and death and bills amount to stacks. at other times i wander in a language beyond reality.

if i live my life upon ordinary logics, i would have gone mad already. because everything will then be too much to take.

am i a victim of my optimism? well at least my optimism prevents me from knowing it and feeling victimized.

reality inside language.

but "the purpose is to increase awareness of October Breast Cancer Awareness month."

maybe it's fun for women to make up a game and turn men crazy, providing the fact that it's for a number of undoubtedly good reasons. i know, sex sells, it attracts attention, but are there no other ways?

does it mean a woman's only and quickest way to success is to tempt men with sex? is it a good idea to be implemented on the minds of our next generations? where do you suggest your girls to put their self-respect and decency?

i simply don't feel comfortable with it.

the last five pages.

when we were taking dr. richards' creative writing course 2 years ago, we were told to buy a book titled "the first five pages", i have never read it because it was a tool book for those who wrote fiction, as for me, i wrote poetry.

there are only five pages left till i can finish eat pray love. but i stopped there. somehow i didn't want to know whether liz had found love. it was irrelevant. i felt kind of cruel, like a selfish bitch who cares only about taking what she needs, and drops the rest.

but i have the tendency to not see how things end. i would like to keep the ending open. and the journey is always more important. the medicine man in eat pray love tells liz that there are 7 levels up to heaven, and 7 levels down to hell. he says that heaven and hell are the same, they are both beautiful and lovely. the difference is how one gets there. the 7 levels up are all happy places, and the 7 levels down are all sorrowful. so bingo! it's the journey that matters. we are all going to end up the same, all you can do is to make your journey as happy as possible.

today i think to myself how dear sadness is. so even when i am sad, i am still happy. because my heart is not useless. it gets to feel a lot.

isn't me loud and annoying writing so much all day everyday? (well, not everyday. not during office hours at least.) even when i am not writing here i am still writing somewhere else, on any piece of paper i can find. i don't know what to do if i don't write. everything else will seem like a waste of time if i don't write something. i wish one day i will be good enough to be able to earn a living by simply writing a lot. :/

me alone with my words.

now i have all the time in the world to write. yet writing is always an emotional activity, sometimes i get too carried away by what my thoughts have generated onto the screen and cry like a baby.

10 months make up almost 5% of my life, comparing to the 2.5% before it's a double. pride is the greatest sin i have committed out of the seven. sometimes i wonder, would you still want me if you can have her? would you still want me if being with me means no future? what if we won't get married? what if i won't have kids? what if our time is limited (yes it is) and reality is meaningless? would you still be with me for the sake of being with me? i want you to think that inside your head i'm the best. but even if you said so i couldn't bring myself to believe it. would you go take a walk around the world just to prove it? i wish you had fallen in love with most girls in the entire universe already, so you know for sure that it's me who you want.

i remember myself holding my lover's hand thinking it would be the moment one day i would wake up missing, i could not stop the passage of time, had no idea how to stop life from changing. i can only try my best to make every moment count. if happiness serves no immortality, may misery too, be brief.

i think today's entry deserves a pretty illustration. so i tried to type in the key word "beauty" on yahoo photos search engine. the results are disappointing! i wonder how distorted people's views on beauty have become. or has it always been like this? or maybe it only proves how human beings can never be replaced by machines, no matter how smart a computer is it has no aesthetic sense.

i am not good at photography. instead of visual documentation i use mostly words. but i took this photo because i was amazed by how lovely the sunlight could be when it went through the windows onto my bed, and how much a blessing it was to wake up from beauty like that a while ago.

sleeping (and dreaming) is not so much a waste of time in my opinion. it can be one of the most transcendental experiences in one's life. :)

dear stranger,

tonight we had dinner at central. mexican food again. sitting next to our table was a western man at his 40s/50s, i am not good at telling age. i once thought a 30 year-old was 17. am i stupid? maybe.

so from time to time i caught him smiling a little smile at me. i didn't know why though. and ignored it. when he had paid his bill and was ready to leave, he approached me and asked if i could speak english, i said yes, and he said,

"i can't believe how much you have reminded me of my daughter, i am now going home to give her a call." and he smiled. and then he left.

my boyfriend said he was a strange man. but actually my heart started to build itself up with overwhelming warmth. maybe it's because i have always been a touchy-feely person. but it was so sweet. i wish there is something/someone somewhere to remind my own father of me somehow. sometimes i wonder if i'm already forgotten. i wonder if death really did us apart completely. how could something so strong become so weak?

but those are the things i will never know for sure.

so i am glad that, maybe my look, the way i laughed, or the way i dined gave someone the urge to call his own daughter and build bridges. it's a good thing. so good that it's almost beautiful.

i hope i can finish all the readings tomorrow.

on marriage

i once heard that either marriage or divorce is a form of escapism. i wonder how true is that. but in either way escapism would be the wrong reason to get married.

i have seen too many women ruined their lives by marrying the wrong kind of husbands. the kind of husbands that does not take the responsibility to act like one. the one who ignores the universal law of "men give, women receive." and becomes a taker taking everything for granted, except of course they give away their sperms for free.

i am waiting for a man who believes in his ability to make things happen. just like how i believe in my ability to make things happen for my little ones. every moment of it is hard-earned, and it can only be, but every moment like this is worthwhile to me. this is how i am spending my early 20s, and how i believe my late 20s will be spent. if only i am lucky, my 30s will then be a bit more lovely. and if the right one appears, it'd be almost perfect.

i do not mind waiting. the truth is i'd rather do it hopefully. or maybe it's wrong for me to ever want to get married.

i do not expect myself to want a different car each month, or a bigger house each year. i do not expect myself to be clothed in luxuries and jeweleries and carry around the kind of handbags that cost the salesperson's one month salary. i may want to travel around a bit, and write a lot, and take part in most art events going on, and spend some time on charity. i don't expect myself to be one of the mundane heads anymore. i hope i won't need to. i won't chase after (work for) money if i don't need to.

i don't know how unaffordable it makes me. i wish i can have a life like that on my own before i ever get married. i wish i will still have a reason to get married after i have made a life like that all on my own.

secretly i have never counted on anyone in the form of a male creature to bring me my happiness. but i'd like to fancy it a bit, the way i fancy a knight in a shimmering armor or a charming prince on a white horse. the happy everafter arriving long before my hair turns silver, my face wrinkle and my boobs sag (maybe they won't because they are too small.) and last forever.

i wish one day the man i shall love will want to marry me no matter what. obviously it's difficult now, these days. some women will even pay to get married. and some men don't mind.

awful reality.

so i didn't go.

of course it isn't so much a pleasure wasting money on air tickets without actually going to travel. but this morning my stomach started to ache at 6 something and lasted for some hours. it was too alarming. i knew it wouldn't mean well if i go. so i decided not to.

afterall it had ever been easy for me to just go somewhere without thinking too much, especially when i had already got the air tickets. so this time it's simply different. i know it. i feel it. yet it's hard to explain this constant bad feeling which had circled around my head for weeks.

and now the trip is off i am finally relaxed.

i am still tired. not knowing why. my eyes are exhausted. my shoulders are in pain. my chest is, too. maybe i really need this coming 3 days to take a good rest. do something enjoyable. (or finish the readings that i have tried to avoid for weeks and try to do some homework.)

to go or not to go?

this is the question.

i have never felt so threatened by a trip. it's like everything has come together for a demostration against the trip. this time i am really afraid of not being able to return home safely. it's just bangkok. i have been there too many times in my life. so why do i fear now? i wasn't even afraid of going to indian. i have bought two travel insurances already. just in case. if anything happens, i've at least got something for my little bro and little sis.

and suddenly i realize how small my family is since dad passed away. i prefer being the one whom other people count on because it's better than having to count on someone. independence feels good. in hong kong it's only a family of 4 now, plus my dog. my favourite elder sister is in america. sometimes i envy her courage to go somewhere so far away. ever since i was young i have always wanted to go somewhere. to learn a different culture and speak a different language. and write a different story.

i guess it's not my time yet.

i think it's what it's like to be the eldest one in a family. you place your family's needs before yourself. the greatest mission of my life is to nurture my little ones into their best beings. if something can wait, something is possibly mine for good. i don't want to rush for happiness all the time. such kind of happiness has only ever been short-lived.

let me whine. let me whine.

one of my greatest fears (among the million fears i have come to encounter) is the fear that i may eventually give every piece of me away and leave myself no choice. so everyday i tell myself to be more controlling. but nothing is ever under my control.

maybe it's time to say goodbye to europe for good. it's time to realize that i will never get there. it sounds as easy as an air ticket of $8000 only. i earn more than a double of that sum at the age of 23 but still, every month there is nothing left. i have been trained by the new me to think for hours before buying a dress. or else i would possibly regret for the old me being impulsive. but it's not really about me. i do not matter. me, myself, solely can survive on 10% of what i earn, no problem. the fact is god knows it too, and what god always likes to do is to maximize one's capacity. i am completely overloaded. i have been so for almost 2 years now. but god says no worries, there's space.

sometimes i despair. despite my usual efforts to cheer myself up and put worries aside. i wonder if anyone really understands what is going on in me. i am happy to be a useful person. it's my pleasure to be contributive. it makes me feel like a strong, tough woman. but it doesn't mean long hours of work and stacks of bills do not stress me out. yet there are so many needs to cater. i can't relax. i can't do it for real.

i hope i am not whining. but i can't not whine. i know i am depressing. but i am depressed. maybe it's hormones. or maybe it's just life.

i hate seeing someone who cares so little about money worry so much about money problems. i hate that person being me. and as a matter of fact i am not even greedy. i am ashamed of myself for not being able to live up to my guts and live my life as i wish. i hate the smothering clouds above my head, its never ending quest and waterpouring stress.

ok time for bed. another working day going to begin at 7am tomorrow. luckily it's still related to art or everyday would be suffocating.

today i saw a swan

or a goose? but it was too beautiful to be a goose. it was all white with a neck so slender, its feathers looked so smooth, and it could fly. i thought it must be a good sign. to see such a beauty at 7 something on a beautiful morning.

today i worked all day and went to school afterwards. having spent more than 15 hours out there, i am already completely exhausted on a monday. but i have to push myself. work harder. strive for excellence. i have nothing to count on but the future now. i wish my hard work will one day pay off. and finally there is a happy ever-after for myself and everyone i love.

once upon a time i had all the time in the world to fall in love; and once upon a time i had all the world to fall in love with. my boyfriend would hate me talking about it (blame it on my period, darling,) about all those crazy crushes i had, whoever used to make me feel alive. that was the time when i was able to write with beauty and delicacy. that was the time when i was busy wandering to get lost. life was so vivid and my heart was full of flowers.

yet love like those was pure, innocent and sweet. i lived in one daydream after another, reality did not matter. i worried about not being able to get married, or be loved truly, yet it was so romantic to have my heart broken for reasons so light and irrelevant to whatsoever.

i don't ask for much in life. i ask only for love, and freedom and beauty of the purest kind. what's the use of chasing after the mundane luxury? it is all vanity, or it will all end up as vanity. i wonder how the world operates happiness on consumption. it is so logically wrong.

when was the last time you smiled at the sparkling stars and felt your heart filled? autumn is here. i heard that this winter is going to be cold. not too cold, i hope.

eat, pray, love

Elizabeth Gilbert is hopping on my nerves (in a wondeful way.)

i am halfway through india now. will get to indonesia soon. how i fancy the life of Elizabeth Gilbert! having someone offered to pay her for travelling and writing... although she is 34 already. considering the fact that i am only 23, maybe there are still chances for me in the future. (i used to fancy wandering through the world to fall in love with a boy from each country and write about each love story. it now sounds like a stupid idea.)

yet it still seems to me a bit dreamy to count so much on the future. i can't do nothing now but to be patient and wait. i can only try to enjoy life as much as i can. and eat. and pray. and love. sometimes i react a bit too strongly to certain little things in life. maybe i am still not very mentally stable. i have no idea why. once upon a time i was the miss sunshine among my friends. my trick was simply to smile things away. but these days i frown too much even my eyebrows feel tired.

i used to think that one day we would look back and find most things funny. i realize now that it's not true. some things mean only heartbreaks and in these cases time does not matter.

lately i feel that i am slowly drifting away from my passions. and i seem to be doing that on purpose. i have been applying jobs that aren't quite fit my nature. people question it. i question myself, too. but life isn't always about getting what you want the most.

i want things. but needs matter more. it is like how i stood at the center of a mall tonight. i asked myself what i would like to buy. i could not think of anything indeed. except vacations. vacations. and vacations. (tomorrow will begin with the alarm clock running off at 7am again, and then work, and then school, and then me on my bed half alive completely exhausted.)

by thursday night i will be on the plane to thailand, may god bless me and allow me a safe, nice and decent trip. (for merely 3 days.) my baby will be at netherlands in 2 weeks. and then beijing. since the stupid breakup few weeks ago we have become a lovelier couple more in love. lately i looked at him and found him more handsome than i ever thought he was. how strange.

and writing helps.

because it seems to be gone now. the mysterious figure that has been haunting me for a few days. i guess it is because i wrote it out.

maybe i really am superstitious. but i still believe that it's a good thing to pick up little signs in life, as each of us is a part of the universe. we interact closely with everything. everything is here to, well, make things happen (i think i said it too many times already.)

some people try to convince others that human beings are small, and the world does not spin around one person. indeed, i think the world spins around each person. with each person being the center of the universe. we are as important as we can be, and will be.

where does that come from?

i still remember how i lost my grandaunt in march, 2009. that morning my bracelet fell apart on its own and its beads scattered everywhere. immediately i had a bad feeling. that afternoon i got the news that my grandaunt had had a horrible car accident and passed away.

i think the universe works in a mysterious way. and god is too much to be interpreted by human logics. thus, love has become my one and only faith.

don't think, just feel.

what if?

what if i am going to die soon? this thought has tingled up in me for almost 2 days or 3. the idea of my own death has built itself within me. usually i would avoid thinking this way. but what if? i know how horrible the combination of "what" and "if" can be. it will soon wear me out.

it began one night when i was on the minibus home. when the minibus passed by the sidewalk i thought i saw someone in a black capote looking at me, i couldn't see his face though. at that moment i thought it was merely the shadows of the trees. so i ignored it.

but for 2 days or 3 it seems to haunt me. maybe it's not really like haunting...? i don't know. i feel its presence few times a day. i would have named it (i tried to) like loneliness or depression, as what i read from eat pray love, but the fact is i don't feel lonely or depressed. not so strongly. i wonder if it's my angel. someone here to protect me. but what if it's someone to take me away from all my earthly love? what if?

so i panic secretly. the possibility of my own death at an age so young chills my bones. i have too much love and too much responsibility. i can't be dead yet. my brother and sister haven't graduated yet. and i haven't been able to give my mom a carefree life. my nephews are still babies. i haven't even started the pursuit of my own dreams. my friends need me. there is a boy out there who may want me as a bride. i can't leave my dog lonely. there are still pimples on my face. my hair is still short. there is too much of the worldly beauty i haven't seen yet.

today i was so tired. after something like 100 phone calls in 2 hours (non-stop) i went home and fell into sleep right away. i dreamt of my dad. told him that we should go home together, but he waved me away, telling me to go first. i woke up and tell mom about it. she said, "luckily."

i hope everything will be fine and i am just imagining signs for having been too tired. life may be exhausting right now. but i am always looking forward to all the beautiful things that may happen in the future. i wish death would stay away. and sickness, too please stay far away from us. and sadness, and madness, and lovelessness, please all stay far, far away.

because you live

have you ever once thought to yourself that you do not deserve to be loved? i guess at times we can be weak. human beings. blah, blah, blah.

i understand and believe that the ultimate goal in life is to strike a balance between every pair of binary oppositions. but most of us only fall into extremes, that's why it's ever so hard to live a balanced life. it is merely impossible. everything can be too much too easily. (even money, even love.)

my dad had a saying (yes he had quite a lot of sayings,) in chinese it's "發到唔清唔楚", if i am to translate it, it should be "too rich that everything becomes unclear." from him i have learnt that what often happens in life is how we never miss the water until it's gone as it is too easy to be overwhelmed by its "muchness" that our eyes are flooded. Thus our visions blur.

what does it have to do with not feeling like you deserve to be loved? i simply wrote 2 paragraphs of irrelevance. i think i just want to tell myself that, i love you. even when i think i don't i still do. my life evolves around you and you are the center of my universe. you make everything worthwhile, impossibilities possible simply by taking the chance to believe in something magical. i love you not because you have done good. i love you because you live, you are here, and you are always with me.

my eyelashes

i heard that the most common questions to start a conversation are

1. where are you from?
2. what do you do?

but the question that i get asked most frequently is

1. are your eyelashes real?

yes. they are real. they are possibly one of the most precious features i have, a superficial part of me that i am not shameful to be proud of. when my boyfriend caresses them i feel like i am the dearest little thing in the universe.

yet i am afraid they are no longer as lovely as they once were.

"i love you"

how many times do we try to tell someone these 3 words, 8 letters, hesitate and then retreat? i said "i love you" too many times in all kinds of manners but it still happened to me a lot. sometimes i wanted to say "i love you" but simply could not. something held me back. was i not sure of how i felt? of course not. was i afraid of not receiving an "i love you" back? that could not be true either. who says we are only allowed to love someone who loves us back? that would be ridiculous. for love to happen, someone has to be the first.

but i am superstitious. just like how i would never go to too many job interviews at once because i am afraid of scattering my good luck and the little bit of good luck everywhere could not be enough to make things happen. maybe i secretly believe that "i love you" can't be said too many times or it will become cliche-like, thus meaningless. or you wouldn't even take it as something serious.

but i love you. at 12:50am i typed the text and deleted it. although after all these months i thought i could tell you anything, sometimes my neck is still tough for no reasons.

i slept all day and did nothing.

when my eye lids couldn't help themselves, my mind told me that it was ok to sleep. it told me that whatever i wanted to get done could too be done in my dreams. so shamelessly i fell asleep. when i woke up it was already half past 9. sunday has gone.

tomorrow i will have to be extremely focused at work. there are two minutes to be done. i really hate drafting minutes. i tried every possible way to avoid it. but i can't anymore. suck it up cherry! suck it up! for salary's sake. :/

today may and i talked about our dream jobs. we are two lazy ladies working hard now. my dream is to be a fabulous art girl without money worries. but for that to happen, i still have years to wait. i want to work in something charitable (or at least helpful) that is related to art. or simply make art accessible to everybody (especially the younger generations.) i hate how people try to keep art high. it's not important for art to be high, art should be as low as possible, as long as it can nurture the hearts of people into something more decent and noble.

so many empty souls out there these days. my father used to have a saying, "my children have their hearts full." after years i have finally understood what he meant. we have been spiritually well-fed. and that's probably the most important thing for a person to live a meaningful life.

we would hit the town on friday night

and stay in bed until sunday.

last week was flooded by the mid-autumn holiday mood. this coming week will have to be a hardworking one to get all my unfinished tasks done.

had a nice dinner last night. we went to the Greek Bar in soho. the food was great. i had a lemoncello which has now become my favourite. plus a singapore sling.

leap year

in chinese we call it 閏年, a year in which there is a 29th day in february, it happens once every 4 years. the movie "leap year" says the 29th of february is the only day on which a girl can propose to a guy. and immediately he will say yes.

so the next leap year is 2012. will i get married when i have just turned 25? i will at least love the celebrations. something lovely to toast for, all night long.

千里共嬋娟

two more chick flicks for the day. it's an awful feeling having no dates on mid-autumn. i thought it would not matter. but it somehow did matter. because i have really loved this one day of a year. and it was even worse when your boyfriend asked you out twice and canceled on you once and again on that particular day. i wish he never did try to ask me out. i tried not to let it affect me but it did. maybe i am superstitious. (of course i am. i believe in luck and signs and everything magical.) and being canceled twice on mid-autumn festival gave me a bad feeling. it is supposed to be a day of union.

and who listened to all my stupid mid-autumn stories?

to autumn

season of mists and mellow fruifulness

close bosom-friend of the maturing sun

the mid-autumn is my favourite festival of a year, alongside midsummer's eve (though we only get that celebrated in shakespeare's.) not christmas, not new year, not even valentine's day or my own birthday. i would say it's the most romantic day ever, when the moon is the roundest, the brightest, and everywhere you see lanterns and candles and lights in an easy manner.

autumn is simply golden. like sunset.

oh and daddy loves mooncakes.

百歲光陰一夢蝶。每逢佳節倍思親。欲說還休，欲說還休，卻道天涼好個秋。

and all the daughters of the year shall dance.

letters to juliet.

the amazing thing about movies is that each movie is based on one philosophy, it imitates life, but it's not exactly like life. like letters to juliet, how romantic the whole thing is, and charlie is incredibly hot and handsome and funny and cute and adorable (and i am obviously acting like a teenager now.) i am surprised, having noticed that the movie believes in true love as a once in a life time thing, which is forever true and never too late. how can anyone be so sure? sometimes i wish i could live my life like that, to base my whole life on just one faith, and to have something to tell myself for sure. but i couldn't. and i don't.

i think i am not brave enough. that's why i don't just have one favourite. not just one best friend. not a religion. not one major. not one alarm clock. never a single job alone. i am way too insecured and i can't trust myself. i don't have just one dream. and i don't live in just one world. i have to have two for everything (if i can.) but it's not like having the other one as a backup. both have to be equally important.

i know it cannot go on forever. eventually it is going to tear me apart. a part of me would like to stay where i am and do what i do. because i am good at it and i love it. it makes me feel safe. i am pretty much attached to this life that i've found. did i find it? did it find me? or maybe it's a life i built. indeed, i worked so hard for it. it was nothing like a smile and a blink and magic happens. it was all hard work, and it still is.

but then there are these moments when i just simply dream away and ask myself "what if"? what if life is something bigger? my boyfriend said the pursuit of happiness is a never-ending quest. that if we are to seek we will always be able to find something better. and that will be tiring and meaningless and time-wasting and never enough. so he's happy with me. satisfied. because he knows what he wants and i am here.

the realistic part of me knows what i want. i am satisfied. all that i have prayed for when i was 17 is the life i live now. but the romantic part of me is being constantly stupid and completely insane. how many friday nights can i have? for how many times can i see the sunset? where is the bud of the bud of the tree called life?

sometimes i think to myself that i would already be lucky enough if i would be loved for how i truly am.

why do people murder relationships?

although i pretty much agree that if love doesn't end as you wish and you can't seem to move on, it seems reasonable to start hating your ex-boyfriend a little bit. so you don't, like what's said in 500 days of summer, think only of the good times and make it hard to move on.

to me, moving on is different from letting go. i don't ever want to let go. can't we keep that person and whatever that we had experienced together in life as a part of us forever? can't we smile about all that had happened and still feel happy for having once found someone who was able to stir your stomach and make all those butterflies flap wings? it was a part of my life. i spent my time on it. it is too cruel to dig it out and throw it away.

every boy i loved, or loved me (probably not many,) is considered as one of the angels who god had sent to me. although i, too, as a human being, or worse, as a woman, would hate a bit at the very beginning, for them not having made the efforts to stick around long enough for me to stop aching so much each time we broke up. but my magic to recovery involves 3 days of crying and a new eye-candy. life is too short. if i don't live now i might not be able to live anymore. although some say that true love is worth a lifetime of waiting. that's probably why i still want to get married as a virgin. for that silly little wish i still want to believe in.

but of course it is only me. my way to deal with things isn't applicable to everybody. we have different experiences in life, and not one person can understand completely what the other person is going through in his/her heart on his/her mind. as for me, it's an old story, having seen the death of my dearest troublesome old company. it was too much that it changed a lot of me towards life.

is reality really more important than happiness? one day we will all realize that none of it is ever real, except the feelings you feel. everything lies, or everything can be a lie. i'd rather be happy. if he says he loves me, he at least means it the moment he says it. in that particular frozen period of time.

shall i compare thee to a summer's day?

i have almost forgotten one of my favourites. sonnet 18 of shakespeare.


thou art more lovely and more temperate.

it will soon be mid-autumn.

this year i own a roof that allow me to see the brightest, roundest moon ever.

a nice weekend

pretty dresses and mexican food, tea in the rain, sunset afterward, and the almost full moon.

december love (for one of the sweetest girls i know.)

hello sweet stranger
my one year, eight months, seventeen days,
first date on december's last day.

it may fall, the ceiling, any minute now
so heavy, the sound of silence
weights. i could have swallowed my pride

and called you up. it would have been
your light gold darling on the highway
and my hand in yours. i'd say

it could have hurt better, your embrace
if honesty matters, smile your smile, and
break me with your arms.

it's an art thing.

like magic. like love at first sight. all those butterflies in your stomach. it's just that one thing fine arts do to your veins that boils your blood and makes you fluffy, dreamy, dramatic, ridiculous. like during a low fever or having downed 3 tequilas, the world spins, you can't walk straight but you don't care because you are happy and everywhere you turn you see beauty surrounded by a big bright sky. all stars.

it's like the first time a baby tastes sugar, and the taste stays in its blood and becomes its sweet desire. the colorful, wonderful bits. like candies.

all that glamour.

i won't know what to do if i can't be an art girl. finally i understand, my soulmate could be munch's madonna.

my eyesights have been worse lately. it's taking me longer than ever to identify which minibus to get on. :/ i should probably stay away from the computer.

lovesick melody

and so he wanted me back. and so we're trying to make it work again. and i still have no idea how to be a girlfriend. sometimes i think my writings ruined my relationships. indeed, my words carry too much pressure. they are always demanding. because they have dug a way out of my heart's deepest depth, and it must be scary to walk all the bloody way back there. some boys can't take it. it is simply too much.

boys want everything light and sweet, like a feather or a kiss. but i write love poems. or when i am sad i write long proses of agonies. i am too much of a crazy person. everything about me is too much. too much.

but what am i supposed to do? this is the only thing i am truly good at. this is the only thing to ever make me feel truly happy, like i am someone. you know, unique and complete, somehow special. and honest.

otherwise i am just a small potato in a big big world.

不在乎天長地久，只在乎風花雪月

這兩天的心情和經歷，都像是在玩過山車一樣，令本人很有年少輕狂的感覺。

失戀最怕甚麼？怕吃不下、睡不著、沒有精神上班、沒有幹勁工作、想哭但哭不出來，或是在最不適合的情況哭了出來。不過說到底，以上種種都會導致媽咪擔心，因此都是不應該的。

到底是一個本來說要與你長相廝守的人，突然有興趣和你做好朋友，還是一個本來選擇了做你好朋友的人，突然有興趣和你長相廝守比較震撼？

情況就好像跌了百七萬六合彩一樣，完全不知道為何現實可以這樣具戲劇性。

日子很快又會回到平靜，不過在這之前我還想痛痛快快地感受一下這些異樣的情感衝激。


這兩天媽咪感冒了，希望可以快些好返吧。 :(

it feels like someone has offered me a thousand kisses.

everything is so wonderful all of a sudden.

on the edge of love

she dances in stares
a step closer takes a step away
farther, the someone else invades

she sinks, with words, and sings
with wounds, signs and seals
blood in the rain,

love in the wartime bed
eyes on the silver curtain,
dreams of the baby blue

she leaves and so between
tipsy bites and cigarettes.

Dear Dad,

It has been long since our last talk. Today I am brokenhearted again. My heart and my soul contradict each other. Someone has dug a road all the way down to my bones and left. 9 months could not survive much. I think it is harder this time because it is not like he’s in Europe and I’m in HK. And it’s not like two people not loving each other. But no matter what it is like now, it is all over.

Breakup is like a disease. Everytime my friends break up with their boyfriends I get this feeling that “oh no I am next.” My instinct cannot be wrong. Maybe it’s because I can too easily relate to others’ misery. Thanks to the mistake of empathy.

I am glad that you’ve never met any of the boys I have dated. Because at the end of the day none of them really loved me, if it was true love it would have survived impossible strikes and made beautiful things happen, like how you and Mom had lasted.

So I prayed to God, for the strength to be strong and the bravery to be, again, alone. Life is too important, time too precious. I am the one to support too many. There is no way I cannot make it.

Because I have lost you already. It was the toughest lesson ever to be learnt. Yet it is ever useful, because nothing can really crush me afterwards.

On days like this I miss you very, very much.

xoxo

i can only write well

when i am too much in love, or when heartbreaks happen. i wonder why it is always so hard, to make it work or call it quit. i have waited all day today for a kiss that will never happen. i find it so romantic to the extent that it breaks my heart.

i wonder if autumn ever happens.

perfect sunday

having waited a whole day, for a kiss that will never happen.

6700 times of lightnings (the poem)

photo by celement wong



it could be the end of the world - that was
my second thought, and you, my third.

the first thought that came into mind,
was how there would be glass.

some relationships are merely destined,
they survive impossible strikes and linger on

in the form of a beautiful outcome.
and so i thought, be my lightning, my darling

the once in a lifetime chance
in 6700 times, if the world would end in such sublime.

你還愛看嗎？

看見某些電視節目長做長有，不知是應該感嘆香港觀眾質素低落，還是大眾媒體自甘墮落。尤其是看見那些積極參與此類節目的女士，不禁會疑惑，她們到底有多享受被侮辱？(或自取其辱？)

我不敢說tvb的這些節目意淫，因為可能是我本人「心邪」，才聯想到這些「衰野」。

當年受歡迎的「美x廚房」，接一句「食左先講」，一群青春少艾打扮性感，隨歌起舞，最吊詭的是她們都以食物為名，被「物化」了，喜歡吃女人的男人，那會不喜歡吃得下的女人，遺憾是這些女孩子，還有那些坐在電視旁邊的女性觀眾，毫不介意一個星期至少被吃幾次，還看得津津有味的。說真的，一樽鹽真的不值多少錢，電視內的蝦蛟燒買只想出位、出鏡，電視外的要得啖笑，不需要用腦，就最好了。

不過「美x廚房」早已是煮成熟飯的生米，甚麼浪費食物啊、意識不良啊，講了都沒人會理。

然後風繼續吹......

近期，「超級無x獎門人」出現了「壓波」遊戲，幾個人抬起一個人，把他/她的身體壓在汽球上，汽球破了就嬴...... 那些參賽的女士就那樣用自己的胸部拚命擠壓汽球。我想知，如果她們並非身處電視節目，如果曾先生不是節目主持人，而他要求她們用自己的胸部擠壓汽球，是否已構成性騷擾或非禮？是不是在公眾見證下，與眾同樂，就可以肆無忌憚、為所欲為？親愛的女讀者，如果有個(非你男友老公愛人的)男人拿一個汽球，叫你以胸部壓破它，你會否欣然接受，還七情上面表演個夠？

香港的小孩子看這些東西長大，也許證明了這個世界上沒有免費午餐，免費的都在堆填區，當午餐吃會吃壞人。(難道tvb的選址是給觀眾的警示？)

這些超級無敵的節目周而復始地上演，這個社會到底有沒有進步過？

you wouldn't know

how tired i am of myself writing about how tired i am. i hate the fact that i am always tired, but there seems to be nothing i can do about it yet, except sucking it up, swallowing it down and digesting it through writing. sometimes i thank God, for at least i love writing, it helps me cry but also stops me from crying too much.

there are some fears in my heart that chill my guts. i am so careful because i am scared. i apologize to people who aren't fair to me because i have lost the power to fight, i am sure that i have got the right, but it is too pricey.

words are my little swallows, the happy prince, too, is more than just a statue.

Fantine haunts me. Victor Hugo surly has created one of the most powerful tragic figure. it is so strong, first she has lost her hair, and then her front teeth, at last her dignity. it is only too heartbreaking that some sacrifices seem so destined. :(

my skin is bad again, probably because of the pressure from the wonders on what the future carries.

no matter how we are, or what we have, i will always narrow us down into something funny, even though i am extremely serious, i do that to make me light enough, so to wander on.

i have to admit that i don't enjoy watching FULL minibuses pass me by, especially after i have made the efforts to walk such a long way. it is wearing me out. i wish i can afford a car. i live so far away, from most things or people i love, yet it is the only good place i can afford.

maybe God is just trying to give me what i don't have, namely patience and being on time. :)

6700 times of lightning

it has been a while since i last visited LKF, still it used to be a lot more fun there. tonight i realized that Hong Kong Brew House was already closed down. i guess everything changes fast in this city. my city. i wonder if every one of my favourite places will soon disappear.

stormy weather came without notice, or was it me who was too engaged with what i was doing to notice it? and then when i got home i read from Yahoo! news that it has been 6700 times of lightning tonight. at first i wonder if it would be the end of the world. what makes god so angry? but then sincerely speaking it's a little bit too romantic. i wish my lover were here. it must be more than 6700 times now. i hope someone is counting, or something.

on the minibus i suddenly realize how i have been waiting all my life, even though i have been living like i can't wait. my waiting is somehow an endless journey. when i was a little girl i never had to wait, my parents would give me whatever i wanted. their philosophy is simple: parents should give the kids whatever they want when they are still young, as when they grow up, they will have to face a version of life that can be difficult, and by that time the memory of a fulfilled and happy childhood would be useful. indeed, at my most difficult times i would be able to tell myself how i used to have all that i wanted, and i have such strong belief in happiness as i know it surly does exist. i lived it once.

greed is not my thing, except for that extra extra extra caramel saurce on my vanilla latte. as i grow up, a mysterious voice appears inside my head, reminding me to only ask for what i really need, to my parents that voice is called understanding and decency, and to others i think that voice is named dignity.

and back to my story of having to wait so long, and longer still.

as i am very sleepy i have to finish it in short. i know it's all about waiting, although i am impatient and i grab chances and dive into things. but the truth is, there is a piece of cake that i can be the first to taste. but after one creamy bite god decides to freeze it in the fridge.

i am waiting. for things to be bright. for my youth to stop wasting itself. for a boy to know my worth (as more than he would give.)

and now i am super sleepy.

哀悼青春

我的靈魂很寂寞。

墨音說：80s, we can't stop doing something.

今天的思緒還是有點混亂，我覺得近來我在做的事情，已經慢慢令我離開了20多歲的階梯，可能因為我總是很累，而要做的「正經事」總是沒完沒了，亦也許因為我在過著正常人的生活，上班、下班，而星期六、日也沒有自己的時間，自己的時間逼不得已都用來睡覺了，因為我總是很累。

我的年少輕狂不是要去花天酒地、瘋狂跳舞，那些只是花絮，還是過眼雲煙，不過我的年少輕狂也不可能是永遠假設日子有未來，然後把一切來自青春的悸動、脈搏裡的慾望留到明天，每次當我帶著滿滿一腦子的靈思躺在床上，累得沒法爬起來寫的時候，就覺得痛苦。

我最奢侈的希望，只是在靈思湧現的時候可以靜靜的坐下來盡情也忘情地寫作。

當然，也有奢侈一點的，也就是閒來可以逛展覽、在荷里活道流連忘返，從薄扶林散步到中環，在海旁喝咖啡、看日落、看一本好書。原來我想要做的東西都不花錢，可是為甚麼我就是沒有那個精力、時間和機會...... :(

there is a difference between a daydreamer and a nightdreamer, a daydreamer makes dreams happen while a nightdreamer's dreams stay in the dark.

朋友提出想要和需要的問題, 如果一個人分不清想要和需要, 未免也就太悲哀了。

我想我想要的其實都是我需要的，曾經想要一隻戒指, 不在乎價值, 就算值$10也好, 我只需要那份浪漫以外的一份肯定，跳傘時候一個小小的落腳點; 今日我好想要一本書, 也許還想要一本畫冊, 因為我的靈魂那麼寂寞, 它需要被滋養。

我發現自己很掛念理察教授, 我青春裡最輕狂的時候, 也許就是那個寫詩等如「正經事」, 而花上小時去討論一個不存在的現實也是理所當然的時候，那樣的青春多麼美好, 可以活在當下是那麼逍遙。

但願我可以找回那些掉落的青春。