"today i sit here and copy my heart."

i waited all day yesterday, patiently. i got the pen and papers ready.
i planned to rush home after work, have dinner, take a shower.
when i reached home i cleared out some space on my messy desk,
and have the stationery well placed, letterheads pressed straight.
i took out my favourite long dress, i got it this late summer.
it is too long for me to go out with, but long enough for me to feel safe in.
i thought of sitting by the desk in the twilight, beginning the oldest form of love ritual --
writing a loveletter. i had the first sentence well composed,
"today i sit here and copy my heart."

but after shower, the plan failed.
the poetess disappeared. i felt tired, going to bed without falling asleep.
when i was concious again it was already eight in the morning.
i thought i would do it tonight, i thought
i would rush home and have dinner,
and shower.
but it was suddenly rainy and cold,
and i forgot the pens and papers at work.

i should have worn my least liked shoes.

so the rain does not get its hands on my most loved ones,

and have them ruined.

我們是最趕的人。

我們也是最不趕的人。
今晚公司慶功宴，坐在幾位前輩之間，聽他們懷緬往惜，
如何如何，小時候放學就奔回家裡，扭開收音機，
如何如何，守候一張唱片面世。
我也曾經趕忙過，感覺像等不了下課，
立刻就要去唱片鋪買唱片，
買了也趕不及回家去播，
先拆了封膠，路上邊走邊看歌詞也好。
多少年沒有那樣著迷過？
那份熱情還真可愛。
現在我沒有甚麼趕不趕了，因為有了youtube，
因為可以google，甚麼都不用再趕。
現在趕東趕西是趕工作，也趕著去會我親愛的。

香港人是最趕的人，因為我們趕著超前，
別人休息的時間，我們用來加班。

但我們也是最不趕的人，
也許都趕，
但趕頭趕命都趕不及準時上班、下班。

今天晚上，有個老前輩唱《東方之珠》，
我還感動得很。
多少年了，東方之珠，我的愛人。

還有陳百強，還有鄧麗君，還有還有，很多很多。
聽到舊歌才懂得震撼，詞填得那麼好，
新人其實真的不及舊人。

從何時開始，我覺得：愈老套愈有型。
我總是發現自己活得很脫節，那麼留戀
逝去的美好。陳舊成了品味。只有在逝去的空間裡，
生活才慢得下來，不用趕了。

長夜空虛使我懷舊事

幾百年前的畫，幾十年前的歌。
幾百年前的詩，幾十年前的戲。

造句

我很愛一個丹麥人。

有一個丹麥人

很

愛

我

。

nothing to envy

i went through the 292 pages in fear. but what i had to go through were merely words composing stories of people i don't know. the frightening part is that those stories were lived by real people, and those people are not living far. the distance between me in hongkong and people in north korea are not that great in terms of time and geographical difference, and that is what freaks me out the most.

forgive my ignorance, but if it were africa, i might still think it were a bit far from me. and if it happened in the 19th century, or even the early 20th century, i could consider it a part of history. you know there is injustice sometimes and most-where, and most of us are too focused on our own lives to care. but getting to know north korea in the 90s and even the present is like taking a sneak peek at a murder happening next door.

the unusual silence behind that closed door has become so loud and noisy that you are no longer able to pretend nothing is happening. on a side note, i reckon that what has made the system stand would be the manipulation of fear among the people. paulo coelho is right in one of his books, "the devil and miss prym" --

if you want to control someone, all you have to do is to make them feel afraid.

any man has his hell within easy reach, and that's his love for his family.

at first it was for the fear that without this god-like fatherly ruler, they would have been dead for long. and then it was for the fear of the evil capitalism, and the enemies it created. and then it was for the fear of not being able to get into the party, or the fear of being placed at the lowest of the system, and being kept away from all privileges. and then it was for the fear of getting arrested, beaten, sent to labor camp, being kept away from family and friends, or being killed, or even worse, being executed in public.

but when the circumstances get harder, people fear less. the more you have to lose the more you have to fear. undoubtedly a tough case -- there is always something to lose, something larger than life that you think you'd rather suffer or die than lose.

self-portraits

they say it's better to find a boyfriend who loves photograph, so all you do is to smile, and he will take charge of the photo-taking.

my mom is into photography. she took loads of photos of my dad, and when we were little. i guess she thinks it helps her remember moments in life. i am glad that she likes taking photos, her habit has become stacks of photo albums at home. some of the memories long lost in my mind, she has helped to keep record of.

but now i am old and the age is digital. now when we take photographs they are seldom candid, instead they are staged, and we pose. standard face, standard smile. most of my photographs are simply uncool.

luckily i have a little sister, who is generous enough to help me take photos sometimes, (considering how troublesome i can be when it comes to photo-taking, i am never quite satisfied with how i look...) when i feel pretty enough to want to be remembered, or when i want a photo sent to my boyfriend. but most of the time i take my own photos, in my own room.

it may sound a bit pathetic. but my boyfriend is not into photography, and the camera doesn't really love me. it is just extremely difficult to get a photo of a good scenery with me looking good in it. occasionally my mom takes photos of me with her phone camera, but most of the time it is just me and my own existence. no one is bothered enough to capture anything. maybe it's the same with everyone else.

sometimes i am afraid that one day i may wake up to be 70, and i don't have any photos of the young me looking pretty. it will feel so lonely when my memories become my only and very own private access to my past. 

but i am not the only one to do these self-portraits. andy warhol did it, van gogh did, too, and durer was a big fan of it. even when it is not about depicting how the artist looks like, it is still about expressing how the artist feels like. that's why i am here blogging, and when i am not here i am still writing, sometimes a poem, sometimes a letter, sometimes a novella, and sometimes whatever. it may be because of self-love, but it is not entirely that i think, it is also about getting a grip of my own existence. 

otherwise life will pass by without much left. since i was little i have been afraid of how fast life passes lives by. it is almost too fast for us to live.

美人魚之夢

昨天下午睡了個午覺，夢中遇見位位都是美人魚。
人身魚尾，還懂得站立，還漂亮得很。

周公解夢：夢見美人魚象徵愛情甜蜜。

其實近這一年半載以來，都已經甜蜜得過了火。
有時想起三年前的相處，還真驚訝今天竟然如此。
誰會想到呢？我曾經還以為我們一別就一世了。
還記得有天捲縮在沙發上哭得很淒涼，那時連媽媽都拿我沒辦法。

自從認識他之後，無論過了多久，心裡浮沉的一直是要見面的念頭。
初相識、男朋友、舊情人，好朋友，又男朋友。

我只想一直回到他的身邊，那樣的話，所有的等待都值得了。

真愛離不開。

sometimes i forget.

sometimes i forget about things. 

things like who i am, where i am, why i am who and what i am, my own name, and my connection to other people. in these moments of blankness i feel myself out of context. 

i am not sure if this feeling is normal. 

it feels like i am suddenly where i am, and i cannot relate to my surroundings. 

昨夜煙花多璀璨

終於人為煙花亡。

難道萬里晴空不好看，
寧看滿天星光披煙裳？

八時多撞船，九時煙花放，
多少生命，一夜殞落，

還有甚麼可喜可賀？


好一回傷城記，慶了一個城的傷。

船都沉了，孩子在海裡掙扎，
那煙花在上空燒得正旺，
撒了漫天漫地的鹽巴─

諷刺得令人雞皮疙瘩的一幕，

想起都覺得痛。