sono pazza di te

i am trying to take control of my hormones, if it is only because of hormones. i tried to put this feeling into words, but words were not enough. i am afraid that i am thinking too much, but my mind keeps spinning on its own. i have decided never to go back to be that girl again, who writes 10 e-mails a day confessing love. i dare not even reading those e-mails again, as they were childish and probably too honest, resulting in a massive sense of uncoolness.

but i am never much of a cool girl. i am the passionate and disastrous and often confused type. i am the silly, goofy and nerdy type. i am the i love you baby baby my dearest darling honey you honey me so full of cliches type. i am, i am, i am. i am also the obsessive type, not with you (hopefully) but with love (definitely).

i will learn another language, and then i will write with it. i would say sono pazza di te a thousand times, to your face even, knowing that you have no idea what it means. i will, i will, i will.

stunning photography by Sonya Kozlova, she is only 18. this world is just so full of these talented lovely women. i am 24 (yes lately i am negatively obsessed with my age), what am i going to become? i need signs.

tomorrow. to you. i will.

i have grown up watching my girlfriends’ dreamy bubbles on their future weddings. some of them even have their wedding gowns drawn out. others have thought about when and where to get married, who to invite and the budget etc.

when I was younger my thoughts on weddings would go all the way to the other world, there was absolutely nothing realistic in them, i could only think about my wedding in a castle, not knowing which castle, not even knowing if that castle exists at all. i had no idea when and where to have this wedding. i thought i’d better not plan. let’s just keep everything in the other world.

at one point in my life i vowed i would never want to get married, that i would never need a husband, and that i would stay at home with my parents because with them i had got all i would ever need, and besides, i was pretty much sure that the romance i wanted was nowhere to be found. i shocked some of my friends with my determined thoughts. that year I was 19.

last year I had a boyfriend who said he would really marry me. we talked about our future house and our future kids. my mother thought him half a son and his mother thought me half a daughter. i had never had anything so sure and so unsure at the same time.

this year i gave it all away. i think i will be better off marrying myself off in some sandals and flowery dress, with my hair loose and in my sunbathed skin. as long as i am happy i do not care, i can do it like Echo, in the sahara desert even, just like her wedding with Jose. if i am ever going to get married i am going to do it in the most random time or day and in the most random kind of way.

but of course the wedding gowns in pure white look nice. i will always miss that father-daughter dance in the wedding party. (well, i doubt if my dad would be able to dance with me in a sane way even if he was alive, he would probably just get drunk or do some indian dance moves which he was actually good at. haha)

i want to get married just once and live my life happily ever after thereafter, but i probably want to celebrate it over and over and over again. am i such a greedy person?

girl talks. wedding thoughts. in 6 years i will be 30, can you imagine? some days ago i was talking out loud in my chinese literature class that i would build a castle and marry a prince. that year i was 17.

and suddenly i am here. oh my awareness of time freaks me out.

* just in case you're my boy and you happen to be reading it (since i have no idea if you read at all - and it's not important if you do not): don't worry, we aren't getting married tomorrow. i'm not getting married anytime soon, either. it's just one of my out-of-context talks.

the cleaning lady

on friday morning a lady cleaner came to the office to vacuum as usual. when she greeted me i cheerfully said good morning, and then she looked at me for a second and said, "you are really very pretty!" at that particular moment i actually felt flowers blooming inside me. i don't know why. compliments like that are not unusual. but she looked so happy and sincere when she said that and that sort of kindness overwhelmed me.

i like these ladies. the lady at the cafe downstairs. the lady at the front desk. the lady cleaner. these ladies i like to be nice to, not because they often say i'm a pretty girl (well, i guess it is a bit relevant) but mainly because i feel easiest with them. they always give out comforting smiles and i respect them as much as they respect their jobs and more importantly, themselves and others.

my father always gave the blue collars the warmest greetings, like an extremely friendly and dramatic "good morning!" and the way he did it always made them smile. his voice was so loud and strong and full of energy. when i was younger i thought it was embarassing, but then i realised how lovely a man he was. he was actually balancing the world out.

i hate having to be so careful with those ladies in chanel or guys in suit-and-tie, if they can accept me treating them as my equal i do not mind hanging around, but some of them seem to like the idea that they are superior having their good jobs and earning their good salaries. i don't think it makes one respectable simply because one is a professional or earning a lot.

i wonder why those who get to sit in the office without sweating at all can earn a better living then those who work under the sun sweating a lot. it just doesn't seem fair. it is not fair either, that one is born to be smarter so he/she gets better grades and better offers in life, while the other one is doomed to live with less, having been born to be less intelligent (study-wise).

so i try to have my respect better allocated, respect is to be earned, and it has to be hard earned. i can be pretty biased, and i am also easier on those whose life demands more hardwork. it is only to be just. i won't look up to you because you earn a salary 10 times more than i earn each month, i will look up to you if you are still respectable despite all that.

i don't have the words.

today i had another language exchange lesson. it was fun, as everytime before. i have to push myself though, as i keep not remembering what i have learnt. (because i've hardly practiced at all.) today i learnt about hotdogs, which i think i will remember. becuase jeg elsker dansk hotdogs! james told me that there is actually a danish shop in hongkong from which i can get the hotdogs, so i have decided that i will go test my danish on the shop owner. :D!

my father's written words are still on my bookshelf. have you ever tried looking at pages of words you cannot read and you cannot move away you keep staring and staring until it almost burns your eyes the idea that you want it so bad to understand what has been written but you absolutely cannot read?

i can scream my lungs out. i am that desperate.

i wish i knew hindi. then i would have known what he had written all these years. how can i be a poetess myself without ever having read my own dad's poetry? sometimes i thought i could just hire a translator to translate them all into english or chinese, but then i found that meaningless, because me, myself, as a translator, i know how meanings would be lost. once translated those would not be his own words anymore.

maybe i should start learning hindi, too.

我不行了。

為何分手這樣困難？為何我這樣勞氣？為何他讓我這樣生氣？我到底是在氣他還是氣自己？我是不是在吹毛求疵？為何我還是對他有這麼多的要求？ 想起過去就只是想哭。如果不去想，就不會這樣傷心，現在卻好像所有受過的委屈又洶湧而至。我受不了他說還是會永遠愛我，還是對我好，這些那些令我又傷心起來了，令我開始埋怨為何一切來得這麼遲。然後我又開始氣他不爭氣。為甚麼會有15個月都填補不了的空白？為甚麼他甚至都不爭取？為甚麼他就只會在我周圍左右東拉西扯，甘心走去做悲劇裡的男主角、角落裡的傷心男人？為甚麼會有一段從一開始就打定輸數的愛情？為甚麼這段愛情充斥著那麼多的表面功夫？我們長期身處一結了冰的湖面，湖裡的世界多麼美妙都走不進去。 今天我狠狠地哭了，我答應自己這會是最後一次，我要說的話都說了，也許我們都需要一些時間去收拾心情。

this kind of kindness is so evil.

the worst kind of bad people is those who think they are doing good. and they live in such overwhelming of kindness around them that it makes other people feel evil hating them. we feel that something is wrong. but we can't pick on them. because, oh afterall they are just being kind. why are you so picky? we ask ourselves.

but some people only do certain things to make themselves feel good, and make it look like they are doing good to others as well. unfortunately they also believe in their own goodness.

why am i annoyed? maybe it's because for those 15 months he never paid much attention to my dad. i bet he didn't even know his deathday or birthday, if he did he would have done something? but why do something now after we have officially ended. why now? i don't feel good about it. my dad is not something to make him feel good.

he never even listened on those days when i said i missed him badly. when i talked about him he would start talking about something else and asked me not to think about my own dad. yes he really did that. and i stopped talking eventually.

i have never liked his kind of kindness. i cannot be kind in his way. i cannot go around making life easier for those who have already been living a easy life. if they don't treasure what they have, they do not deserve my help either. my compassion is limited. i cannot even be friends with those whose values i cannot approve of. it gives me anger listening to shallow people's shallow talks. but he has the most fun with people like that.

he shouldn't even want me.

my parents are saints to me. it is too late to befriend my dad indeed. i am cruel now, because it is cruel to be kind. i don't lead people on. my soul is happy now. and i will never let it go back to where it had been.

the barbie porn and the angel of death

i read an article on how someone tried to make a lesbian porn with 2 barbies. at first she tried to place the black barbie on top, and realised that it would not work, because some people could get the idea that the black was the brutal one while the white was the innocent one being seduced. so she tried placing the white barbie on top, it would not work either, because she started to worry about people getting the idea that the white was superior over the black.

there was simply no way out. no matter how it looks like people will still get an unintended idea.

and then i read something about the serial-killers. there is a type of serial-killers named the angel of death (because they work in the healthcare sector, usually as nurses or doctors,) under this category there are 3 types of killers: the mercy killer who believes that he/she is helping the victims by killing them, the sadistic killer who simply enjoys exerting power over the helpless ones, and the 3rd one which i find especially interesting - the malignant hero.

the malignant hero first endangers the victims and then goes on to save them, simply because he/she wants to make himself/herself a heroic figure. and this is how he/she does it: he/she poisons the patient, and leaves the room, and rushes back again just to show the world how selfless he/she is to have made such great efforts saving a hopeless patient.

it seems so pathetic, isn't it.

but what seems more pathetic is that i can actually see many malignant heroes here in our society. someone always gets a bigger share of the pie, and gives a tiny bit out naming it after "charity". have it ever occurred to them that if they only take what they need and not what they want at the first place, their "charity" is not even necessary?

but of course they have no idea. most of them don't even know the difference between "need" and "want". this is where everything goes wrong - that some people have unlimited wants.


my wisdom is as scorned as chaos.
what is my nothingness
to the stupor that awaits you? - arthur rimbaud


now i have to thank milo for having brought rimbaud to me. :)