all those

hugs and kisses and missing
make us lovers at most, or simply puppies.

there is so much more in a relationship.

once upon a time i thought we were able to talk
a lot, about everything. when i was most depressed
and when he was most depressed
we would be there for each other
keeping our hearts open to share whatever.

but that was just me. and he only happened to be there
and it happened that he happened to care about me enough to listen a bit
to my meaningless talks and silly agony.

i guess that was all. out of all things in the universe
i want us the most. but i have no idea how to behave around him anymore.
maybe my magic failed. maybe our magic failed.

maybe all i needed from us was that courage to stop being stuck in something i did not want.
maybe he was the little window i needed for my escape.

i have learnt to be independent again and appreciate the world now
without worrying about having to place a boyfriend before everything.

and i can write a lot about everything now,
without worrying that someone may get hurt.

i love life. life loves me.

it doesn't matter that i am unhappy, it won't be long before i am happy again.
i don't mind at all as everything i need is within me.
my happiness is mine. i am the giver and taker of it.

his laughter in the house

this morning i heard dad's laughter in the house, it struck my heart for a real tough moment. i recognised his laughter right away. it was so easy. still too familiar. it turned out that mom has put on the video of their indian trip.

thanks to technology. :) and thanks to mom's dedication in documenting their trip in india, now we can still see dad putting on his socks, his shoes and his glasses. we can still hear him joking about the old things in the old ways, and his unique ways of expression.

*sigh* i miss my old man! damn much. i am still living with the thought that we will meet again, that this is not the end and this parting won't be forever.

it truly has made me a stronger person, after having lost someone so dear and having suffered helplessly for his sufferings and lost him like that i now know that there is no way i cannot make it. this whole experience has flipped my inside over, dug every part of me out and threw everything back in. i know now to what degree certain things can hurt me because this unfortunate event has helped me set a bottomline.

eight five too is missing four and five

boring! boring! boring! the hell of a hong kong misses denmark tonight, most nights, everynight. the way it snowed a bit, the winds that skipped heartbeats, the hotdogs on the streets. cold, cold copenhagen, colorful houses, ridiculous victorians. dreams, dreams, cuddly sweet, the morning taste of fresh honey. i hug you my favourite kiss. days were golden, filled with peace and hygge and fingertips. hong kong wants to kiss him all night long tonight, most nights, everynight. the hell of a hong kong could hear denmark mock. i miss you hardly. it happened once it could happen twice. hong kong is a stupid girl tonight, most nights, everynight, insecurity robs her spikes. their every little thing, the hot the crowded the starry nights, the drinks the cinemas the long long walks, all remembered right. hong kong wears its ring, hold it tight, keep it slight, as if it is there as all there is as all, as if we just might.

life is a breeze

the weather was so nice this morning i could not help but slowed down my steps to feel it. i live a bit far away from the city centers, but i surly do not want to live among crowded bulildings anymore. i love this walk (though sometims a rushy run) downhill to the minibus stop every morning, especially during summer's eve, the trees and the sky and the birds and the sunbeams and the shadows and the breeze all come together to form one pretty picture i cannot get enough of.

dreams have deprived me of sleep last night. it was miserable being trapped in between dreams and awakenings. that was how the i-dream-to-make-sleep-boring thingy backfired.

easter holidays came and left. here comes a loaded week for me again. sometimes i am impressed by my own capabilities. if i were a bit stronger physically (or if i were a boy), i would be able to do even more. but i think i have managed to do well, even when i am this small.

today i have come to decide that the more invisible the future seems, the braver i will be; the tougher life becomes, the stronger i will live; the greyer the days look, the more i will treasure just everything and everyone around me, and most importantly, the more able i am, the more love i will give.

my mother has this magical power to ease people's hearts. being with her is like being settled slowly down to the bottom of the sea, in which everything is restored to peace. she makes people feel secured. (also because she always remember to keep mouths well-fed i reckon, haha!) i think i have got this little gift from her, though not as great, i am glad that i am able to be positive and offer people the comfort they need from time to time.

i feel it more strongly each day that i have got the best friends and families one can possibly get. i cannot whine about life anymore. it surly is fun going to new places meeting all sorts of new people, but it is also good here. maybe i tend to be stuck in my own small world, but i am happy in it, i feel content because everything and everyone around me is wonderful.

spiritually i feel so fulfilled. if i dare asking for more now, it will only make me too greedy. let's just work hard for what we may or may not have, and make it a journey rewarding despite its end. :)


p.s. i do feel like i need a bathtub desk one day. it looks so totally mine!

the honeycomb diary

i live like a bee. so hardworking
so sincere. i circle my way in a
hexagonal way, leaving stains
with my footsteps, darkening its shade.

you've got to be pretty crazy in love
to be waxing around like this, and to crawl along
in all that honey, ticklish sweet –
it grows sticky around my feet.

everything i have is flowery, everything
in here. the dresses i come with
and the busy building buzzing budding bees
honey comb you, as i comb me.




abstract painting titled "autumn honey" by brent godfrey

walking the talk

some people talk the talk, while some people walk the walk. it is an one-in-a-million chance to be able to find someone who actually talk the walk and walk the talk. due to the fact that you can't always have the best of both worlds, you'd probably prefer the walk-the-walk type of people to spend your life with, because, after all, talk is cheap. who doesn't know how to talk? if you value your words you can sense even their weight so heavy on your tongue, you won't let them out so easily.

oh that's probably just half true. everybody knows how to talk. but a talk is never just words put together forming sentences. i think those who think love is not about what you say but what you do have never heard of the "speech-act theory". - which explains how talking the talk means walking the walk. this world is constructed with language itself, and it alone for a major portion. nothing can come together if everyone just walks their walks in silence. talks shorten procedures and speed things up, under the circumstances that you know what you are talking about. (otherwise talks would still be cheap and cheesy.)

with the right people i am the unstoppable kind of talker, but i also have the tendency to think too fast and too far that i do not even have time to organise my thoughts before they have to be said. i especially know how talks can build things up and destroy all at once. words are powerful. if romeo had not the words juliet would not have fallen for him and they probably would not have died the way they did. i always want to make sure that i have done enough talking with the people i really care about.

i think there is this thing about coming back here to write a lot all the time. last night i chatted with milo and she mentioned how paulo coelho has turned himself from a torch to a fire. it gave me bingo eyes. a part of me thinks i have been setting myself on fire, too.

but through writing i figure things out, and since i know that these written words can somehow be read, it makes me a more serious thinker. i can write everywhere i want, on the back of receipts, on leaflets, on tissues even, and sometimes when i do not have a pen or pencil i text myself with my own mobile. but this is where motivates me to gather all those pieces and turn them into something readable, and it makes me especially happy when sometimes, some people find their way to make torches out of this little fire. :)



i was alive when you were right here by my side
oh we both could see i needed you, you needed me





photography by sarah rhoads. what if it rains on your wedding day?

one day

i keep remembering things still. and today's flashback turns out to be this one day, i got home from work, and i found him hidden in the balcony when i was just about to start whining to my mom about how he was always busy. i got so shocked and stormed back into my room. i locked the door, claiming that i would never come out. but of course i eventually did.

he was laughing his lungs out.

i wrapped our good times up and kept them somewhere so they would not be seen, because i cannot take anything anymore. it simply has been too much for me.

we certainly had our moments, and those moments were certainly good. but somehow they do not add up.