Therapeutic moments of grumbling...

writing... a channel to vent everything out... to speak the clearest of what's in my mind and yet I know confidently that nobody would mind... As I am so insignificant...However, I am infamous to the extend of being the populer geek that is bad mouthed by people and yet I felt blessed as no swords of such stabbed me in front... It is better to be ignorant of all these... And they would not be too bothered to search for me on this 'line'... as I am neither too irritating (a thorn in the flesh), nor having any major reasons for people to dislike me that much... as I did nothing to them... I shout my thoughts but they are all just about me... I don't spread rumours... I don't have cliques...I am just noticeable enough when i wanted to be noticed... and the only reason that people find me bothersome is the way i studied... hehe... no harm in that... but it is still the topic of conversation if ever they are talking about me... So I am glad... though all they thought i do the whole day is study, study and study.... I played hard too...only the ones close enough to me know... I am glad... that label of being harmless and totally studious, without any other interest except books entertained me...
What is the meaning of being un-studious and fun and all... Most of the time what they do is just hanging around doing nothing or sleeping which they find much more interesting than being able to savour books? lol...pathetic indeed... cause their sedentary statuses in the 'book of many faces' will be 'so tired, feel like doing nothing', 'or *feeling grateful* am able to wake up late because it is the weekends' or '*feeling blessed* I did nothing today'... lol, so called cool and extrovert things to do...lol....

Agree~~

请远离不舍得为你花钱的男人，一个男人不舍得为你花钱，别指望他以后赚钱会给你，这类人都是极度自私的，小气的男人同小心眼的男人同样可怕，跟这样的人在一起，没有你好日子过。

All kena~ lolz~


and he admitted that he is red....

 and so it is a good ending~

True but...

the feelings I had was genuine..
even though the stabs of wound are there... love is there...
but love will be there reserved in the deepest place...
no actions, no words... nothing could touch it...
the purest of mine will be hidden..
cause I knew I had loved with all my might...
and that I have no regrets...
and that one day the person who would regret is definitely not me,who indeed do cherish the togetherness...
and that some day someone will regret the immature way of ending things...
and that is the weakness that someone will carry throughout the whole life...
as it is in the blood... the immature ability to handle things...
and the illusion that relationships are a bed of roses and there shouldn't be any thorns at all...
and that would be the life he choose... a practical one where 'use' and 'to be used' are the only principles that guide his survival...
And I, with such experience, know that despite my heart felt emotions, 'use' and 'to be used' isn't in my context...

and that 'to love' and 'to be loved', to tolerate, to sacrifice, to willingly give  sincere devotion, to guide each other,to enlighten, to brave the ugly torments together, and yet still be able to stay in love, to receive both happiness, anger, sadness with acceptance that those are part and parcel of life are the principles I hold... that is the understanding and preparation that should have been considered before taking someone seriously as a life partner... 

or are the insights of the opposite in this human world are always in terms of 'to use' and 'to be used' context?

偶然发现《纸月亮》-Wau Bulan

Google宇中新专辑里的歌，纸月亮。。。不小心让我发现到，它竟然也是一部本地电影里的插曲。。。觉得影名很特别（得了奖）。。。所以就去读它的synopsis， 也读了一些介绍影片里一些细节的分享。。。 有点被这些采于其中的对话打动。。。有点感触。。。

“我现在背对着你，你还记得我的样子吗？”
　　“记得”
　　“一年之后？”
　　“记得”
　　“十年之后？”
　　“记得”
　　“那一辈子呢”
　　“一辈子也忘不了”

说来容易做来难，纸月亮，经不起风浪~

one more challenge...

Toughen up...
things are meant to be...
the downs first before the ups...
the sentiments...
all are but in a flicker...
no roses...
no violets...
no sunflowers...
just a heart...
which must be as pure as the lily petals...

Hug

I just need a true hug...
Is it that difficult...
I thought it is simple...
But you made it so difficult...
Much more difficult than climbing the highest and most treacherous peak...
Much more difficult than crossing  the quicksand area...

I need you to open your heart as how I had opened mine...
Yet, somehow you realised that you can't and never could accept me...
as a whole... a person with plasters, scars, and cracks...
 with ugly stitches and bruises...
I am different yet similar to you...
you have scars and bruise too... and yet I do embraced them as how I had accepted you as a whole...

I was patiently waiting for your presence...
amidst the hustle and bustle...
yet you grew further, swept by the crowd...
lost in the 'workload'...
I accompanied you in the crowd...
but I only have blurred glimpses of you...
and it was the only time i could see you... in the crowd...
it was never about both of us...
it was always us, them, they, others, everyone in the group...
and none of only us...

then you left...
saying you don't have time for us...
only us...
but you always have time for everyone...

the moments had became a performance...
merry cocktail parties...
with warm people...
with warm conversations...
and mine a teary heart...
then it became a really marvelous thing that you were able to spend even just a minute with me...
the laughable 'wonderful moment' that even friends are capable of offering much more than that...
 it was unbearable, and it is unbearable now...
 that is why i write...
i do not care the tom, dick and harry who visit my post...
but i do know that you would never care to read this... as you are never curious of its presence...
I became weak as you drain the smiles from me...

Now I am even more broken, though I am patching myself up...
I know life has to go on... Just that i do not understand why...
why your sincerity was gone in a flash...
I know not of this side that you covered...not covered but portrayed at such times...
your childish and lamest excuses...
all these... while I thought a matured figure you are...
but...
it is also my misjudgements that you were my forever...
I just realised now that whenever I was with you, I was actually just alone...
alone in the moments that i thought was for two...
What am I all this while to you?
An ornament of pride?

Why did I not see the signs....
Bravo to me... I hit rock bottom in this area...
But I know time will heal me...
time... time is always comforting...
it dries the cracks and holes that are wet... never fails to do so...
i thought you were much better than this...
I have too much confidence in you...
that is why i hit the rocks so hard... the cuts are deeper than ever...
so deep that you could see the bones...
the cracks in the bones as well...
yet i will live better now though it is still unbearable...
however the unbearable goes only as bad as writing it out... not worst...
it is the venting of you out of my life...
the anger and disappointment that you are just a man... walking by...
with the shadow of a toddler crawling on the ground... passed me... 

Howdy life?

to run into another wave just as the race to the shore ended...
why others could calm and sway with tides...
and that I could never close my eyes for even a moment...

people who slogged, people who do not...
the latter succeed at the right moment...
as smart is what they aim for...
the best at show...
that reveals not those that are beyond skin deep...

why is that life is so,
that holding on is just another tiring grip...
that loosens as you loosens...
and that would never be grateful for your persistent past...
and which it snap at the very first fly that landed...
that flown through the evening mist unaware of the jaws of ticking time..
and there it went within seconds...
all is well for time...

so the grip as though it never exist...
there it was holding on to the newest blossom...
and there you are falling as light as a petal blwon by wind in slow motion...
drifting to the ground...
where sunshine moves further and further out of sight...
the dark ground is where the vision lies...
waiting for the next revenge in years to come..
when the first shoot releases its veryfirst leaves...

fading...

eyes blurred as both start to see...
air is transparent..
it allows us to see reality as it is...
transparency - the thing which keeps us alive...
once a upon a time only trees which drives this transparant spirit kept us alive...
now people creates solids which create illusion..
art - something to capture permanence out of the impermanence but yet it also creates illusion...
indulgence in the illusion of permanence...
fading..things
fading with time...
stones erode...

un - equilibrium

Change... things changes... people grow...
as how the forest fire did to the woods...
that is how it is to the grassroots...
the burned down trees...
the near barren trunk...
the grips of vines and creepers...
buds of new plants eager...
to share the sun...
to provide a new shelter...
the pests... burned....
the rabbits burned....
the squirrels burned...
the deer burned...
and all the inhabitants burned...
some came out alive in burrows so deep,
the tongues of the fire can't lick...
there is a time were it would always come...
a realisation...
of something big...
of something that is beyond the comfort zone...
something tha could or might stop oppression...
yet, care must be taken... for ignorance is also eating the society away...
ignorance... as what become of the top most in the rat race...
as what the world will be...
the freedom should be optimal...
not more not less...
that justice should be optimal...
not more not less...
and when  the optimal rule is set...
there will be not more not less dissatisfaction...
not more not less contentment...
and when not more not less exist...
that is when people wanted more,
and that is when people had fallen less...
and that more or less do count in the
disruption of the equilibrium...
let the race this time be more or less equallized for both...
for the country and the people...
so that more or less people are born in peaceand harmony...
more or less 'un- ignorant'...
that more or less is a measure for contented people,
that more or less means nothing to the greeds...

missing the stroll~

The pair of shoes... speckless as it is...
arranged neatly on rack... waiting for dust to fall~
it has been a long time, time to gallop like wild horses in the great piece of open area...
run free in that unknown meadow...
where no man has ever reached...

the evenings are filled with sore... as flares sharpen the tar road as hot as the burning metal rod...
evening strolls are rare now... with so many walls around...
so many cold pavements...
there are no more chilling winds...
no more fenceless space...
it seems like a cell...
the horse lives in the cubicle cell...
its muscles wasting away the time...
the brittle bones...
a knock will bring it crushing down...
yet the greens....
the ever inviting greenery... that sprout wild in that meadow...
it looks desirable... a sign of home... a pang of home - sickness...
no, what it has just stared at is a tourism advertisement pasted on the forgotten lamp post across the road...
the edges rustle in the wind...
desiring... the freedom...

I hate green~

I hate your presence flashing, but you are not anywhere...
I hate the fact that lies or not... the smile is still there...

Whatever comes...

Eyes swollen as the beady bull frog's...
those are natural, but mine a condition...
staring into the world of artificiality makes the sight blind...
blind to the real world...
all pursuits are in the crystal ball...
watched by them damned witch...
cursed in crow blood..
cries that are more throaty and croaky than ill omen...

where tides are high, the horses fly...
as i said in one of my previous post,
one which I could recall not the exact date...
foams and froths spewing not from their mouths, but from their insisting confrontation...
a confrontation that never won...
as the battle of the land ends right at the curls of the toning down waves...
they run but they do not belong to the land...
they wonder...
everywhere throughout the sea...
searching for a land that they could land...
resting their dampen hoofs...
a taste of definite settlement...
yet, not I a condition...
I really dislike being conditioned...
yet now circumstances have it...
a sweet regret...
of leaving behind the curls of waves...
the tired horse lies on its side...
thinking...
its mouth chewed the metal stuck uncomfortably there, jus right a the sppot where smiles are forced out of pain...
of leathery ropes, or are they even called ropes... cling so every tightly to the head...
a desire to turn the eyes towards the curl of waves...

becoming a part of the sea...

Nowadays, whenever I come to this little corner of mine, I will always paint my wall blue... blues fill up ever little corner... Has my blues being conditioned? perhaps...

I am with blood that runs the essence of blue...
the drops that though transparent will fall into the pool of blue sea... becoming part of the blue ocean, yet not quite blue when scooped up, cupped in both hands... it is clear and colourless, changing, adapting to the colour of its background... I yet I never really leave the blues behind... it is always tailing... tailing the fluid in me... blue veins filled the things that are not to be seen from the outer skin...

What lies...
what drips blue? it is trickling from me... is it an endless draining? or should I put a stop to it...
I love the blues too dearly, though it tore and clawed me so... I know the price will need to be paid in the end...

I shall see someday... at the crossroads... of what lies behind... the bushes with tulips or a field of buttercups that are so very common even on roads ahead...

我幸福吗？

一直想问自己这问题。。。
在回忆里找寻找着思念。。。
挖了许久， 说服力真的快没了。。。

忙，最令人厌恨的理由。。。避也避不开。。。
人生就是如此。。。
从未尝试青年般的疯狂，认真许久，得到的也只不过如此。。。
将来也必定是如此吧。。。
我的世界就和现实相依为命。。。（现实也不置于染上拜财之毒）
但就从没能期望现实能怎么天真，怎么自在。。。怎么浪漫。。。
只能苦笑，今世只能做一直认真着的人。。。
期待？莫想有。。。

建立许久的围墙，虽透不过气来，却怎么撕也撕不下。。。
铁已磨成针，捡回了，也不能把它修成铁棍。。。

二月的到来。。。新年也快到了。。。又要老一岁了。。。
我成熟了吗？

Paranoid...

The doors were wide open... When I was not there...
They were always closed when I am there...
Glass buds in delicate blue, green.. I see red when the doors were opened...
Am I a paranoid?
What are that which related to doors being opened...
Are there footsteps a while ago... petty ones, not of the fairies, goblins and what not creatures?
Not even solid paws of domestic pets, but real gentle pretty toes, washed and polished much, like the foot which wore glass heels, which I knew nothing of...
What is there to lose, that I have tried throwing myself into the well which is so tiny that my leg was stuck... pulled out, unsatisfactory result... with green slimy moss cling to the nails...

Is there not any time spared... No time for me to heave a breath of silent contentment...
in this mad and changing world...
What is there to hide actually...
I knew not from the anglic features of the stone statue...

People who play with wolves...

I used to hear about wolves of once upon a time... Their howls called the devils, razor sharp fangs that thirst for flesh and blood... The sickly yellowish eyeballs which rolled out menacing stares when when you are on the ground, defenceless... The end is near when you encounter this creature, as bastard as those born from hell fire...

A fall in time crashed those harrowing periods... Wolves are cataloged in the rational cataloging -  canines, carnivorous, hunts all tiny in flesh and blood unless desperately had tasted human blood, warm - blooded animals... etcetera~ there are not only a single profile of wolves... there are the 'loyal breeds' whom I deemed as menace as their anchestors (rarey encounter or highly endangered or might be extinct); there are the 'newly found breeds' whom the scientists have actively pursuit with tags and sringes that catch and pounch on those creatures without even a scratch mark on them, unless highly intimidated revert to old ways, but not that long, not that fearsome; and the last, the 'cross breeds' the ones whom people yelled 'mad dogs!!!' at, those that have send people straight into the hospital when their teeth sink deep into the flesh, rabies - the microscopic virus ironically, not the wolf that kills... Small unseen tiny creatures that lurked... It is worse, as a view from a microscope look like helpless single cell tissues that roam helplessly in bodily fluid...


Tenderly, I stroke a wolf... an old bite mark on my wrist still visible... I lived... no, I do not get infected by rabies... not all wolves are bad, it is the seemly tiny and harmless mites that you must be aware of...

Everlasting...

four seasons shed their jackets yearly...
they make joy, liveliness, resentment, sorrow, and wounds from time to time...
as much as there are tears from the eyes, there are smiley wrinkles all around...
things are such that we cannot control, thus we go with the flow of time where it brings us towards reunions and farewells, from banks to banks where tide lapped just at the right time...
the curving of a river...
starts and has always been that...
a cruise down the river breather a different view with every paddle...
a sign of rejuvenating the sights that calms contentment...
sometimes we are being swept too fast into the rapids, or there were attractive fishes in the water, catching our attention, and we lost sight of the difference at the banks...
the leaves rustling indifference... and we close our minds to the familiar and the readily available...
opening up to newer things which are in narrower cracks...
That is how things go from life to life...

The Time comes... and goes...

Into the second week of studying in this tucked away institution... A gate that surrounds and closes up the boundaries that had reached out.... vines were chopped... The blooming flowers gone... It is summer now, spring is long gone...

What do I expect, not a streak of rainbows over my head, nor a lark perching on the lamp post outside the window. Wind is different, much warmer... But the skies are blues there....
There are more winds to ride on...

As much as there are daisies in my mind, there are none here in fact... the fact that soil matters....
Saw hibiscus instead...
 I should probably lok for casuarina tress soon.. miss those would be pine cones... tiny as they are might....

The year lays ahead a path of familiar shrubs but unknown encounters....