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？