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...