冰上的世界

脑海中还在旋转

望着你慢慢忘记你

the irony of those song lyrics i love so much. crooning lyrics of forgetting a certain past. a certain memory of a past that is about to be forgotten. but it is there. written down. locked into a melody forever. telling you that you will never forget no matter how hard you try and don't try.

i think about people all the time. people who were once here with me. people who made an imprint in my life. i think about how i could have made a mark in their lives. i think about how i could have made their lives different. changed it for the better. and most of all, i think about whether they think about me the same way i think about them. whether they miss me. whether they would miss me. i think about whether they would come for my funeral. will they cry? what will they think. how will i die. what will they miss most about me when i die.

the truth is i never stop remembering the people and places and things and events that mattered to me. the memories are as fresh as they were yesterday. i have this talent of recalling memories from the depths of my heart. memories that i never even knew existed. just by catching a whiff of a familiar scent. or a familiar old place. or even a setting that is similar to a setting that i've been to. memories are pulled out from the depths of my heart and mind and it plays in my mind's eye. sometimes i don't even know if those memories are true because they are too clear.

there's a weakness in me. that weakness is the strength that i exert onto myself. of letting the people that mattered to me walk away from my life. the strength that holds me back from preventing them from walking away. the strength that tells me it's for the better. the strength that seems to be chivalry and self-sacrifice. but that strength is my greatest weakness.

my other weakness is that i trust too much. give too much. and realise too late that all human beings with no exception, they only believe what they want to believe. see what they wish to see. listen to what they wish to listen to. and turn a deaf ear and a blind eye to all they choose not to believe in. even when deep down inside they know they should follow their heart, it always fails them.

there is so much to say but words are just words. for the ignorant, these words are like poison which they fail to understand. for the knowledgeable, they can only weep at the affirmation that i'm writing to them.

what does matter in the end is that you all must come to my funeral when i die. cry for all the times we lost trying to outwit one another. smile for all the memories we made out of those bad times. and laugh at the folly of our actions. rejoice for our paths have crossed. say goodbye. the world does not stop.

橡树的绿叶啊

白色的竹篱笆

好想告诉我的她

这里像幅画

去年的圣诞卡

镜子里的复杂

画面开始没有她

我还在装傻

说好为我泡花茶

学习摆刀叉

学生宿舍空荡荡的家

守着电话却等不到她

reading the christmas card that you wrote for me last year. not knowing how i could have made things different. how i could have lessen the pain i caused you without wanting to. not knowing how you will no longer be in my life today. not knowing how i could have stayed on in your life.

you were a special kind of friend. the kind i knew i could run to. to count on. a friend who could love me for my flaws and be always there for me. but you chose to be a stranger.

until today, the spot that you sit on in my heart is still sore. sorely missing you, my friend.

Growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what’s to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead of what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn’t have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves for growing up.

but i still wished i could be growing up alongside you.

It's not like they knew how or didn't know how. It's not like I liked you or didn't like you. It's not even the sadness and bitterness the forgotten times we had we shared we took we kept we threw away like thrash. They all don't matter.

I'll tell you what matters. What matters is that you're fine and well. You, my friend. My cherished loved friend. You wouldn't believe it but I've always been around. Waiting to catch you when you slipped. But you never gave me a chance. You never let yourself slip up and how could you fall? I've always been here. But where were you?

this has nothing to do with my sleep cycle. because i know if i climb into bed, i will sleep. but i don't want to. i prefer days to be short and nights to be long. i love being up when no one's about. there's then a good reason to be alone.

i love christmas but i love it a different way each year.

this year is full of misunderstood intentions. but nobody really knows why and what has happened to me. nobody really has to know i guess.

goodnight.

Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
Although you know the snow will follow.
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
Without a hurt the heart is hollow.
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
The fire of September that made us mellow.
Deep in December, our hearts should remember
And follow.

this place has been collecting dust. will dust it when i feel like doing it. for now, adios.

All men dream but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible.

you're pushing me further and further away from you.

Do you know the difference between education and experience? Education is when you read the fine print; experience is what you get when you don’t.

i sure as hell didn't read the fine prints. and i always refused to do so. what's education when you don't experience?

I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends… you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new. And you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.

Some things don’t last forever, but some things do. Like a good song, or a good book, or a good memory you can take out and unfold in your darkest times, pressing down on the corners and peering in close, hoping you still recognize the person you see there.

what about those bad songs. the books you wished you never read. the memories you wished you could forget. they can't be taken out and unfolded because they never ceased to exist. every day of our lives they exist and whether we know it or we try to push it far behind at the back of our minds, they will always surface.

and yes, i recognise the person i see there because like all the bad songs and books and memories that exist, i too exist all these while and nothing has changed.

We laughed and laughed, together and separately, out loud and silently, we were determined to ignore whatever needed to be ignored, to build a new world from nothing if nothing in our world could be salvaged, it was one of the best days of my life, a day during which I lived my life and didn’t think about my life at all.

but you know, ultimately i have to think about my life. how my life sucks sometimes because of some things that i have no control of. because of some decisions that were made and will always be made without approval, without consideration. because ultimately, i'm supposed to control my own life but everyone knows that it is quite impossible to take full control of it.

and i know, i still have to think about my life. i can't ignore what needs to be ignored. and a new world cannot be built from nothing in a world that cannot be salvaged.

Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn’t the world, it wasn’t the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don’t know, but it’s so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.

i decided that i really love myself. the fool in me that is. the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries.

hello december. i am already dreading your goodbye.

I must learn to love the fool in me - the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool.

p/s: i'm the little jumping lamb and you, you are the big fat ugly beast in front who leads blindly hehe.

I am good, but not an angel. I do sin,
but I am not the devil. I am just
a small girl in a big world trying to
find someone to love.

new moon

You try very hard to make up for something that was never your fault. What I mean is, it’s not like you asked for this. You didn’t choose this kind of life, and yet you have to work so hard to be good.

i wrote everything i wanted to say to you down, but you never knew what it was i meant. because i am only good at writing them between the lines. while you never knew betweenthelines existed.


there was once a girl who believed in everything she believed in. she believed in everything that others believed in. this girl, she believed in believing. but today, she believes in nothing.

how time strips us down and takes so much away from us. giving us so much to take away from but we keep letting them take it away instead. they keep taking and taking until we realise we're this close to having nothing at all.

i've so much to say, but i've nothing to write. so many words so jumbled up that they won't make no sense at all. is that it? is that how it'll always be, words and words jumbled up inside of me. can never really get them to fit.

we sung our hearts out, when we were young, pouring our sorrows, letting it drown in the wind and rain. we let it out and we let it in. and we learn to let it go. when we were young.

we had gold dust in our hands

Isn’t it odd how much fatter a book gets when you’ve read it several times? As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells… and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there, too, a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower…both strange and familiar.

I'm just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prize fighter
Still trapped within my youth

Anyone whose goal is ‘something higher’ must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?

i've waited long and hard to feel this way. to have the energy surge in every vein and blood that flows in me. lost in the world of languages. unknowingly absorbing the best of what it can offer to me. taking the bait and biting hard, having the best of what i could have if i wanted. i really love language. and i really should take this passion of mine more seriously.

i always say, from now on, i should do this and that. maybe i should say instead that, from now on i would and i must be more driven and know what i can achieve and get down to doing it. all talk means nothing. words mean nothing. action will mean at least something. i should. i could. but would i?

Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh, so mellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green and grain was yellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When you were a tender and callow fellow.
Try to remember, and if you remember,
Then follow.

the more you know

the more you know, the more you know you don’t know and the more you know that you don’t know.

those dreary clouds hanging low, i could almost reach out and touch it, feel it, take a bite out of it. as low as moods could go. everywhere the clouds are dark and i hope the thunder and lightning will never stop. let it rain for as long as it wants to and we can all be adrift, floating, not knowing where we're going to end up at, not knowing when we might drown and it's the end.

They say reality is an illusion
We all create our own
So who is right or wrong?
Yes, I am still searching for the truth
When did you stop looking?
Where did we go wrong?

Every time you create a problem
You have the remedy
The same old strategy
I ate the red pill, no turning back
The gloves are off now
Where did we go wrong?
Where did it all go wrong?

The fruit of my imagination
A blessing or a curse
I'm a stranger in a plastic nation
Stuck in reverse
Take a look from my perspective
It's so obvious to me
I can't stand this narrow-mindedness
We'll always disagree
We're incompatible

while you were walking away...

flashes of red and that tight chested sensation that refused to go away, threatening to tip over and spill all over. control trying so hard to control. gained it then lost it and tried to cling onto it again. appalled by the mental and emotional state of being. appalled but afraid. ruins life.

more and more, thoughts seem repelled. there's diminishing harmony. feels so bad.

why make it home for darkness and silence. why not make it home when there's still some light, some laughter, some happiness, some hope of comfort. why leave before there is life in the house. why go into the sun leaving her all alone. with unimaginable ailments that plagues her. uncontrollable palpitations. to lay there in pain and suffering. while you, have a sun-kissed day.

there were hopes, to be dashed. promises, to be broken. what else is there?

while you were walking away

cast me gently into the morning

for the night has been unkind
take me to a place so holy
that I can wash this from my mind
the memory of choosing not to fight

I didn’t want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I’d cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.

nobody shall ever live in such mortal fear of being. being herself. being something other than what others want or need her to be. being someone other than her deluded self. being someone. anyone. just by being, you're already something. by trying not to be, you lose. bit by bit you'll lose it. and you may not feel it at all but when you're nearing the end you'll realise, there's nothing left to fight the end. so it's just the end. the end.


be thou exalted

Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.

so many thoughts and feelings that run through our minds each day and each night. we've learnt to keep them to ourselves. we bury them with us and they go deep into our graves when we die.

the evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones.

let's now strive towards burying both good and evil. impossible.

there are no beginnings, only ends. there are no ends, only beginnings. it's either, or neither. there's no all, only nothing. all or nothing. there's no happiness or sadness but happiness and sadness. there's no laughter or tears, only tears and laughter.

but thy eternal summer shall not fade.

we run because we want to be chased.