Its a slippery slope to hell.
You begin by meeting someone that would lead you down it.
Worse still, you want to hold on and not let go.
Foolish Foolish Foolish.
Friday, 27 February 2009
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Tights!
Random Thought...
I Love tights/stockings, don't know what the cool polished french women have against them.
Who on earth invented long john bottoms? Thermal underwear! Totally irrelevant! Just wear a pair of tights! They are warmer and sexier.
A pair of tights, wear a long t-shirt over them. Pull on a snugly sweatshirt, with tights... who needs shorts! They can be worn at home, out, everywhere! A pair of tights can take you through the entire day!
Ahhhh... the best thing about them? That amazing mmmm feeling you get when one leg rubs against another. mmmm mmmm mmmm
I Love tights/stockings, don't know what the cool polished french women have against them.
Who on earth invented long john bottoms? Thermal underwear! Totally irrelevant! Just wear a pair of tights! They are warmer and sexier.
A pair of tights, wear a long t-shirt over them. Pull on a snugly sweatshirt, with tights... who needs shorts! They can be worn at home, out, everywhere! A pair of tights can take you through the entire day!
Ahhhh... the best thing about them? That amazing mmmm feeling you get when one leg rubs against another. mmmm mmmm mmmm
Monday, 23 February 2009
后青春期的诗
五月天's new album 后青春期的诗, I cannot gush more over it...
Listen to the songs, read the lyrics. Feel the truth stab you repeatedly in the heart.
后青春期的诗- We are at the perfect time and age. We are this album's target audience... It resounds so brilliantly for a reason.
Check out this song.
五月天-如烟
我坐在床前
望着窗外回忆满天
生命是华丽错觉
时间是贼偷走一切
七岁的那一年
抓住那只蝉
以为能抓住夏天
十七岁的那年
吻过他的脸
就以为和他能永远
有没有那麽一种永远
永远不改变
拥抱过的美丽
都再也不破碎
让险峻岁月不能
在脸上撒野
让生离和死别都遥远
有谁能听见
我坐在床前
转过头看谁在沉睡
那一张苍老的脸
好像是我紧闭双眼
曾经是爱我的
和我深爱的
都围绕在我身边
带不走的那些
遗憾和眷恋
就化成最后一滴眼泪
有没有那麽一滴眼泪
能洗掉后悔
化成大雨降落在
回不去的街
再给我一次机会
将故事改写
还欠了他一生的
一句抱歉
有没有那麽一个世界
永远不天黑
星星太阳万物都
听我的指挥
月亮不忙着圆缺
春天不走远
树梢紧紧拥抱着树叶
有谁能听见
耳际眼前此生重演
是我来自漆黑
而又回归漆黑
人间瞬间天地之间
下次我又是谁
有没有那麽一朵玫瑰
永远不凋谢
永远骄傲和完美
永远不妥协
为何人生最后会像
一张纸屑
还不如一片花瓣
曾经鲜艳
有没有那麽一张书签
停止那一天
最单纯的笑脸和
最美那一年
书包里面装满了
蛋糕和汽水
双眼只有无猜和无邪
让我们无法无天
有没有那麽一首诗篇
找不到句点
青春永远定居在
我们的岁月
男孩和女孩都有
吉他和舞鞋
笑忘人间的苦痛
只有甜美
有没有那麽一个明天
重头活一遍
让我再次感受
曾挥霍的昨天
无论生存或生活
我都不浪费
不让故事这麽的后悔
有谁能听见
我不要告别
我坐在床前
看着指尖已经如烟
Listen to the songs, read the lyrics. Feel the truth stab you repeatedly in the heart.
后青春期的诗- We are at the perfect time and age. We are this album's target audience... It resounds so brilliantly for a reason.
Check out this song.
五月天-如烟
我坐在床前
望着窗外回忆满天
生命是华丽错觉
时间是贼偷走一切
七岁的那一年
抓住那只蝉
以为能抓住夏天
十七岁的那年
吻过他的脸
就以为和他能永远
有没有那麽一种永远
永远不改变
拥抱过的美丽
都再也不破碎
让险峻岁月不能
在脸上撒野
让生离和死别都遥远
有谁能听见
我坐在床前
转过头看谁在沉睡
那一张苍老的脸
好像是我紧闭双眼
曾经是爱我的
和我深爱的
都围绕在我身边
带不走的那些
遗憾和眷恋
就化成最后一滴眼泪
有没有那麽一滴眼泪
能洗掉后悔
化成大雨降落在
回不去的街
再给我一次机会
将故事改写
还欠了他一生的
一句抱歉
有没有那麽一个世界
永远不天黑
星星太阳万物都
听我的指挥
月亮不忙着圆缺
春天不走远
树梢紧紧拥抱着树叶
有谁能听见
耳际眼前此生重演
是我来自漆黑
而又回归漆黑
人间瞬间天地之间
下次我又是谁
有没有那麽一朵玫瑰
永远不凋谢
永远骄傲和完美
永远不妥协
为何人生最后会像
一张纸屑
还不如一片花瓣
曾经鲜艳
有没有那麽一张书签
停止那一天
最单纯的笑脸和
最美那一年
书包里面装满了
蛋糕和汽水
双眼只有无猜和无邪
让我们无法无天
有没有那麽一首诗篇
找不到句点
青春永远定居在
我们的岁月
男孩和女孩都有
吉他和舞鞋
笑忘人间的苦痛
只有甜美
有没有那麽一个明天
重头活一遍
让我再次感受
曾挥霍的昨天
无论生存或生活
我都不浪费
不让故事这麽的后悔
有谁能听见
我不要告别
我坐在床前
看着指尖已经如烟
Sunday, 22 February 2009
不得不爱
Break, Break, Break- Tennyson
(excerpt)
Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
Sometimes I wonder about our generation, my generation. Yesterday, I had Wei Biao crazily ranting that in life everything but love was intangible and ephemeral. Quickly, my tongue expressed the sentiment-"how base!" I know I know... attack me about my horrid cynicism. =/ But its not only me. I'm just one of the few that articulate what others do in actions. Take the long distance relationship issue. How many times have you nodded in approval when someone takes the so called "higher" path and chooses exposure, career, or even better...a higher calling? It doesn't matter if they leave the ones they love romantically behind. For somehow romantic love has taken the lowest tier, falling far behind intellectual fullfillment, the pursual of dreams, the climbing of the career ladder, family love, godly love, friendship... You name it, and people would probably place romantic love behind all of these supposedly more noble pursuits.
Yet, without it so many of them are unsatisfied. Sure you have the people who insist that they don't need it currently. But, we all know that that feeling comes in waves. A tertiary education overseas can range between anything from 3-13 years. What makes us so confident that we can exist on our "higher" more "noble" diets? When we cannot, don't we just go round searching for that base love where we are? After leaving behind all that we could have had in pursit of that which is supposedly transient, didn't we just come a full circle? Not to mention the valuable time we wasted and the hearts we left disturbed.
Perhaps it is true. Love is base. Its low in position. So low that its the support all other higher intangibles rest on. 不得不爱 :) So, what on earth are all of us doing?! My respect goes out to all who were willing to acknowledge this fact and better still, take a risk in its favour.
(excerpt)
Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
Sometimes I wonder about our generation, my generation. Yesterday, I had Wei Biao crazily ranting that in life everything but love was intangible and ephemeral. Quickly, my tongue expressed the sentiment-"how base!" I know I know... attack me about my horrid cynicism. =/ But its not only me. I'm just one of the few that articulate what others do in actions. Take the long distance relationship issue. How many times have you nodded in approval when someone takes the so called "higher" path and chooses exposure, career, or even better...a higher calling? It doesn't matter if they leave the ones they love romantically behind. For somehow romantic love has taken the lowest tier, falling far behind intellectual fullfillment, the pursual of dreams, the climbing of the career ladder, family love, godly love, friendship... You name it, and people would probably place romantic love behind all of these supposedly more noble pursuits.
Yet, without it so many of them are unsatisfied. Sure you have the people who insist that they don't need it currently. But, we all know that that feeling comes in waves. A tertiary education overseas can range between anything from 3-13 years. What makes us so confident that we can exist on our "higher" more "noble" diets? When we cannot, don't we just go round searching for that base love where we are? After leaving behind all that we could have had in pursit of that which is supposedly transient, didn't we just come a full circle? Not to mention the valuable time we wasted and the hearts we left disturbed.
Perhaps it is true. Love is base. Its low in position. So low that its the support all other higher intangibles rest on. 不得不爱 :) So, what on earth are all of us doing?! My respect goes out to all who were willing to acknowledge this fact and better still, take a risk in its favour.
Thursday, 19 February 2009
Trees in a topsy turvey world
It rained and rained today.
So hard, the trees saw their reflections.
Strange how easily my bike went over them.
我要去台湾!
So hard, the trees saw their reflections.
Strange how easily my bike went over them.
我要去台湾!
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
HAPPINESS IS A WARM GUN
The Beatles- Happiness is a Warm Gun
She's not a girl who misses much
Do do do do do do- oh yeah
She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane
The man in the crowd with the multicoloured mirrors
On his hobnail boots
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
Working overtime
A soap impression of his wife which he ate
And donated to the National Trust
I need a fix 'cause I'm going down
Down to the bits that I left uptown
I need a fix cause I'm going down
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Happiness is a warm gun
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun, momma
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
When I hold you in my arms
(Ooooooooohhh, oh yeah!)
And when I feel my finger on your trigger
I know nobody can do me no harm
Because happiness is a warm gun, momma
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
-Yes it is, it's a warm gun!
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
Happiness is a warm, yes it is...
GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
Well don't ya know that happiness is a warm gun, momma?
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
Yeeeaahhh!
Happiness is a warm gun. Here is a toast to all morbid songs that so aptly reveal the darker recesses of the human consciousness.
Here is another toast to a song that supports my "Happiness does not exist" theory. Uh huh... It exists only in the state after the trigger is pulled.
She's not a girl who misses much
Do do do do do do- oh yeah
She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane
The man in the crowd with the multicoloured mirrors
On his hobnail boots
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
Working overtime
A soap impression of his wife which he ate
And donated to the National Trust
I need a fix 'cause I'm going down
Down to the bits that I left uptown
I need a fix cause I'm going down
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Happiness is a warm gun
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun, momma
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
When I hold you in my arms
(Ooooooooohhh, oh yeah!)
And when I feel my finger on your trigger
I know nobody can do me no harm
Because happiness is a warm gun, momma
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
-Yes it is, it's a warm gun!
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
Happiness is a warm, yes it is...
GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
Well don't ya know that happiness is a warm gun, momma?
(Bang Bang Shoot Shoot)
Yeeeaahhh!
Happiness is a warm gun. Here is a toast to all morbid songs that so aptly reveal the darker recesses of the human consciousness.
Here is another toast to a song that supports my "Happiness does not exist" theory. Uh huh... It exists only in the state after the trigger is pulled.
Monday, 16 February 2009
I want to shoot with such intensity and fervency as Juliette Binoche in "The Unbearable Lightness of Being".
To those who don't treat photography as art, just look at her.
Throw me a rope-KT Tunstall (good song, calm)
I want you between me and the feeling I get when I miss you
But everything here is telling me I should be fine
So why is it so, above as below,
That I'm missing you every time
I got used to you whispering things to me into the evening
We followed the sun and its colours and left this world
It seems to me that I'm definitely
Hearing the best that I've heard
So throw me a rope to hold me in place
Show me a clock for counting my days down
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Cause I feel alone
And whenever you go it's like holding my breath underwater
I have to admit that I kind of like it when I do
Oh but I've got to be unconditionally
Unafraid of my days without you
So throw me a rope to hold me in place
Show me a clock for counting my days down
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Whenever I'm falling you're always behind me
Come back and find me
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Cause I feel alone
To those who don't treat photography as art, just look at her.
Throw me a rope-KT Tunstall (good song, calm)
I want you between me and the feeling I get when I miss you
But everything here is telling me I should be fine
So why is it so, above as below,
That I'm missing you every time
I got used to you whispering things to me into the evening
We followed the sun and its colours and left this world
It seems to me that I'm definitely
Hearing the best that I've heard
So throw me a rope to hold me in place
Show me a clock for counting my days down
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Cause I feel alone
And whenever you go it's like holding my breath underwater
I have to admit that I kind of like it when I do
Oh but I've got to be unconditionally
Unafraid of my days without you
So throw me a rope to hold me in place
Show me a clock for counting my days down
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Whenever I'm falling you're always behind me
Come back and find me
Cause everything's easier when you're beside me
Come back and find me
Cause I feel alone
Sunday, 15 February 2009
Strength
Strength. What does it mean to have it? What connotes it?
Recently, I had the dubious pleasure of undergoing a mildly trying experience. We can loosely term it the "Ribbon Cutting of Commitment". Its probably something that most people go through in the process of growing up. However, I must say that it was the various reactions coming from the people around that deeply confused me.
The theme of the experience must be strength. My best friend told me that it was okay not to be okay, and that it takes a truly strong and courageous person to face up to what one feels. He told me that it takes true strength to show, to acknowledge and admit. On the other hand, I had people judging me for being unable to keep it all in. These people profess that true strength is the ability to remain unmoved, to react with no reaction. Tears, an unhappy face, anger have all strangely become taboos. I used to be a huge perpetrator of the latter actually. Tears I consider weak, a broken heart stupid. It's only after this experience that I came to the realisation that emotional blocking can hurt. Sure, one doesn't feel anything, but it selfishly hurts everyone else who cares enough. Worse still, it is the easier option.
Blocking is more comfortable and respectable with regards to society. The former would actually inconvenience the people around you who don't care, but have to witness it. Sadly for me, happily for everyone around me, I chose the latter, a day late.
I know what blocking can do. I know that there are people who hurt because I refuse to hurt. But I don't have the courage or the strength to face up to it alone. Worse still, I have contorted my thoughts to so severe an extent that I don't even know what they used to be.
Recently, I had the dubious pleasure of undergoing a mildly trying experience. We can loosely term it the "Ribbon Cutting of Commitment". Its probably something that most people go through in the process of growing up. However, I must say that it was the various reactions coming from the people around that deeply confused me.
The theme of the experience must be strength. My best friend told me that it was okay not to be okay, and that it takes a truly strong and courageous person to face up to what one feels. He told me that it takes true strength to show, to acknowledge and admit. On the other hand, I had people judging me for being unable to keep it all in. These people profess that true strength is the ability to remain unmoved, to react with no reaction. Tears, an unhappy face, anger have all strangely become taboos. I used to be a huge perpetrator of the latter actually. Tears I consider weak, a broken heart stupid. It's only after this experience that I came to the realisation that emotional blocking can hurt. Sure, one doesn't feel anything, but it selfishly hurts everyone else who cares enough. Worse still, it is the easier option.
Blocking is more comfortable and respectable with regards to society. The former would actually inconvenience the people around you who don't care, but have to witness it. Sadly for me, happily for everyone around me, I chose the latter, a day late.
I know what blocking can do. I know that there are people who hurt because I refuse to hurt. But I don't have the courage or the strength to face up to it alone. Worse still, I have contorted my thoughts to so severe an extent that I don't even know what they used to be.
Tuesday, 3 February 2009
Monday, 2 February 2009
To love or to be loved
No matter how much we like to deny it, we really are creatures made by our parents. The way we think, the way we look, even the way we hold a pair of chopsticks have their imprints stamped all over.
Daddy has always taught me that to be loved by someone is way more comfortable and important than to love someone. In fact, he even repeatedly told me over the years to find someone that loves me more than I love him. This random bit of parental wisdom has strangely influenced my entire view towards love, relationships and lalala. Needless to say, because of that I grew up a rather frigid and cold child, unable and afraid to give before I receive. Thank god I had a mediating big sisterly influence in my life who tried to impress upon my little mind that sometimes I have to give first, sometimes I just have to love first. But Grace's advice never guaranteed love back whereas Daddy's advice promised that I will always be loved when I love.
Recently during a conversation with someone, I had to face up to this strange unexamined portion of myself. When I was younger, it was so easy to idealistically tell Daddy that I want to love him just as much as he loves me. Now, I know why people are constantly trying to strike a balance- Cause there is no such thing. One party always loves the other more, and that is the party that suffers. Thats how songs like the one below pierce hearts.
How many times have I heard or even uttered the statements- Why doesn't she/he call? Why doesn't she/he want to meet me more often? Why doesn't she/he care? Hot cold Hot cold Honestly because of my Daddy's drilling, the answer in my heart to that will always be she/he doesn't love/like you you enough. Sure, she/he likes you she/he may even love you! But not enough. Am I right? When someone doesn't call or express affection, does it mean that she/he doesn't love him/her enough? But how much is enough? And if there is an enough, what separates it from too much? Its a cruel statement and also a hopeless one. When confronted with that fact, one cannot do anything. Its too extreme to leave and too sad to put up with it. One way out is as she says- "Every time he hurts me, I love him a little less. If I'm lucky, I'll stop loving him by the time he delivers the final blow." But that is too sad as well.
Such a ramble with no conclusion. Daddy will have something to say about this as well. He always says that a discussion with no conclusion or solution is but a waste of time, saliva and money. AH! there is no end to this. Have fun with the song lyrics!
下雨天了怎么办
我好想你
不敢打给你
我找不到原因
为什么失眠的声音
变得好熟悉
沉默的场景
做你的代替
陪我听雨滴
期待让人越来越沉迷
谁和我一样
等不到他的谁
爱上你我总在学会
寂寞的滋味
一个人撑伞
一个人擦泪
一个人好累
怎样的雨怎样的夜 (What kind of rain What kind of night)
怎样的我能让你更想念 (What must I be to make you miss me more)
雨要多大天要多黑 (How harsh the rain How dark the night)
才能够有你的体贴 (Must be for me to have your care)
-loosely translated. But It'll suffice.
Daddy has always taught me that to be loved by someone is way more comfortable and important than to love someone. In fact, he even repeatedly told me over the years to find someone that loves me more than I love him. This random bit of parental wisdom has strangely influenced my entire view towards love, relationships and lalala. Needless to say, because of that I grew up a rather frigid and cold child, unable and afraid to give before I receive. Thank god I had a mediating big sisterly influence in my life who tried to impress upon my little mind that sometimes I have to give first, sometimes I just have to love first. But Grace's advice never guaranteed love back whereas Daddy's advice promised that I will always be loved when I love.
Recently during a conversation with someone, I had to face up to this strange unexamined portion of myself. When I was younger, it was so easy to idealistically tell Daddy that I want to love him just as much as he loves me. Now, I know why people are constantly trying to strike a balance- Cause there is no such thing. One party always loves the other more, and that is the party that suffers. Thats how songs like the one below pierce hearts.
How many times have I heard or even uttered the statements- Why doesn't she/he call? Why doesn't she/he want to meet me more often? Why doesn't she/he care? Hot cold Hot cold Honestly because of my Daddy's drilling, the answer in my heart to that will always be she/he doesn't love/like you you enough. Sure, she/he likes you she/he may even love you! But not enough. Am I right? When someone doesn't call or express affection, does it mean that she/he doesn't love him/her enough? But how much is enough? And if there is an enough, what separates it from too much? Its a cruel statement and also a hopeless one. When confronted with that fact, one cannot do anything. Its too extreme to leave and too sad to put up with it. One way out is as she says- "Every time he hurts me, I love him a little less. If I'm lucky, I'll stop loving him by the time he delivers the final blow." But that is too sad as well.
Such a ramble with no conclusion. Daddy will have something to say about this as well. He always says that a discussion with no conclusion or solution is but a waste of time, saliva and money. AH! there is no end to this. Have fun with the song lyrics!
下雨天了怎么办
我好想你
不敢打给你
我找不到原因
为什么失眠的声音
变得好熟悉
沉默的场景
做你的代替
陪我听雨滴
期待让人越来越沉迷
谁和我一样
等不到他的谁
爱上你我总在学会
寂寞的滋味
一个人撑伞
一个人擦泪
一个人好累
怎样的雨怎样的夜 (What kind of rain What kind of night)
怎样的我能让你更想念 (What must I be to make you miss me more)
雨要多大天要多黑 (How harsh the rain How dark the night)
才能够有你的体贴 (Must be for me to have your care)
-loosely translated. But It'll suffice.
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