"It's your big day."
So indeed tomorrow is a big day..a minature big-day. Aww, what the heck, my words are scrambled again, can you believe someone who's as shy as being unable to type firmly into a blank page, yeah it's me. It's the me who in some noticeable fashion(Yes I know , the waist, and I'm magically ten years older) whom has been changed, strayed off or restored, I wonder.(So, to whom these words shall find their character in, you are probably able to authenticate by now these erratic thoughts do verify it's another one of my ramblings again. And voicing my testimonials here by no means signifies my eagerness to promote this scrapbook.)
This is the brainchild of a 9 month long emptiness(code: winter) The 9 months which are stagnant as water, blank as white houses, quiet as blue mornings in judgmental eyes, yet as you all know the picture's nothing but that, nothing as simple or mediterranean as that is what I wish to connotate in words that describe anger, fear, downheartedness, desultoriness, and hiatus.
But after all it's as if I have had all the time some dont have in the world to watch myself in greyscale, then I thought: this could not be the beginning, nor abruptly the end of something. This could be a life as monochrome as black ties in white suit outside the school fence if we lost ourselves the spark, the zeal, the raison d'etre(code: dream). And then it occurred to me, if somehow I'll lost my way in the search for a home, that I shall never be as proud as a kite runner, that I shall lost the dreams which have sailed me hitherto and to step into an apparition of emptiness, there will still be this palpable part of me I'll always be grateful of, the one who happens to be a confluence of you all, your, or our mutual weaknesses that pained us to search for much more than self, and your virtues and beliefs that will incite me to search for much more than life.
(The set of numbers below are not in any form of chronological, alphabetical, neither ascending or descending order, they're just, me -erratic)
The un-trademarked Fantastic 4.
0530
The guy friend whom we did all the guy talks, and also the first one who tasted my chilling reticence, and accounted years later he unwrapped the adorable plump devil
beneath the disguise that I once darted him a chilling look. Ah whatever, at least you found me! And ops, thenceforth he has been the mortal who devotedly came to this devil for some virtuous ocnfession, and only to find himself debauched into some licentious chatter. Yet he came back again and again, I wonder. Alright just kidding.
And, he's quite a catch(not mine though) therefore I cannot recommend him enough for the eyes of all the honorable women out there and attached is the criteria of the candidate: sensible, down-to-earth, romantic(or nasty), attentive(or maybe lusty)
Hahahha, bless you, the sentiment I have been trying to cultivate in this post is ruined!
He's a car fanatic, he has got these magazines and factsheets statistically imprinted in his trapezium head. So whenever you need advices, or talks, or would like to be his friend, even girl friend, give him a call at:(find-me-at-the-love-parade). Boy, aint you multifunctional, every woman needs a guy like him.
Serious, ahem, he has been a steadfast acquaintance of mine, from age of 13, and even if he's the only son in his family, even if he looks no more robust than a branch in the wind, here is he, mellowed but ever-growing emotionally, though sometimes slacking, but diligent and learning to find himself in his big big world.
1016
Here's the woman who's soaring herself into music. Her homage paid to rock is not any less than band players who altars the stage, and you guessed it-she lives wildy, walks wildly, eats wildly, drives wildly in her singular Myvi-dark grey body with a bright caramel skirt which I dare you to find no other more peculiar yet matching pair.
But if she happens to step down her car slowly and in the gentle wind you will find she talks with a tenderness of a piano player playing Adagio, and when she straps on her guitar she walks with a confidence not any less than a soloist, when she sings she voices in the grace of a choir alto.
(The above phenomena are observed once in a blue moon, Results may vary, what's the saying about...different strokes for different folks? )
If she had been coddled, she now manifests total independence in her actions, if she had been sulky, she's now as patient as a listener, if she had been feeble, she now is, on the way of becoming a leader, leading a chaotic life, balancing the niches of a sister, a daughter, a music student, a friend and a woman.
And with her pure ardour towards music, she's practically the one who loves all the music, though not as comprehensive as all genres but, she loves them more than fervently and more important, purely, and she's now on her promising way to the realm of music.
0626
Now who is this, eXOtic plumpy? Every where she walks she shakes the room with her hips. And now she's doing PR with her flashy and 'persuading' eloquence, she'll be one hell of a talker out there.
But way back when we're in white shorts, I used to picture us as lilies on meadows, and despite all the craze and madness in our respective worlds the metaphor is overtly simple, not the least saccharine.
We met 4 years ago, and for the longest of time she has been closest to a, if I might, not just a friend, a woman I'm quite fond of. Often does she know what I'm expressing, vice versa. In her voice there's a certain warmth of caring, which often as mysterious to me as the girl I saw in her. In fact I once attributed her as a girl with a killer's countenance,
and in these years sometimes the mystique I once saw in her surfaced as plain sorrow, and sometimes much more than any one of us she is disheartened. But there she is, after hurdles and hurdles which she overcame with all the guts and tears, ready to search and enjoy much more than her life can offer.
And if I may, shamelessly remark that if there was a pair somewhere out there who shares our kind of relationship, with me not being so 'me', there might have been so much more space to fill between us, much more understanding to pull us closer. I can only say that. And for the sea of empty promises I've once selfishly forged her for the sake of retaining her company, I can only say that.
Thought she might not be the voluptuous lady in a Bond movie, she's not any..less...BOMBASTIC. But, on her informal farewell, she spontaneously asked my hands for a Long Distance Relationship...Sorry, I'm not your Christine...
0925
The inept narrator who has been typing for your scrolling needs.
And here's a revelation for your inquisitiveness if you have been bored, 4 of us have been single since we were born of mergence of 2 life-complex, in other words, we were born into this 'hectic' singleness from doubleness, what the heck?(dont suggest pairing us up) that we pathetically came up with a plan to expense and let out all the fury and solitude of being single into cutting a god-damn cake annually at Valentine's day.
But even if we've yet to have our fill of romance, we once had a life at the age of 15 which, not a teenage drama, yet not any less the craze which enveloped our youth in.
(Standing on a see-saw memorizing formulaes, sitting in the middle of a ball court compassed in haze doing religious last minute studies, hiding in the tunnel of playground faking car accidents. Looking back makes me feel 10 years younger.)
That's the un-trademarked Fantastic 4, Guess who's who then.
0327
The big brother who currently is in a romance quandary, yea I know what all you folks want to say- as he always has been.
He's quite an explorer, who possesses quite a keen curiosity. He'll do all the crazy things, jumping off a slope, incinerating bugs and countless laugh-out-loud stuffs. As luck may have it, this is why he'll always be the one manifests in a multitude of fashion- injured toes weeks before competition, bruises are part of his complexion, sometimes ugly hair, colored nails...paint your own picture.
And time has diverged us to different men, but I've once been an insecure kid who looked up to him as a brotherly figure, eventhough now we are, as we came to know each other, both just men with overwhelming relationship problems, but he's a man who'll live in a...reckless? or carefree? or intrepid? manner, hmm rather would I say, one of a kind. He's he.
For your info, he's always selling like hot cakes, picked out of the shelf or self-promoting, so I proudly declare: He's a n-th hand good. No experience needed, just pick him directly from the shelf and he'll be yours, but you'll have to be quite a keeper too.
To be continued...
This is the brainchild of a 9 month long emptiness(code: winter) The 9 months which are stagnant as water, blank as white houses, quiet as blue mornings in judgmental eyes, yet as you all know the picture's nothing but that, nothing as simple or mediterranean as that is what I wish to connotate in words that describe anger, fear, downheartedness, desultoriness, and hiatus.
But after all it's as if I have had all the time some dont have in the world to watch myself in greyscale, then I thought: this could not be the beginning, nor abruptly the end of something. This could be a life as monochrome as black ties in white suit outside the school fence if we lost ourselves the spark, the zeal, the raison d'etre(code: dream). And then it occurred to me, if somehow I'll lost my way in the search for a home, that I shall never be as proud as a kite runner, that I shall lost the dreams which have sailed me hitherto and to step into an apparition of emptiness, there will still be this palpable part of me I'll always be grateful of, the one who happens to be a confluence of you all, your, or our mutual weaknesses that pained us to search for much more than self, and your virtues and beliefs that will incite me to search for much more than life.
(The set of numbers below are not in any form of chronological, alphabetical, neither ascending or descending order, they're just, me -erratic)
The un-trademarked Fantastic 4.
0530
The guy friend whom we did all the guy talks, and also the first one who tasted my chilling reticence, and accounted years later he unwrapped the adorable plump devil
beneath the disguise that I once darted him a chilling look. Ah whatever, at least you found me! And ops, thenceforth he has been the mortal who devotedly came to this devil for some virtuous ocnfession, and only to find himself debauched into some licentious chatter. Yet he came back again and again, I wonder. Alright just kidding.
And, he's quite a catch(not mine though) therefore I cannot recommend him enough for the eyes of all the honorable women out there and attached is the criteria of the candidate: sensible, down-to-earth, romantic(or nasty), attentive(or maybe lusty)
Hahahha, bless you, the sentiment I have been trying to cultivate in this post is ruined!
He's a car fanatic, he has got these magazines and factsheets statistically imprinted in his trapezium head. So whenever you need advices, or talks, or would like to be his friend, even girl friend, give him a call at:(find-me-at-the-love-parade). Boy, aint you multifunctional, every woman needs a guy like him.
Serious, ahem, he has been a steadfast acquaintance of mine, from age of 13, and even if he's the only son in his family, even if he looks no more robust than a branch in the wind, here is he, mellowed but ever-growing emotionally, though sometimes slacking, but diligent and learning to find himself in his big big world.
1016
Here's the woman who's soaring herself into music. Her homage paid to rock is not any less than band players who altars the stage, and you guessed it-she lives wildy, walks wildly, eats wildly, drives wildly in her singular Myvi-dark grey body with a bright caramel skirt which I dare you to find no other more peculiar yet matching pair.
But if she happens to step down her car slowly and in the gentle wind you will find she talks with a tenderness of a piano player playing Adagio, and when she straps on her guitar she walks with a confidence not any less than a soloist, when she sings she voices in the grace of a choir alto.
(The above phenomena are observed once in a blue moon, Results may vary, what's the saying about...different strokes for different folks? )
If she had been coddled, she now manifests total independence in her actions, if she had been sulky, she's now as patient as a listener, if she had been feeble, she now is, on the way of becoming a leader, leading a chaotic life, balancing the niches of a sister, a daughter, a music student, a friend and a woman.
And with her pure ardour towards music, she's practically the one who loves all the music, though not as comprehensive as all genres but, she loves them more than fervently and more important, purely, and she's now on her promising way to the realm of music.
0626
Now who is this, eXOtic plumpy? Every where she walks she shakes the room with her hips. And now she's doing PR with her flashy and 'persuading' eloquence, she'll be one hell of a talker out there.
But way back when we're in white shorts, I used to picture us as lilies on meadows, and despite all the craze and madness in our respective worlds the metaphor is overtly simple, not the least saccharine.
We met 4 years ago, and for the longest of time she has been closest to a, if I might, not just a friend, a woman I'm quite fond of. Often does she know what I'm expressing, vice versa. In her voice there's a certain warmth of caring, which often as mysterious to me as the girl I saw in her. In fact I once attributed her as a girl with a killer's countenance,
and in these years sometimes the mystique I once saw in her surfaced as plain sorrow, and sometimes much more than any one of us she is disheartened. But there she is, after hurdles and hurdles which she overcame with all the guts and tears, ready to search and enjoy much more than her life can offer.
And if I may, shamelessly remark that if there was a pair somewhere out there who shares our kind of relationship, with me not being so 'me', there might have been so much more space to fill between us, much more understanding to pull us closer. I can only say that. And for the sea of empty promises I've once selfishly forged her for the sake of retaining her company, I can only say that.
Thought she might not be the voluptuous lady in a Bond movie, she's not any..less...BOMBASTIC. But, on her informal farewell, she spontaneously asked my hands for a Long Distance Relationship...Sorry, I'm not your Christine...
0925
The inept narrator who has been typing for your scrolling needs.
And here's a revelation for your inquisitiveness if you have been bored, 4 of us have been single since we were born of mergence of 2 life-complex, in other words, we were born into this 'hectic' singleness from doubleness, what the heck?(dont suggest pairing us up) that we pathetically came up with a plan to expense and let out all the fury and solitude of being single into cutting a god-damn cake annually at Valentine's day.
But even if we've yet to have our fill of romance, we once had a life at the age of 15 which, not a teenage drama, yet not any less the craze which enveloped our youth in.
(Standing on a see-saw memorizing formulaes, sitting in the middle of a ball court compassed in haze doing religious last minute studies, hiding in the tunnel of playground faking car accidents. Looking back makes me feel 10 years younger.)
That's the un-trademarked Fantastic 4, Guess who's who then.
0327
The big brother who currently is in a romance quandary, yea I know what all you folks want to say- as he always has been.
He's quite an explorer, who possesses quite a keen curiosity. He'll do all the crazy things, jumping off a slope, incinerating bugs and countless laugh-out-loud stuffs. As luck may have it, this is why he'll always be the one manifests in a multitude of fashion- injured toes weeks before competition, bruises are part of his complexion, sometimes ugly hair, colored nails...paint your own picture.
And time has diverged us to different men, but I've once been an insecure kid who looked up to him as a brotherly figure, eventhough now we are, as we came to know each other, both just men with overwhelming relationship problems, but he's a man who'll live in a...reckless? or carefree? or intrepid? manner, hmm rather would I say, one of a kind. He's he.
For your info, he's always selling like hot cakes, picked out of the shelf or self-promoting, so I proudly declare: He's a n-th hand good. No experience needed, just pick him directly from the shelf and he'll be yours, but you'll have to be quite a keeper too.
To be continued...
回忆
太阳的温度在15摄氏的角落里徘徊. 把厚厚的玻璃门随手关上, 像脱鞋的礼貌般腼腆地御下了影子在门外, 尽管隔离了一部分城市的喧嚣, 往向门外还是有一些神思恍惚, 但却一心想排斥门外的世俗.
我们的对话也是有一句, 无一句般, 当年高二的故事正写得像夕阳那么无悔地灿烂, 但分离总是太突然, 无法细腻地伤怀 "晓来谁然霜林醉"; 也无法潇洒挥袖 "四海之内皆兄弟". 笔下还幼嫩地酝酿着的字迹, 就想断了线的风筝各自追求了自己的风向.
阳光慢慢地扩散进来, 环抱着我们三人的空间, 陌生感一点一点地溶解了. 当我们天壤之别的频率慢慢挨近了距离, 回忆渐渐地殊途归同, 像倒带的走马灯一起慢步回校园那一道路.
回忆不是一个人的言语, 很多时候让快门捕捉了生活的一面, 但是当回忆只能在方框里展现色彩, 我却听不见当时我们的对白. 或许是当年自己把所有的感情都加上了深琐, 即想潇洒地轰烈一番青春, 但同时也怕留下太多孤单. 所以多次想悄悄回到那一个课室, 却仅能透过玻璃窗, 隔着用一把锁匙开不了的门看着关了灯的课室, 感觉的只有虚无缥缈的遗憾.
当年, 就算没有毕业歌的洗礼, 没有"生平良朋"的答应, 校园的一部分感情就那么寄托了在朋友的身上. 在琐碎的繁忙中突然想起某某时, 不知道他脑海深出有没有溅起一番共鸣. 我们今天终于把各自的拼图块完璧归赵, 或许是因为具体而微的曾经拥有, 两年后的今天重聚还没生疏得有沧海桑田的感概. 像一本交换了两年的周记, 就算已尘封了在两年的孤寂, 却因为有了定形而没有流失太多的回忆.
A :" 那时'C'很cool的, 我还记得"
B :" 他扮cool罢了, 有了女朋友温柔都来不及."
c 只是在机械地整理餐具, 但嘴角却悄悄地弯了个小弧度.
总有一张那样的照片, 是三个人的一条平行线清晰地画了在模糊的人海之中, 只是当时我们的稚气都为各自添加了距离.
回到来了现在顿时有种欣慰感. 一间餐厅, 一个屋子或一个课室, 当我们的生活风平浪静总不会太在意它们的存在, 却在这一个生命的空洞期, 我把那种归宿感拥抱的紧紧. 欣慰我们离开了校园后都各自找到了另一种存在, 好让时间不偏不倚地把我们的生命继续. 就算这一阵严寒还是有点冷, 狂风掠过登山的提灯人, 威胁着忽明忽灭的勇气.
遥望, 我与千岩万壑仍是隔着万里长, 伸出手, 海角天涯始终是在无穷的斜对面. 若再次回到两年前, 我们现在到底是遵循着自己的方程式, 阔步在梦想的康庄; 还是让太多一知半解的生命未知数纠缠得像矫揉造作的傀儡. 而我还记得曾告诉自己, 总会到一个远方, 找到一片晴朗, 完整的湛蓝天空. 回想起, 心也不禁抽搐了一下, 但那次停顿的心跳里究竟孵育着遗憾的伤感还是光荣的快乐, 我连猜测的信心都失去了.
我离开了座位, 但我们的思绪没有因此再次突然断开, 我虽在镜子前, 仿佛还与A的回忆连结着, A往着C, 努力地在他的安静中寻找昔日的C. 我们的哑剧, 只有一页又一页的回忆泛滥得占据了现在的时空. 这次沉默的意义看来是下次相聚的开场白, 乍看下简单得乏味, 却像是最完美.
推开玻璃门, 此起彼伏的钢骨水泥淹没了视线下方, 车马喧掺杂着阳光饱和了27摄氏度的空气. 夕阳斜下, 我们城市人的影子重重叠叠成我无法理喻的抽象画. 寻梦的人, 现实的人, 追求自由的人, 等待自由的人, 我们浸泡在晕晕的金黄色阳光, 惆怅了今天的傍晚.
我顺着反方向走回家, 影子陪伴了我的寂寞一下, 突然像是想起什么而停立了在十字路口, 我们之间的漆黑随着夜的降临越拖拉越长.
我们的对话也是有一句, 无一句般, 当年高二的故事正写得像夕阳那么无悔地灿烂, 但分离总是太突然, 无法细腻地伤怀 "晓来谁然霜林醉"; 也无法潇洒挥袖 "四海之内皆兄弟". 笔下还幼嫩地酝酿着的字迹, 就想断了线的风筝各自追求了自己的风向.
阳光慢慢地扩散进来, 环抱着我们三人的空间, 陌生感一点一点地溶解了. 当我们天壤之别的频率慢慢挨近了距离, 回忆渐渐地殊途归同, 像倒带的走马灯一起慢步回校园那一道路.
回忆不是一个人的言语, 很多时候让快门捕捉了生活的一面, 但是当回忆只能在方框里展现色彩, 我却听不见当时我们的对白. 或许是当年自己把所有的感情都加上了深琐, 即想潇洒地轰烈一番青春, 但同时也怕留下太多孤单. 所以多次想悄悄回到那一个课室, 却仅能透过玻璃窗, 隔着用一把锁匙开不了的门看着关了灯的课室, 感觉的只有虚无缥缈的遗憾.
当年, 就算没有毕业歌的洗礼, 没有"生平良朋"的答应, 校园的一部分感情就那么寄托了在朋友的身上. 在琐碎的繁忙中突然想起某某时, 不知道他脑海深出有没有溅起一番共鸣. 我们今天终于把各自的拼图块完璧归赵, 或许是因为具体而微的曾经拥有, 两年后的今天重聚还没生疏得有沧海桑田的感概. 像一本交换了两年的周记, 就算已尘封了在两年的孤寂, 却因为有了定形而没有流失太多的回忆.
A :" 那时'C'很cool的, 我还记得"
B :" 他扮cool罢了, 有了女朋友温柔都来不及."
c 只是在机械地整理餐具, 但嘴角却悄悄地弯了个小弧度.
总有一张那样的照片, 是三个人的一条平行线清晰地画了在模糊的人海之中, 只是当时我们的稚气都为各自添加了距离.
回到来了现在顿时有种欣慰感. 一间餐厅, 一个屋子或一个课室, 当我们的生活风平浪静总不会太在意它们的存在, 却在这一个生命的空洞期, 我把那种归宿感拥抱的紧紧. 欣慰我们离开了校园后都各自找到了另一种存在, 好让时间不偏不倚地把我们的生命继续. 就算这一阵严寒还是有点冷, 狂风掠过登山的提灯人, 威胁着忽明忽灭的勇气.
遥望, 我与千岩万壑仍是隔着万里长, 伸出手, 海角天涯始终是在无穷的斜对面. 若再次回到两年前, 我们现在到底是遵循着自己的方程式, 阔步在梦想的康庄; 还是让太多一知半解的生命未知数纠缠得像矫揉造作的傀儡. 而我还记得曾告诉自己, 总会到一个远方, 找到一片晴朗, 完整的湛蓝天空. 回想起, 心也不禁抽搐了一下, 但那次停顿的心跳里究竟孵育着遗憾的伤感还是光荣的快乐, 我连猜测的信心都失去了.
我离开了座位, 但我们的思绪没有因此再次突然断开, 我虽在镜子前, 仿佛还与A的回忆连结着, A往着C, 努力地在他的安静中寻找昔日的C. 我们的哑剧, 只有一页又一页的回忆泛滥得占据了现在的时空. 这次沉默的意义看来是下次相聚的开场白, 乍看下简单得乏味, 却像是最完美.
推开玻璃门, 此起彼伏的钢骨水泥淹没了视线下方, 车马喧掺杂着阳光饱和了27摄氏度的空气. 夕阳斜下, 我们城市人的影子重重叠叠成我无法理喻的抽象画. 寻梦的人, 现实的人, 追求自由的人, 等待自由的人, 我们浸泡在晕晕的金黄色阳光, 惆怅了今天的傍晚.
我顺着反方向走回家, 影子陪伴了我的寂寞一下, 突然像是想起什么而停立了在十字路口, 我们之间的漆黑随着夜的降临越拖拉越长.