hi friendly little boy who just wants to be part of people's lives and be superman.
hi weird little girl who likes to laugh and asks a lot of unanswerable questions.
hi wise old guy who is just too idealistic for this world of little boys and girls.

when holidays come

when it comes, I will repaint my room white. I hope jiaxuan will help me. It will be a nice coupley project. Paint my dirty door and all the brown spots. everything white. put a lace curtain on the window and the cupboard. if it doesnt cost too much, a mirrored wardrobe. Then I will paste 1Corithians on my wall. My wardrobe will be filled with white dresses. And the bed will have some unfussy flowy thing.

I hope my hand heals soon. I want to play basketball!

and hopefully i can write the story between my father and me well.
And ya, i want to revamp this blog and perhaps make it private.

The confusion.
The vanity.
The exhibitionist
in confused, vain me :(

the pageantry of life

"And these two people in the water, trying to hold onto each other, holding as hard as they can, but in the end it's just too much. The current's too strong. They've got to let go, drift apart. (They want to stay forever)...but in the end, we can't stay forever."

"In our early youth we sit before the life that lies ahead of us like children sitting before the curtain in a theatre, in happy and tense anticipation of whatever is going to appear. Luckily we do not know what really will appear."

So kiss me with your mouth open

“Dilaudid” by The Mountain Goats.


The reception's gotten fuzzy
The delicate balance has shifted
Put on your gloves and black pumps
Let's pretend the fog has lifted
Now you see me, now you don't
Now you say you love me
Pretty soon you won't
If we get our full three score and ten
We won't pass this way again
So kiss me with your mouth open
Turn the tires toward the street
And stay sweet


All the chickens come on home to roost
Plump bodies blotting out the sky
You know it breaks my heart in half, in half
When I see them trying to see them fly
'Cuz you just can't do things your body wasn't meant to
Hike up your fishnets, I know you
If we live to see the other side of this
I will remember your kiss
So do it with your mouth open
And take your foot off of the brake
For Christ's sake!

whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely.

I dont know what i want.

is it because I am a girl?
is it Eve's sin?

Am I to give Adam his apple?

To be beautiful and admired.
To be beautiful and admired.
To be beautiful and admired.

what for?

To love and be loved,
but is it really enough?
Love is exclusive
so there is only one.
and so narrow narrow is my world.
is that a happy world?

To be beautiful and admired.

what for?

To cover myself with beautiful beautiful images and love.
shutting out all the monstrous consumerism and cattishness
is that a selfish act?
silly old goose.
yes. i am getting old. :(

你为什么要欺负我

should i be a butterfly?
should i be a butterfly?
buttery, buttery fly
that irritates
that smooth-talk
something so slippery
you can never catch

the power of pink
of black and pink
that screams
LOOK AT ME!
NOW!
do I really want that?

if love is not all these things,
then what?
then what things?
the china girl in blue?

oh
but to scream out loud
to scream out loud
to scream out loud



to scream out the reason
of why we exist at all


I want to, I need to,

the only light shining
but it is making me yawn.

Will I cherish you, adore you, make way for you, make myself better for you, look at you and always see you, tell you the truth? And if love is not those things then what things?

"I want the hoop around our hearts to be a guide not a terror. I don't want to pull you tighter than you can bear. I don't want the lines to slacken either, the thread paying out over the side, enough rope to hang ourselves. " [written on the body]

do you want me to love you more and suffocate you or love you less and make you pant in relentless pursue? Is there a middle ground at all?

i wonder what is it like to have clean hair everyday.
smooth feet soles
baby feet.
baby foot.


I am a bitch, I am a lover, I am a saint.


The 3-room flat with potted plants and baby breaths
The painfully pristine white room with clean light
The luxe the luxe the luxe


it dangles.
and I try to catch it while running away.


To be banal
to be crude
to be real
to be of the world
to be of the earth
to be face stuck in the unwashable mire

just look up
and my heart groan
learn to hum
learn to sing a new song
heartbreakingly free
I want that white sky
even if it is covered with clouds.
especially if it is covered with clouds.


the baby times
the baby times where we all have smooth skins and honest smiles.
It is the best then
the tomboy then
the wide jaw seems sweet then
seems honest
is honest now
but the world distorts
the world that is cladded in mean black skinny jeans.
So tight you cant breathe.


A world without crumbs.
A world where biscuits will not crumble if you crush it
where bread is also soft as the hug.
where black tangle-ly hair is natural
and not dirty.


kindness, our redeeming soul.
our redemming soul for the self-
king and queens.

even me, especially me.

transulcent snow skin
plush morning rose lips
eyes turned upwards
breathe cleanly.

I wish time can be spinned.
Backwards.


I wish I had more strength to keep my guard up.


then perharps
things wont have turn out this way.


when i am the one screaming
Away.

I wonder
what goes on in the Other head
does the Other know
that when I choose to shut off

ijustneedsomeloving

instead of the harsh mean words.

that actually I am a dog without bite
for all my teeth were taken out long ago
without me knowing it.

Silent tears. Might not be a good thing afterall. Save from public embarrassment but pierced by unknowed.

others sing, others roar their way through life.
I realise that maybe I am not that cookie-cutter mould. Yet.
Ultra-cool. Even my socks smell good.
Go through life like a flashing car.
Sing.
Then you realise that the headlights are for warning.
And maybe its too late.
But you should be more clever than that?

I decide(ed) what I want.
To let go of the outside.
Slowly strips down to white.
Show my grisly white bones gleaming.
Then fill it all up inside.
Like a cushy firehole.
Enveloping it in.
Uncool uncool is the forever cool.
Whats fundamentally not in is never out.

Do you think
that actually people dont really want to know your quirks?
Or the so-presented quirky side of you.
Normacy is quirky now
since everyone (generalisation) is striving for quirky.
Of course i know u do all these things lah.
But if you are afraid to bare all (the smelly bits)
then dont bare at all
Either, Or.
No exchange rate available.

I decide(ed)
I am real lucky.
I know it.
Deep down inside.
Rounds of comparison
and he still won
Kudos to him
Despising for me.
I am still so masked-up.

Maybe if I break out of my circle circle
I can find my talent.
I hope I do have a speciality.
I must have.
The Bible says so.

I wonder if we are amusing to God.
or just plain heart-wrenching.

Two perspectives.
Both low-life.

The highest I cant even see.
cant even feel
cant even sense.

i hate it so much
hate hate it so so much
that there is none of me
there there is none of me of me
it is it is all about you
i am the ego
you are the super-ego
i am the IT.

he doesnt know which one of me he miss
doesnt he know which is the real me
the one that have waterfalls
that one that stare-li-ly
this one that write.

28 jan 2008:

words lose their meaning
when used too often
say it to him
say it to her, them
the words i only say to you
become just words and nothing else.


the words i only say to you
cant be seen, cant be heard
you can only let it linger in your mouth
and decide if it is.

Maybe

maybe it is just the way it is.
the blossom sets upon the emerald stone.

maybe
I am set to march this path.
to feel, to smile silly-lee-ly.

the bare shoulders.

finally
I think I know what I want.

Bare Shoulders.

the smell of jasmine not.
the smell of me
of me
of me.
not another character in the novel.

i am alive.
they are not.

I can go out there and die.
they cant.
they are not even alive.

you are breathing heavily.

I detest

me feeling this way.
me.
superficial me.




it is not you
it is me.



so clique but true.



I once thought I knew what I want.
That what I want isn't what the world wants.

I am wrong.
I want much more.

It terrifies me.


I admire
Admire those who dare to admit
admit what I am masking.


I want to be a princess who feeds on morning dew and sleep in a fluffy white bed.

I am sorry.

I know these aren't the words that you want to hear.

But it is the words that is most true to my heart.

and is the fairest to you.


I am such a messed up ball.
Full of unraveling colors and threads
pushing on till it aren't even a ball anymore
just random threads
pretty so not
complete so not
tears save not.

Gatsby

He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp agin like the mind of God.

So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star.

Then he kissed her.

At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

Maybe I will keep on walking on and on,
on and on, looking for things I cant touch,
for smells that shot right up my head,
till I cant feel anymore,
cant see anymore,
cant touch anymore



wont want anymore.

Oroonoko

A hundred white men sighing after her, and making a thousand vows at her feet, all in vain, and unsuccessful.

He was infinitely surprised at the beauty of this fair Queen of Night, whose face and person was so exceeding all he had ever beheld, that lovely modesty with which she received him, that softness in her look and sighs, upon the melancholy occasion of this honor that was done by so great a man as Oroonoko, and a prince of whom she had heard such admirable things; the awfulness wherewith she received him, and the sweetness of her words and behavior while he staid, gained a perfect conquest over his fierce heart, and made him feel the victor could be subdued.


He made her vows she should be the only woman he would possess while he lived; that no age or wrinkles should incline him to change; for her soul would be always fine, and always young; and he should have an eternal idea in his mind of the charms she now bore; and should look into his heart for that idea, when he could find it no longer in her face.


She was the most beautiful that ever had been seen, and had besides all the sweetness and innocence of youth and modesty, with a charm of wit surpassing all.


She denies us all with such a noble disdain that 'tis a miracle to see that she who can give such eternal desires should herself be all ice and unconcern. She is adorned with the most graceful modesty that ever beautified youth; the softest sigher- that, if she were capable of love, one would swear she languished for some absent happy man; and so retired as if she feared a rape even from the god of day, or that the breezes would steal kisses from her delicate mouth.

I want to conquer the world!
I want to dance till I drop!
I want to cut open my eyes and swallow in all the colours of the rainbow!


I dont want to be tied to the hot air balloon.


I want to smell the crispness of the grass, feel the soft soil on my dancing soles, hear litling laugthers, swishs my white gown around and fly up to the sky, myself :)


grin your widest grin.
grin till it hurts.

when beauty has no longer any words to describe
let me try with my pen with ill-concealed delight
the girl sitting in front of me asking for truth
asking me for assurance, asking me for proof
she wraps her black scarf tightly around her face
adorning her delicate features with the black lace
which was so silky, so fine just moments ago
now seems to have suddenly lost its lustrous glow.




The guy sitting in front of me
Have bony breakable fingers
That just wont break
Because that’s just the way it is.
It just wont break.

sent 28/10/2007 6:34 PM:

looking at your picture
is just not the same
of that im very sure
it's just another pretty face in a frame


other respites i try to find
traces of you that might be
yet fool i can't with my mind
it isn't the same beauty which i see


i can't see the orange moon
only the shape of your face
one day is not too soon
to hear your voice with it's grace


every bright star i see in the sky glitters and shines
and i wonder too if you will see the words that are mine

(and so pretty wini give a prelly,
to stop him from being so smelly.)

The Doctor: I understand, all right. The hopeless dream of being - not seeming, but being. At every waking moment, alert. The gulf between what you are with others and what you are alone. The vertigo and the constant hunger to be exposed, to be seen through, perhaps even wiped out. Every inflection and every gesture a lie, every smile a grimace. Suicide? No, too vulgar. But you can refuse to move, refuse to talk, so that you don't have to lie. You can shut yourself in. Then you needn't play any parts or make wrong gestures. Or so you thought. But reality is diabolical. Your hiding place isn't watertight. Life trickles in from the outside, and you're forced to react. No one asks if it is true or false, if you're genuine or just a sham. Such things matter only in the theatre, and hardly there either. I understand why you don't speak, why you don't move, why you've created a part for yourself out of apathy. I understand. I admire. You should go on with this part until it is played out, until it loses interest for you. Then you can leave it, just as you've left your other parts one by one.

it is beyond me.

how someone can treat love
with such frivolity,
play it like a newfound toy,
toss it like a piece of
crushed paper in the sky.
don't think i'll ever


understand

little lantern in your hand,
the light flickering within,
the walls of coloured paper,
shielded from the outside wind.

you wave it around gaily,
and i told you be careful
for you might never know,
if the fire might burn you.

the bright colours of the lantern,
shimmer red, blue, yellow.
oh so pretty you say,
and i reply yes it is so.

then the light starts to dim,
much to our dismay.
the candle's burnt down,
no longer lighting our way.

these fleeting moments are
sweet like the scent of thyme.
but things don't last forever,
especially the happy times.

Summer of Youth

Insecure the maiden is
Searching for a reason
Looking for people to lie
Yet know she does not
That flowers weep sore
As her shadow passes by.

As I watch her drift by.

The maiden is looking for
The wind that never goes away,
The flower that will not wither,
The tree that will stand tall,
And the love that will not die.

Try as she might
She cannot get hold of the tail of the wind
That will bring her away
She only wants to be free
But the wind evades her still.

The wind blows softly in her ear,

The wind blows across her face
Twirls her hair a mess of tangles
Whispers gently in her ear
But never does he take a step
nor heed her gentle plea

Whispering

Why is that
We don’t ask
When the leaves fall
When the mimosa starts to sow

With its little white angel wings
We will know

That lovely is the sunset
Lovely
Is that
Summer of Youth.

And he goes,
Did I fool you.
Was it you who said the words
that mean nothing to me.

The little bird who
told us about the
irresitable attraction
between youandme.

Who is to say,
like a prize to be fought for,
Who will win -
the drummer's boy or the.

And it is finally said. He looked at her. She thought of sea crashing, lonely walks, his slumpy shoulders when he walked, ducky swaying from side to side. She smiled. He thinked again and again as if thoughts can be controlled, as if our silliness can be washed away, as if words really mean their weight. She dreamed of this day. She felt all her cells shutting down. For it is finished.

When you are his whole world,

When he carry your heart with his hands,

When he sees your soul,

when he sees beauty in your imperfections.

when

suddenly,

everything

i want this train to break down.
i wonder what will happen if you go away.
will my heart skip abit?
i dont know what i want.
i thought i knew.
but once i got it,
i keep on wanting more and more.

insatisfable.

i want the whole world to be turn upside down.
i want it to be splased with paint.
do it now.
for me.

i want to inhabit your thoughts.but i dont want to be caught in it.

i want to be free.

When people say they love and care for me.
Why do I doubt them.
What have I become.

Or have I been too naive all along.

You glow in your own special way,
that render the rest dark in shadow,
such that you brighten up the day,
just the person you,
and I, know.