How is it that things don't always go the way we want them to?
How is it that the night went on the way neither of us understood what to do with it?
How is it that people love you without ever telling you?
How is it that the wonder of life frightens me at unimaginable times?
How is it that I could love you without having to know you by heart?
How is it that we walked across the city without a word exchanged between us?
How is it that the cats and dogs sleep in silence?
How is it that the cat waits by the veranda, overlooking the park and my lonely silhouette?
How is it that I had no choice but to imagine life in the absence of my very beloved?
How is it that you shall remain a mystery to me, for the rest of the times that we will meet and fall for each other?
How is it that the night continued to be special, without you by my side?
Friday, August 31, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Why Act Three?
A month or two into our friendship, Leslie sat me down to tell me a story. "I don't tell this to many people," she prefaced.
It was a practiced story, I could tell, by the way she moved from plot point to plot point neatly and linearly – by the way she elaborated on the most distressing things as if she were reading from a moving, but familiar, book.
I was 21 then, and Leslie 20. If Leslie freaked when she found out I was a senior – I think her word was "immature" – I often stood in awe of the centeredness she possessed for her age.
In listening to her story, I learned that at the age of 20, she had already lost a mother and moved to another country, adopted a new culture. She had not only scrambled to survive, but worked hard to succeed. She seemed to have gone through more at that age than what some people will experience in a lifetime.
Leslie has an affinity for the literary, appropriately, because her life sometimes reads like a story. She asked me to think of a title for her blog. I thought, if her childhood in Taiwan was Act I of her life, and her maturation into adulthood in the U.S. was Act II, then her return to Taiwan and her search for a place to plant her feet makes a pretty compelling Act Three.
I can only say that I'll be here to read it.
—Andy
It was a practiced story, I could tell, by the way she moved from plot point to plot point neatly and linearly – by the way she elaborated on the most distressing things as if she were reading from a moving, but familiar, book.
I was 21 then, and Leslie 20. If Leslie freaked when she found out I was a senior – I think her word was "immature" – I often stood in awe of the centeredness she possessed for her age.
In listening to her story, I learned that at the age of 20, she had already lost a mother and moved to another country, adopted a new culture. She had not only scrambled to survive, but worked hard to succeed. She seemed to have gone through more at that age than what some people will experience in a lifetime.
Leslie has an affinity for the literary, appropriately, because her life sometimes reads like a story. She asked me to think of a title for her blog. I thought, if her childhood in Taiwan was Act I of her life, and her maturation into adulthood in the U.S. was Act II, then her return to Taiwan and her search for a place to plant her feet makes a pretty compelling Act Three.
I can only say that I'll be here to read it.
—Andy
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Incomplete
When life gets difficult, I forget what it means to be special. I forget the light and the gift people see in me. I forget how powerful language can be. I forget what I have in me that draw the extraordinaire to me.
The very truth is that I am terrified. I am scared out of my mind about what is to become of this life, about living a life with regrets, about going straight ahead without having the direction mesmerized.
I forget easily. Too easily. I forget to stride ahead, with my head tilted upward, with a fearless look, with undefeatable confidence. I forget life goes on, I forget people love, I forget to love.
But when life gets difficult, what do I know? What do I really know that will possibly make a difference in my life? Change me, move me, become the better part of me? What do I know about being distinguished? About being the one in control? About being powerful? About being strong?
But the truth no longer matters, the cold harsh truth. It no longer matters.
The very truth is that I am terrified. I am scared out of my mind about what is to become of this life, about living a life with regrets, about going straight ahead without having the direction mesmerized.
I forget easily. Too easily. I forget to stride ahead, with my head tilted upward, with a fearless look, with undefeatable confidence. I forget life goes on, I forget people love, I forget to love.
But when life gets difficult, what do I know? What do I really know that will possibly make a difference in my life? Change me, move me, become the better part of me? What do I know about being distinguished? About being the one in control? About being powerful? About being strong?
But the truth no longer matters, the cold harsh truth. It no longer matters.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
I have a story to tell. So that’s how the story began.
I may or may not give the whole of myself. To you. To a faithful reader as far as you.
I may not tell the truth. About myself. About how life works in wonder. About how they have changed me, about how I have been convinced that life isn’t always about just me.
I may or may not tell the truth. I may or may not give the whole of myself to you, to someone as far as you.
I have a story to tell. So I began the story, about the loves found and lost along the way, about the men and the women, about how the world was changed overnight, in an instant, about the grownups, the children, the father.
Were you entranced? Were you fascinated? Were you heartbroken?
Would you have understood?
I may or may not give the whole of myself. To you. To a faithful reader as far as you.
I may not tell the truth. About myself. About how life works in wonder. About how they have changed me, about how I have been convinced that life isn’t always about just me.
I may or may not tell the truth. I may or may not give the whole of myself to you, to someone as far as you.
I have a story to tell. So I began the story, about the loves found and lost along the way, about the men and the women, about how the world was changed overnight, in an instant, about the grownups, the children, the father.
Were you entranced? Were you fascinated? Were you heartbroken?
Would you have understood?
I am not yet ready to speak with you, to speak to you as if nothing has happened, as if the hurtful conversation never took place, as if life really could go on this easily, as if the world has not yet crumbled beneath our feet.
I am not yet prepared to deal with the brokenness that you made me feel, the defense you had against me, the silence, the drama, the questionable infidelity.
I am not armed.
I am not teamed.
I am just me, alone, silent, feared.
I am not ready to apologize, to go away, to turn my back on you.
Nor am I ready to be healed, to love in spite of myself, to forgive.
I am not anyone else.
I am not yet prepared to deal with the brokenness that you made me feel, the defense you had against me, the silence, the drama, the questionable infidelity.
I am not armed.
I am not teamed.
I am just me, alone, silent, feared.
I am not ready to apologize, to go away, to turn my back on you.
Nor am I ready to be healed, to love in spite of myself, to forgive.
I am not anyone else.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Dreaming is very pleasant as long as you are not forced to put your dreams into practice. That way, we avoid all the risks, frustrations and difficulties, and when we are old, we can always blame other people- preferably our parents, our spouses or our children- for our failure to realize our dreams.
- Paulo Coelho
- Paulo Coelho
I knew Coelho was talking about me instantly, speaking to me right in my face the moment I had the book open. I could easily be Maria, through her travels, her adventure, the heartbreaks. I too had spoken about the decisions that I had made, the dreams I had woven myself into, the disappointment and the loss that Maria had no choice (did she really not?) but to go throug life with.
It isn't supposed to be fair, so that's how they had life understood.
"Some people were born to face life alone, and this is neither good or bad, it is simply life. Maria is one of those people."
- Paulo Coelho
It isn't supposed to be fair, so that's how they had life understood.
"Some people were born to face life alone, and this is neither good or bad, it is simply life. Maria is one of those people."
- Paulo Coelho
Monday, August 13, 2007
I wish you love
An all time jazz favorite. The music takes you to a mysterious place. It's fascinating.
I Wish You Love
Artist: Rachael Yamagata
I wish you bluebirds in the spring
To give your heart a song to sing
And then a kiss, but more than this
I wish you love
And in July a lemonade
To cool you in some leafy glade
I wish you health
And more than wealth
I wish you love
My breaking heart and I agree
That you and I could never be
So with my best My very best
I set you free
I wish you shelter from the storm
A cozy fire to keep you warm
But most of all when snowflakes fall
I wish you love
But most of all when snowflakes fall
I wish you love
I Wish You Love
Artist: Rachael Yamagata
I wish you bluebirds in the spring
To give your heart a song to sing
And then a kiss, but more than this
I wish you love
And in July a lemonade
To cool you in some leafy glade
I wish you health
And more than wealth
I wish you love
My breaking heart and I agree
That you and I could never be
So with my best My very best
I set you free
I wish you shelter from the storm
A cozy fire to keep you warm
But most of all when snowflakes fall
I wish you love
But most of all when snowflakes fall
I wish you love
Sunday, August 12, 2007
I believe
眼前的黑不是黑 你說的白是什麼白
人們說的天空藍 是我記憶中那團白雲背後的藍天
─ 蕭煌奇
I have always believed that I would do great things. I would live an extraordinary life that becomes a legend to some. I would create, I would make wonderful things happen, I would inspire, I would be an icon, I would be proud. I would define the meaning of my life. I would fulfill. I would do them good. Make them proud.
人們說的天空藍 是我記憶中那團白雲背後的藍天
─ 蕭煌奇
I have always believed that I would do great things. I would live an extraordinary life that becomes a legend to some. I would create, I would make wonderful things happen, I would inspire, I would be an icon, I would be proud. I would define the meaning of my life. I would fulfill. I would do them good. Make them proud.
Friday, August 3, 2007
給g
親愛的g,
寫封情書給你
但我的筆怎麼寫不出鍾文音的動人詞句
寫不出攝人的情感
寫不出過去 寫不出思念 寫不出每日的追憶
親愛的g, 我想像你漫步在大阪街頭
想像迎面而來的關西女子
想像你猜測你無緣的我的故事
想像你低問我的近況
親愛的g, 你懷念的是涉世未深 終日鬱鬱的我
在冬日積雪的草地駐著拐杖赤裸地奔跑
在波光粼粼的查理斯河畔旁與你相守
在離開舞會的接駁車上哭泣 承受白人男子輕挑的我
我親愛的g,
你是不需要時間經過,也可以讓我有答案的人,但我依然覺得生命有你很好很好。(鍾文音)
我最最親愛的g,
於是時間證明你是對的
你的預言 你的信誓旦旦 都是對的
我沒有一日快樂
謝謝你鼓起勇氣萬般殘忍的對待 在離別時吐訴所有你知道的真相
在另一個城市呼吸著我的空氣 變態地回憶我的殘缺
在陌生的日本女子身體 霸道地撫摸我 佔有我
親愛的g啊
你依然是我最親愛的 我萬般地思念你 萬般地渴望擁有你
我的親愛的
我該怎麼在浩瀚的時間洪流裡 這樣自私地擁有你呢
寫封情書給你
但我的筆怎麼寫不出鍾文音的動人詞句
寫不出攝人的情感
寫不出過去 寫不出思念 寫不出每日的追憶
親愛的g, 我想像你漫步在大阪街頭
想像迎面而來的關西女子
想像你猜測你無緣的我的故事
想像你低問我的近況
親愛的g, 你懷念的是涉世未深 終日鬱鬱的我
在冬日積雪的草地駐著拐杖赤裸地奔跑
在波光粼粼的查理斯河畔旁與你相守
在離開舞會的接駁車上哭泣 承受白人男子輕挑的我
我親愛的g,
你是不需要時間經過,也可以讓我有答案的人,但我依然覺得生命有你很好很好。(鍾文音)
我最最親愛的g,
於是時間證明你是對的
你的預言 你的信誓旦旦 都是對的
我沒有一日快樂
謝謝你鼓起勇氣萬般殘忍的對待 在離別時吐訴所有你知道的真相
在另一個城市呼吸著我的空氣 變態地回憶我的殘缺
在陌生的日本女子身體 霸道地撫摸我 佔有我
親愛的g啊
你依然是我最親愛的 我萬般地思念你 萬般地渴望擁有你
我的親愛的
我該怎麼在浩瀚的時間洪流裡 這樣自私地擁有你呢
Crushed at last
I started writing online in 2002 when things at stake finally fell apart, fell into the open void that none of us could have any say. I wrote and documented the end of my loved ones' relationships, the crushed dreams, my crushed dreams, things that seemed to matter, things that brought us hope. I wrote and spoke about lives that I could have possibly changed, people that I would always love.
I continued to write in Japan, with L along side me. Strange as it sounds, L was there when I needed to hold onto someone. L stood by me, until the very last day. Yet, I continued to envy L. I questioned her right to be happy. I questioned everyone's right to be happy.
It ain't easy, honey. To live in anger and to live with so much hate.
I wrote to L. I missed her.
I always like to put it this way—L has and will always be in my thoughts.
L never responded. L hasn't.
The writing had to stop in 2004. I had to leave my sputnik sweetheart. I lost it in the world wide web. I let it go. I ended our relationship. I gave away my last source of comfort amidst a period of turmoil.
Dear God,
I don't ask very much from you.
Please. Do give me the strength to go on. Do give me the peace of mind that I am in a dire need for.
Dear God, you must understand. You must.
You must give me what I need. You must love me like how you love all the other children. You must give me the strength. You must love me.
I will then save myself. I will be able to. I will not mind the gaps, the hidden traps along the way, I will be strong enough to go on. I will fear no longer.
Dear God, I must have you in my heart. I must go on with you in my prayers.
And my loves, I will not give up on myself. I will continue to love you all, love them all. I shall not be crushed so easily.
I continued to write in Japan, with L along side me. Strange as it sounds, L was there when I needed to hold onto someone. L stood by me, until the very last day. Yet, I continued to envy L. I questioned her right to be happy. I questioned everyone's right to be happy.
It ain't easy, honey. To live in anger and to live with so much hate.
I wrote to L. I missed her.
I always like to put it this way—L has and will always be in my thoughts.
L never responded. L hasn't.
The writing had to stop in 2004. I had to leave my sputnik sweetheart. I lost it in the world wide web. I let it go. I ended our relationship. I gave away my last source of comfort amidst a period of turmoil.
Dear God,
I don't ask very much from you.
Please. Do give me the strength to go on. Do give me the peace of mind that I am in a dire need for.
Dear God, you must understand. You must.
You must give me what I need. You must love me like how you love all the other children. You must give me the strength. You must love me.
I will then save myself. I will be able to. I will not mind the gaps, the hidden traps along the way, I will be strong enough to go on. I will fear no longer.
Dear God, I must have you in my heart. I must go on with you in my prayers.
And my loves, I will not give up on myself. I will continue to love you all, love them all. I shall not be crushed so easily.
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