Does It Matter?

Last night as I was editing a graphic work, my little sis came into my room just to chat a little – that’s her way, before going to bed, of getting connected with me, and I never ask her why but only making jest like “Do you miss me or what?” She always takes a fancy to cellphones, my PSP, computers, and even “created” a fake notebook with a broken, steel-made color pencil case so she can be “one of us.”

Standing next to me, all of a sudden  (that’s also one of her little ways) she started fiddling with the keyboards – she just couldn’t help herself – I jumped up and shouted “What are you doing?!”

She questioned me with “Does that matter?”

“OF COURSE it matters!!!”

“No, family matters more.” – she replied with a naive and casual tone, then went downstairs, leaving me wondering “Well, ain’t that a kick in the head…”

What a kid, and she just turns 8.

Filed under: thoughts, child, family, kid, prose, story, thought, writing

Why writing?

I write because I don’t understand, things change, I’m always agitated and melancholy, and it seems the only option I’ve got to get a bit closer to all the classical writers who I can trust, rely on and whose friendship I can always feel secure with and proud of.

Filed under: thoughts, thoughts, writing

Back again

This blog has long been neglected, on purpose, or just out of forgetfulness; but since the desire and habit of reading and keeping a journal (physical diary and pen) have been working together so harmoniously — maybe the thoughts that I’m on a different, imaginary phase of life plays a part in this as well — I think it would be a nice idea to keep this blog alive, at least for the present. The thought of no audience used to bothered me, but no more; I kind of realize that what’s even worse is that I am the one who rudely, pitilessly and harmfully ignore myself, and that could have been a sin, a guilt (I don’t really know the difference).

Yesterday when I was sitting and reading Fernando Pessoa in the local library, my absent-mindedness carried my sight to my left hand, to my surprise I don’t remember when is the last time I really take a good look at myself and that made my heart sink for a couple of seconds, and then it feels like I have suddenly become so small, unimportant yet my consciousness grew so rich and free — even just temporarily.

Pray, let the time keeps going slowly, silently, ’cause I’m going with it, as long as I’m breathing.

 

Filed under: thoughts, consciousness, narrative, prose, time

Verse: come mock me

A couple of days ago when I was checking out my deviantART messages, I saw someone put me in their watchlist, which is kind of rare so I have to know a bit more about this stranger. After a few seconds’ trip, I came to realize it’s all just a fraud!

This young lady only has 2 deviations, one is a rather poor drawing, and another one, which is also her deviantART ID, is a very large pic of her, with a pair of rather big eyes, thin pink lips and long blond hairdo. She has been a member for about 10 months, but got more than 20,000 page views, and tons of tons of comments at the right column, each stating that how glad they are for being added in watchlist , but none of which has been answered. i blocked this one immediately, I had to ’cause nothing disgusts me more than pretension, lies and frauds. People like them do nothing but harms to a creative communities like this, and what’s worse is that they even flatter themselves for being so smart and highly admired and praised by their ill behavior. But thanks to her, I had a bit of pleasure of sharing this story with you and compose a short verse as well. (read more.. )

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come mock me (I will)
mock me with your smile,
your eyes and fake generosity. (jealous?)

come tease me (I will)
tease me with your photo,
your hairdo and popularity. (I’m fabulous!)

people need people like you
to know the evils
and they also need you
to love themselves more and
shield themselves from your
smile, hairdo, (jealous?)
eyes, and photo. (I’m famous!)

Filed under: thoughts, verse, "human nature", fame, people, thought, vanity, verse, woman, writing

詩: 五點十分

花了些時間寫這作品為了參加個詩文比賽
可惜連個入圍的機會也沒 很少寫中文作品 但這篇至少有我想傳達的意念
至於韻味呢 留給你品嘗

I spent some time finishing this bad poem for a contest, with “Ocean, MRT and Happiness” as themes. Of course I didn’t make it to the TOP, I guess it’s because I rarely write in Chinese, at least it carries the emotion and thought I try to express. As for doing an English version? No way I’m capable of doing that without losing the beauty of Chinese language.

五點零二分 我還在等待
微糖少冰中杯的珍奶
五點零六分 我還走在
紛紛擾擾繁華的巷弄
紅光 綠燈 街角 轉身
你已站在出口那 五點零九分
列車班班 又準又快
我的焦慮與不安 只愁耗在那人擠人的冷飲站
你問 現在幾點了
我答 五點又十分

Filed under: poetry, thoughts, verse, Chinese, city, contest, 生活, emotion, 詩, life, love, people, poem, relationship, time, translation, 城市, 時間, 中文, 人

There is a first for everything…

So here I am, starting a new webblog exclusively for my writing and expecting nothing dramatic at all. My attitude about writing is quite similar with that of the Argentinian writer, Jorge Luis Borges, who thinks that what he’s read matters more than what he has written. Consequently, not only I give my blog an odd name, but my idea and ideal for my writing will always be the same: for the pleasure of those who read, and for me.

Filed under: thoughts, introduction, thoughts, writing