以前写的

只是今天心情实在太糟糕，不得不发泄一下，排出一点点内心的垃圾。 下午和晚上又找了若干人抱怨。真是不好。什么时候开始我成了这么啰里啰唆的人了呢。我以前好像不爱抱怨的，想起来似乎还有那种打碎了牙齿往肚里吞好了的义气豪情。现在倒好，见人就开始倒垃圾，活脱脱又一个祥林嫂。浪费自己时间不说，还要白白搭上别人的。 所幸抱怨完了，还能从聪明的人那里得到一些理解，从善良的人那里得到一些宽慰，从聪明且善良的人那里得到一些建设性建议，从不那么聪明不那么善良的人那里得到一些怜悯的目光。不管得到什么，可以肯定的是，就那么一些材料，抱怨的次数多了，什么表象的浅显的隐藏的潜在的肮脏的腌臜的新奇的深层的东西都挖掘完了。于是心情似乎好点。虽然，其实，问题还是在那里；而我被立定在前的它和接踵而至的它们，虎视着，挑衅着，斜睨着，嘲笑着。
跑到这里来又倒了一次垃圾，对不起观众了，即使不是人人都能看得明白中文。我只是自私天真的希望着：把自己的耳朵蒙住，眼睛盖上，我就可以暂时不用理会；心里的垃圾倒出来，美梦便不会被破坏被排挤。想像这样一种情景，阿Q用着Scarlet的口气说：after all... tomorrow is another day.

three and half humours

I read a funny Chinese article today. The female writer, who is apparently a big fan of Hippocrates and his four humors theory, had dated a few guys but found out, disappointedly enough, that none of them was not of Choleric type. The funny part is, she concluded then that all the dating websites could have done a much better job if they would include each member's 4 humors checkup info, rather than putting too much effort in trying to trick the members revealing their 3 measurements. With the 4 humors info in hand, it can in fact be an excellent guide for social interaction, for example, do not get angry with people who have a little redundant yellow bile; do not date Phlegmatic guys; try to balance the right amount of black bile, a little more then gloomy, a little less then gaudy. And since nobody is happy anyway, this is an era marked by global collective anemia.

haha..... here is my humours profile;

phlegm: 30%
yellow bile: 30%
black bile: 30%
blood: 10%
summary: DANGER! away from the subject!

but I think I am oftenly happy. I am especially happy after a delicious fulfilling meal. Just like the way how Mosquitos feel, supremely happy when they get abundant blood supply. A question is, though, Mosquitos are really happy because they've got lots of blood or they are not happy and need blood because they actually suffer from anemia all the time?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_humours

Spoiled

This is a dream I had last night. Somehow I and the other girls from my college class gathered together in a ridiculously small kitchen and were preparing a meal together. Although which in reality would not likely happen any time soon, I did wish i could hear again the sound of water briskly streaming down the faucet, in that small crowded kitchen. Everybody was happy and we chatted, randomly, aimlessly, meaninglessly, just like what we would do a few years ago. It really takes no effort to picture how everybody talks, 'cause they've been tatooed in my mind. Then J said something, with her usual tone, calm, sometimes a little sardonic. But somehow these words upsetted my ears, in a way, i don't remember at all. They sounded colder than calm, as if they were blown off her nose. They sounded tired, as if they took lots of effort to finally get through. So i said something back. And of course she said something back again. Although i have no idea what she and I had said up to this point, what she said then, right at that moment, saddened me so much that i woke up right away. And even upon having realized that was just a dream, the burden of sadness still didn't get a bit off my head at all.

She said: YQ, you are getting spoiled!

S--P--O--I--L--E--D! The whole day, this was roaring in my ears, in every minute of peace I get between works. It was so devastateingly sad that i surrendered myself immediately and completely lost the will to analyze. Untill later, after I have stuffed myself a huge cookie with chunks of chocolates in it, I mustered a little courage to look at it and think through. I started to ask what exactly getting spoiled means? Am I like a box of Tofu curd, left at a wretched place, getting spoiled? Though she seemed to mean that I'm so screwed up but i don't even know it myself. But I thought i knew. Were there more problems that I haven't realized yet. I do not have the guts to look at my problems so i insist on ignoring them, pretending they don't exist? But I am trying to look up. oh so confusing! I better ask her later tonight when I sleep. But i'm not sad any more. hmm. yummm... chocolate is good.

第三件事情和星期天

星期天于我而言总是无一例外的灰色。今天当然也是，尤其是。今天我突然意识到这些天来我一直很难过的真正原因。一言以蔽之：在我希望得到一个怀抱以依靠一小会的时候，我没能得到；在我仍然希望着的时候，却发现这其实是一个多么可望而不可即的奢望。就好像生病了却没有可心的人来照顾自己的时候，自然是很难过落寞。即使是稍后身子好了，心里面挥之不去的还是当时的自怨自怜。

一直试图说服自己，没有什么坎是迈不过去的。如果是从来都一帆风顺的人，碰上一件稍稍棘手的事情，恐怕便觉得是世界末日，怨天尤人。稍后若要同时处理两件麻烦事，回头看，却觉得只有一件事情要处理其实很幸运。我现在努力安慰着自己，还好没有第三件很麻烦的事情呢，所以两件事情也没什么的呀。这样子想实际上并没有对事情困难程度有任何减缓。但是也许可以让自己耐心一点，一步一步慢慢来。要冷静一些，勇敢一些，振作一些。可是心里还是会不由自主地发虚，然后又被紧张不安胀满。心虚的难受，飘飘的。胀的也难受，沉沉的。很难受。难受到无能为力。无能为力到绝望。绝望到丧失勇气。真的无能为力，我所做得依然只是麻痹自己，彻底逃跑。

晚上发现以前坏掉的手机奇迹般的好了。哈哈。也许绝处逢生真是有道理的。察看以前自己写的短信，发现这么一段话：化成了糊，没有思想；化成了泥，没有力气。化成了自己在无力哭泣；化成了自己在快乐再堕落。忘记掉前一封相关短信具体写了什么了，无非是和那一段感情有关的。虽然是完全不相干的事情，这些话用在现时我的处境倒也一点不过时。我每天花费时间和精力于无病呻吟。于走出困境全无帮助。或许可以说是缺乏勇气，或许可以说是无能为力。那么就让我再一次自欺欺人地说：it is the suffereing that makes you a beautiful person. 那么就让我满心盼望着第三件事情的到来吧。

a glove called clover

it didn't have a name. i named it after i lost it. It had nothing to do with clover either. i just thought of if there would be a pretty five-leaf clover ever.

but i still have one glove left and don't know what to do with it. I don't want to put it high on the shelf in closet, 'cause that way it does nothing but to collect dust. I don't want to not to put it away so that i can see it often and be reminded that i lost clover. I don't want to just throw it away, so that i'll have to name it also later on and bear the name of heartless that i forced a pair of cute gloves to separate. I don't want to pair it up with other single gloves not only that would look ridiculous but it is indeed very ridiculous.

i wonder where clover is. i am worried. it may get no shelter. raindrops will drench it. sunlight will wither it. wind can tear it. lightning can scare it. I don't know if it cries for company. i wonder why i didn't just lose both of them. that way at least they can be with each other.

my treasure box

i have a collection of precious things. they bring back good times, memorable times. these are times when they make me smile. times when they make me cry. times when they make me tougher. times when they make me feel that i matter.

the most recent treasure i put into my treasure box is "I'm just sad and depressed for you... if you need someone to be there, I'll be more than happy to." a few words i heard earlier today between 6:50pm and 7pm in office.

I can't remember very well exactly when i collected the rest of my treasures though. But more importantly i do remember what all these treasures meant to me each single time when i acquired them. There was a hug I got from K when i felt really bad after talking to the boss. There was a grab of my arm from Z when the suddenly turning bus almost swung me to the floor. There was a phone call I got from J when i was stressed out upon graduating from college. There were a few words that i heard while watching movie JFK with M...... so many of them. i can never finish the list. i'm just thankful too all these precious things. even when i couldn't correlate any of these precious items with any current ongoing issue, i would still be basking myself in the shine of my treasure box.

lost in translation

is a movie that does not make a bit sense to happy people but certainly shakes lots of senses out of people who otherwise are not so happy. I almost forgot about it since I have been trying so hard to pretend that I'm indeed a happy person, to the extent I even fooled myself into believing in that. Yet when it was mentioned over a casual conversation a few days ago, I had no place to hide, the sounds of loneliness echoed in my ears, the images of silence flashed in my head.

Got back home, went ahead to my movie corner, dug out the movie, dusted the dvd box, put the movie into the player, sat down and watched it again... I can't say the sadness one would pile up upon discovering some cruel reality was heavy enough. But the buoyant steam of the tea i made at starting the movie did turn into coldness in the end.

it is just unbearable to even imagine a tiny bit that how love can so easily slip away from people who were once in love. and how confusing and vulnerable people can be when they get lost. I was lost once in the busy streets of new york city. It was a sunny afternoon. I was walking on the sideway. and happy i think. And all of a sudden, a flow of bitterness run over me. it was probably more like a stroke, with one heart beat missing. I was lost in the roaring crowd. I didn't understand why there were so many people appearing on the same spot at the same time. and Why did i need to be here in this foreign city. why and why these people, this city had anything to do with me. would i be able to came out of the crowd or do i even want to come out at all? The high-rise buidlings on the sides of the busy streets were quiet. They didn't answer me. Probably they've seen enough and are tired of it. They just casted their equaly silent shadows down. but the shadows were so heavy on my shoulder. I could not find a way out. I could not see the sky. I could not breathe. Sure, it was only a moment of sadness. yet it was powerful enough to hit me into a momentary paralysis. Everything seemed so strange so intimidating. I was lost.

The ending of the movie was sort of a happy one though. They kissed, a memorable kiss of many meanings. They each then went back to their own normal life, knowing that they were found by each other at the times when they were lost. and the sweet warm memory will be alive ever.

addict

to some extent, more or less, slightly more or slightly less, a lot more or a lot less, everybody is an addict. And I'm just the biggest addict ever. I rely on so many things so much so surprisingly that I'd completely turn into an ugly stack of skeleton if I ever lose any one of my addictions.

For example the first thing i do after getting to work is to turn on my computer and surf online. More often than not, after i finished checking a few regularly visited websites, I immediately found myself in emptiness. sigh. not knowing what to do. not knowing what to think about. the typical symptom: anxiety--what to do what to do---->depression--nothing to do nothing to do---->momentary momentum--find something to do find something to do---->impatience--can't find anything to do can't find anything to do---->surrender--there is nothing to do there is nothing to do---->complete despair--i'll just read whatever meaningless things i just read a few minutes ago.

I guess maybe i'm not addictive to lots of thing but just addictive to doing meaningless things although i might sound detesting this idea yet subconsciously and practically never stop exercising it. But indeed what a great addiction it is! if i could just sleep on problems i better face. what a great addiction it is! if I could just not worry about finding solutions. what a great addiction it is! even if it's just one minute of peace. what a great addiction it is! if i could just keep feeding myself candies! who needs to know there is bitterness anyway?

i better go sleep again! and sleep good sleep lot! at least in dreams i see heaven, where people only addict to meaningful things, very meaningful.

2 discoveries

I'm not sure what other people do when they have a difficult time to fall asleep, for various reasons. As for me, i don't count the white fluffy sheep, I don't get up and drink warm milk, I don't read obscure stuff to depress my active neurons, I don't indulge myself in the calm relaxing stress-relief crap, also called aromatherapy... I took pills once or twice...I drank alcohol several times...although both were under extreme conditions. But more than often, i don't really do anything, just close my eyes, wait... and wait...ing...... peacefully blankly, or not so with occasional toss-and-turns, until sleepbugs strike. Yet one night, while i was doing the same routine, allowing myself doing nothing thinking of nothing, I opened my eyes. I couldn't say exactly why, other than i was curious if I was able to "see" myself falling asleep. Perhaps... in fact the split second I opened my eyes wide and looked up, i started picturing scenes already. I see light in darkness! I see yellowish white halo above my head! and no, I was not dreaming. It wasn't illusional. and yes I was still awake. It was real. There they were, on the slanted wall, shinny stars right above me. One, two, three.... 12 of them. Instinctively, i reached out my hand......

If i stop right here, I'd only remember what a nice surprise it was although people would think that i'm crazy. and if i go on... the boring nature of almost everything lashes out. No mercy in diligently whipping my rebellious mind-adventure... so... maybe i shall not finish up the story by telling that the shiny stars were actually fluorescence paper cut into star-shapes sticking to the wall... oops...

perhaps i will get more of those cute little stars... if beaten enough.

1st entry

Sitting in the present, looking at the past. sadness happiness... the vivid colors the crysp voices once flourishing, all faded away, irretrievable eventually. nothing seems to have ever existed. except all the illusions filled in one's mind, or memories, if you prefer to call it that way.

but memories, memory might be the biggest lier ever. I always wonder: if my eyes and my ears switch locations, if my heart and my mind swap places, and i am still this honest person to myself, would my memory, those images, those voices, still be the same?

and how sad it is to be able to go back to space but never time? On the seashore, I picked up a rock, inscribed with characters i can't recognize.