2009年6月29日星期一
2009年2月2日星期一
2009年1月23日星期五
Die now
Sometimes I think it's actually not bad to die now, to die at this second. Or perhaps, even quite nice to. If I die now, I'll die with all the possibilities, untested, unrealized. And among them only the good ones matter when u're dead. And the good ones would only seem very likely, pitifully and sadly. "Only if he didn't die this young, he would have become a great, erm, I dunno, whatever sounds successful."
So, if I die now, I'll be, and die a successful-person-to-be; but if I live, and fail, and age, I can very well become a miserable old loser, and die one. It's pathetic to be bitter about ur dreams without trying to make them come true. It's miserable to try and fail and be perhaps as bitter. So perhaps to die with dreams remained dreams without able to try is the best solution, yes?
Well I'm just wondering.
So, if I die now, I'll be, and die a successful-person-to-be; but if I live, and fail, and age, I can very well become a miserable old loser, and die one. It's pathetic to be bitter about ur dreams without trying to make them come true. It's miserable to try and fail and be perhaps as bitter. So perhaps to die with dreams remained dreams without able to try is the best solution, yes?
Well I'm just wondering.
2009年1月11日星期日
The Spot
There is a spot near the entrance of the building I live in. The spot where a woman reached, from the wall of a corridor of the building, where it was a little lower and one could climb up to. It took only seconds, I suppose. To reach that spot from some ten floors above, traveling by gravity. The spot was surrounded with "POLICE" tapes and forbidden for a day. And the security guards burned scents and other stuffs for the dead for a few days too.
The spot is near the entrance and part of the shortest path from the building to the bus stops behind it. It was not like that you must get through that spot to go behind the building. But you can imagine that you can't jump from a building and land 10 meters away from it, you land near it. In fact I think it feels like landing below the building, as near the spot there are covered areas extended from the building. So I often stepped on, and I still do, that very spot where her body crashed and cracked, and where blood was shed all over.
The strange thing is, I couldn't feel that terrible incident at all going to skool getting through that spot, at all, even with the knowledge of all these. Even with witnessing the "POLICE" tapes and the security guards burning stuffs with my eyes, even with also some bits of the woman's story, and my parents talking about the incident.
How could I not, why could I not?
That spot was where someone's life ended, where a living body was turned into some inanimate, heavy flesh and leaking, darkening blood. Even with as violent a death like this, there was no trace of death, or life, to be remained and remembered. How come? Do things that happened only exist in the past?
Erm, what am I writing? I didn't start the post to talk about such things. Let's start again.
I left home at 3AM or something like that tonight, when mother n father went to bed. To smoke and, I dunno, have a moonlit walk perhaps? To think, I guess. Cos I thought a lot. About lots of stuffs. And I looked at that spot, and wondered about many things.
If things happened to a spot, a place, a thing, can mean nothing to the present like that, then, what about to a person? Hmmmmmm too long already for a to-get-myself-sleepy post.
The spot is near the entrance and part of the shortest path from the building to the bus stops behind it. It was not like that you must get through that spot to go behind the building. But you can imagine that you can't jump from a building and land 10 meters away from it, you land near it. In fact I think it feels like landing below the building, as near the spot there are covered areas extended from the building. So I often stepped on, and I still do, that very spot where her body crashed and cracked, and where blood was shed all over.
The strange thing is, I couldn't feel that terrible incident at all going to skool getting through that spot, at all, even with the knowledge of all these. Even with witnessing the "POLICE" tapes and the security guards burning stuffs with my eyes, even with also some bits of the woman's story, and my parents talking about the incident.
How could I not, why could I not?
That spot was where someone's life ended, where a living body was turned into some inanimate, heavy flesh and leaking, darkening blood. Even with as violent a death like this, there was no trace of death, or life, to be remained and remembered. How come? Do things that happened only exist in the past?
Erm, what am I writing? I didn't start the post to talk about such things. Let's start again.
I left home at 3AM or something like that tonight, when mother n father went to bed. To smoke and, I dunno, have a moonlit walk perhaps? To think, I guess. Cos I thought a lot. About lots of stuffs. And I looked at that spot, and wondered about many things.
If things happened to a spot, a place, a thing, can mean nothing to the present like that, then, what about to a person? Hmmmmmm too long already for a to-get-myself-sleepy post.
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