~~~ Let Angelos Be ~~~

One moment Sunday afternoon...

 

sounds a lil bit Sigur Ros..

looks a lil bit Julian Beever...

Puzzling...curdling...so lazy so I like...

“What makes the desert beautiful,” said the little prince, “is that somewhere it hides a well…”

Many times I couldn't see, the journey tortuous with too many thrones bristling on the way.
I wonder whether only the blood can color life in a striking red.
But you just smile, like a wisp of sunshine through the heavy clouds.
Lighting on a joss stick, let my best wish flying high and far, crossing the mist till the end of the flower land.
If striving is a virtue of remedy, I'd like to be there, cheering for you the storm before a rainbow fresh-ever.

               

Sometime we talk about growing up, face carved by the blade of time, nothing avoidable. Sometime we talk about being alone, heart longing for a hug of warmth; if it is a divine practice, whether this life is enough?

Maybe I think too often and too much, when I saw the blue light dancing like an elf, how much I admire that freedom of being. Everything is changing always as the way it is, triggering the little whirlpools to capture the last sense of rationality. Maybe there is a long journey ahead, no matter how much I like to stay. Maybe I have to say Yes, no matter how difficult for a hearty commitment.

I said "suffer", unintentionally, and regretted in your laugh.

When the shop girl wrapped the little gift with a paper of green, I breathed fresh. The seed of hope is deep in the heart, though it is still cold and windy under the gray sky, shouldn't be more cherishing to keep the meaning of that spot of sunshine?

Spring is coming...


                Cavalli2009 CopyRight@The New York Times

假期回来对吃喝玩乐失去了兴趣，连最爱的购物活动也不能幸免。开始努力动脑写字，等lala来，时间过的一会儿快一会儿慢。
花开了，感动的我想掉眼泪。还记得去年花一朵一朵凋谢时候大哭了一场，还是想感叹生命摧残人生啊。不过还是兴致勃勃的拍了照片，改成妖娆的样子放上来表表，发现自己还是贪恋色彩不能自拔，还是想在天冷的时候暖暖心情？

有人说，音乐是面镜子，自己是什么样就照出什么样。 朋友的弟弟是双子座，我眼中的极致，清清楚楚的两个角色，琴弦上指尖游走不加掩饰。

一直对两种人有敬而远之的洒脱，双子座人是其一。原因很朴素，拆析一个人难，拆析一人两面，何苦庸人自扰。

坐在屋子角落的阳光里，片刻的自己面对自己，悄悄话里荡掉假期前最后的休闲时光。 手里一张白纸一支笔，计划被失忆般的断断续续困扰，眼前轰轰烈烈的跑着的，过去的人，现在的人，过去的过客，现在的过客，还有自己，很多的自己带着不同的面孔努力在某个瞬间与众不同。想起那天与朋友争执，或许一人分饰多角就是本性，本性源于何，还是不了了之，再次怠惰，再次何苦庸人自扰。

耳边Room Eleven慢条斯理的唱着游戏，喜欢某人某事让我沉溺，只一首歌一遍一遍。如同千百个其它的偶然，WE的一个广告片，一个嗓音，进入一种生活的包容。人是倔强的，时时刻刻被其他人的世界磨擦着，纠缠着，没有还手的气力，却 一路修修补补，坚持在自己的轨道上去自己的终点，说服自己，带着笑。

两天，两个喜欢的演唱会，五百公里的距离，要不要再疯一次？

      

“就这样吧” 我说。
还能怎么样？

翻着以前的日志，是水模糊了的记录，还是看不清。幻想着有个对于将来的结论，荡秋千的日子让人上瘾。需要时间细细思考，plan A 和 plan B,  每个步骤，如何逃脱。需要勇气，某个瞬间手起刀落，然后清理现场，不要留一丝痕迹。

然后是下一场实验。

  

等待一个决定，试图逃走牵牵拌拌纠缠，本来与我无关，或是有关？
不停换着Facebook上的微笑，总想留下最灿烂的一个，留下片刻喘息，像瘾者不能自拔。
生活的乐趣就是迎接问题和解决问题，我学着这样劝朋友也劝自己。
把伪装着的Hello kitty放在旁边的坐位上，不要觉得孤单，一张单纯的脸，她和我，一个火红的房子，不知能走多远。
夏天走走停停，所有的计划，没有计划。
我想，想很多，出离了视线，只能笑自己庸人自扰。
KeKe两岁新生，妈妈买了蛋糕，爸爸点了蜡烛，我躲阁楼上爆米花，看乱马，做着针线活儿。
等待十月，去那个冰做的国家，期待一眼望不尽的水晶，还有天使空冷的歌声在空中飘。
想抓住时间，把拥抱中的片刻温存装在瓶子里，缝在衣服上，放在心里。
一张图片，一支歌，仿佛站在桥头，想抓住对岸的美，浪声不断。

I was trying to keep myself away from that story, and always persuaded myself it was still not the time, "You are not yet tat desperated!" so I told myself. As time stirred the sticky attitude milder and finally turned it into water, standing in the shadow of being careless and being forgotten I watched the sweet and sour ending of the entire story, with only once checking time during more than two hours. 

Yes, indeed it was a fingerprint exclusive for the feminal touches, excessively elaborated and extremely sentimental. It was surprisingly amazing to find myself there surrounded by girls, only girls, black or blonde, some wearing jeans and some wearing skirts, a little sobbing with a little laughing... The magic of a big screen story is to make we feel it is so real and it did happen on ourselves. It is nice to have chance to look back what on earth happened to us and an ending we should deserve, though not always enjoyable, feeling like a prick from the softest throne of a rose named "love".  So proud when we finally licked the blood and bandaged the wound, there was one moment illusion of forgetting, and unconsciously we will wake up the next time to look back, and the next prick is from a rose named "pride".

I m always wondering the way to balance the proud Lable and the devout Love. 30 minutes ago I had the last time to feel effortless and helpless, the last time till now. Staying in the circle, my snoring work, the fresh dark choco cookies without sugar, my high heels worn-out feet, the hearts so close but the cities with distance...if the blind insanity could be marked, I was an A-class student. Don't screw up the makeups; wear high heels and stand straight; keep smiling; open eyes and listen to heart; hold the faith for everything will be alright;  that should be the little crashes in my story. Where is my "Love" labeled key ring?

I feel so tired, my mind, so I pray.
I feel so tired, my body, so I sleep.
It isn't logic, it is love, and yourself.
Yes, I know.