Archive | February, 2013

我要的爱其使很简单

28 Feb

'In the Mood for Love' Movie Stills

我觉得自己很傻,喜欢上了一个会喜欢上自己的男人。
你就一至就只把我当好朋友看待, 是我自己不知不觉中喜欢上你。

不, 这不是你的错, 只是命运鍣弄人吧。

每当看见你时, 我的心都反付不属于自己。
不知所措, 不知道到了哪里去。
我的魂都到了你那去。

我明知道这是不可能的, 但是我没办法控自己。

这是场残局; 它只会以悲剧收场。

那场悲剧将会已我的泪收场。

说到你的时候我经常以泪洗脸。

我们的相识是场噩运。

你走的那天, 我一直在等你的电话。
但它一直都没来。
我就只能痴痴的等,心里难过的很但是却不能说。
我要和谁说?
有谁能明白我心里的伤?

看见你和她那么幸福, 我的心里不知不觉起了一阵阵的痛。

我只能对自己说“你快乐,我也快乐。”

其使我不需要很多, 只要你偶而的短讯问好或告诉我你今天过的好不好, 我就心满意足了。

我的其使要的简单不是吗?

我要的只是一场简简单单的爱。

一场属于我的爱。

我只是不小心爱上了不应该爱的你。

Will China Ever Be No. 1? – By Graham Allison and Robert D. Blackwill | Foreign Policy

19 Feb

Will China Ever Be No. 1? – By Graham Allison and Robert D. Blackwill | Foreign Policy.

Family and Friends

19 Feb

And the heartache begins again..

18 Feb

image

She sat across him, studying him.
She began wondering when did it all come to this.
They used to have fun, or at least she did, and still does.
This time, it felt different.
He felt different.
Almost like he couldn’t wait to be rid of her and go in search of new prey.
She could feel her heart swell, her chest getting tighter.
It was getting harder to breath, her heart felt like it was about to burst.
She wanted to reach into her chest and rip it out.
At least that pain would be short lived.
She told herself to let go and breath easy.
It was never meant to be anything more than this.
She told herself, that if she could overcome it once, she could do it again.

And she began questioning herself, if she really did overcome him?
Or was she just lying to herself?

It felt like an eternity had passed before he noticed her staring and asked if she was okay.

She smiled her sweetest she could manage and said yes.
That was all she could manage as the pain and disgust built up within her.

Disgust.

Yes, that was the word she was looking for.

Not just at him but at herself.
Disgust at the lengths she would go for him, at her own ineptness and his callousness.

She picked herself up and got ready to leave.

While they were in the lift, she looked at him for the last time and smiled.

He really is the quintessential bad boy.
That smile and the glint of mystery in his eyes…
Women are strange in that way; they all want a bad boy of their own – to love, to change.
She never asked to change him, she really just wanted to be with him for good or bad.

He saw her smiling and asked her what was on her mind.
She said – nothing, I’ll be fine.

And this time she meant it.

The disgust that was overwhelming her was slowly going away.
She knew once the lift doors opened, they would soon part ways.
She might not see him again for the next 2 – 3 months, or even forever.

Yet, this time she knew she’d be alright.

The lift doors part, and the (once)lovers say their goodbyes, with promises that they will see each other soon and sealed those promises with a kiss.

A poem came to mind, and as much as her heart was aching at that moment, she smiled at the thought of the poem.

Because this time, she knew she would be fine.

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

– Derek Walcott –

Tell me a story

7 Feb

klimt_danaeCome here,
Lie next to me.
Tell me a story,
and hold my hand.

Tell me your story,
That I don’t already know.
About your past, the present and your future too.

Tell me about that time,
When you were young,
You climbed a tree and broke your tooth.

About the girl,
Who broke your heart,
And made you so.

Sing me the song,
That makes your heart sing,
That makes you tear,
And makes you weak.

Tell me your dreams,
Your hopes and pain.

I know,
I maybe not be that one to see them through.
But on the very least,
Let me share them with you.

I know,
I will not always be in your heart.
But for now,
Give me that little space and let me in.

Let me lie here with you,
Just for the moment.

Tell me a story,
A story about you.
True or false,
It doesn’t matter,
As long as the story is from you.

Silent Language of Hands

7 Feb

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us,
we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions,or cures,
have chosen rather to share our pain
and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.
– Henri NouwenWhen we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us,
we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions,or cures,
have chosen rather to share our pain
and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.
– Henri Nouwen

Power of Play

2 Feb

Play.. My favourite past time.