原来因宿命而开始的爱情往往都显得特别浪漫。

原来 人 真的不难被感动。

原来电视连续剧包含了许多人生的哲学和道理，期望和梦想，看了真能体会不少。

原来只要每个人把自己人生所有精彩的部分都剪辑拼凑，都会窜成一部部故事情节高潮迭起的电视剧，扣人心弦。

原来爱的方式有很多种，但大部分都含有不符合逻辑和失去自我的特征。

原来女人在感情里的武器就是情感，男人的则是逻辑和计谋。

原本就不会有人知道下辈子，下一世，生生世世和永远的承诺是否会被遵守，但人们总是听不腻，只要当时说出来时是真心的，都会被感动而相信。

原来两人抓得再紧的手也会有松开的一天。

原来两人再辛苦撑下去的感情也不一定会有完美的据点，但放弃了双方也不一定会幸福。

原来越辛苦走来的爱情越会让人珍惜，越多阻碍的爱情越令人感动。

原来分开并不是很难，只要别有爱和回忆的成分在里头， 因为回忆可以很甜，也可以很可怕。

原来放不下爱情和对爱情执着，只有在双方都彼此相爱的情况下才会幸福，若是一方抓紧，另一方拼命逃，两方都不会快乐。

原来电视剧的故事会让人落泪是因为情结，主角的勇敢和伤痛都唤起了点点滴滴的回忆。

原来松开了的手也能再握紧，只要彼此还爱对方。

原来《豪杰春香》我还真挺喜欢！

no matter how small the distance is, why does it always sound so far away?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

can you tell a sunset apart from a sunrise if you did not see it yourself?
would love to try seeing sunset and sunrise within the same hour one day, by air.

would a day then, have passed me by? have i lost one, or gained one?
if one keeps following the trail of the sun, would that person then freeze time?

what if near is far and far was actually near?
what if the sun was called the moon and the moon, the sun?

what's in a name?
nothing about my everything.

what's in a name? alost?

don't know why you had to come away with me to shoot the moon, find the lonestar, till the long day is over and the nightingale sang, and we waited for the sunrise... and i still don't know why.

don't know why... norah jones

I waited 'til I saw the sun
I don't know why I didn't come
I left you by the house of fun
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come

When I saw the break of day
I wished that I could fly away
Instead of kneeling in the sand
Catching teardrops in my hand

My heart is drenched in wine
But you'll be on my mind
Forever
Out across the endless sea
I would die in ecstasy
But I'll be a bag of bones
Driving down the road along

My heart is drenched in wine
But you'll be on my mind
Forever
Something has to make you run
I don't know why I didn't come
I feel as empty as a drum
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why I didn't come

somehow greensleeve started playing,
and autumn-feel sets in, leaves begin falling and... all these came to my mind.

a small town in distant autumn

slit a thin line across the horizon, and slide through
all you need to do first is to shut both fine slits

let your mind take you where you can't go
let your heart tell you where you want to go

for once, see not what your eyes want you to see
and hear solely the music your heart longed so long for

you may wish you could stay like this forever
but remember your way home

sometime,
along the way.

a small town in distant autumn
where you were drinking coffee and i was sipping tea

sometime,
along the way.

a small town in distant autumn
where i met you and you found me

how to draw a line again?
where to find the line?
what to see in the line?
that thin fine line.

Love Story... Taylor Swift

We were both young when I first saw you.
I close my eyes and the flashback starts:
I'm standing there on a balcony in summer air.

See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns.
See you make your way through the crowd
and say hello;

Little did I know
That you were Romeo; you were throwing pebbles,
And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet."
And I was crying on the staircase,
begging you, 'Please, don't go.'"

And I said,
"Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone.
I'll be waiting; all there's left to do is run.
You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess
It's a love story - baby just say 'Yes.'"

So I sneak out to the garden to see you.
We keep quiet 'cause we're dead if they knew.
So close your eyes; escape this town for a little while.
'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter,
And my daddy said "Stay away from Juliet,"
But you were everything to me; I was begging you, 'Please, don't go,'"

And I said,
"Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone.
I'll be waiting; all there's left to do is run.
You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess
It's a love story - baby just say 'Yes.'

Romeo save me - they're tryin' to tell me how to feel;
This love is difficult, but it's real.
Don't be afraid; we'll make it out of this mess.
It's a love story - baby just say "Yes.'"

Oh.

I got tired of waiting,
Wondering if you were ever comin' around.
My faith in you was fading
When I met you on the outskirts of town,

And I said,
"Romeo save me - I've been feeling so alone.
I keep waiting for you but you never come.
Is this in thy head? I don't know what to think-"

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said,
"Marry me, Juliet - you'll never have to be alone.
I love you and that's all I really know.
I talked to your dad - go pick out a white dress;
It's a love story - baby just say 'Yes.'"

Oh, oh.

We were both young when I first saw you...

pebble picking

water fairy saw a plain pebble one day and picked it up. how interesting she thought. there could be no meaning to the pebble, though it might have a purpose.

there might have been an intention when it was picked up yet its sole meaning depends on both the one who found it and the one whom it ends up with. it can mean something, everything or simply nothing.

times when you wonder what is the point of passing pebbles around when if you can't see the meaning attached to them. times when you pass some pebbles around simply because you had been given some pebbles yourself.

when you know that a pebble is truly different from all other pebbles, that's when you not only see the meaning, but you feel the depth of the intention of the pebble picker.

if you pick a pebble just because its a pebble, then perhaps it might be better to put it back where it belongs.

water fairy thought, if a grain of sand was picked with much thought and effort, then she will treasure it more than a hundred pebbles picked altogether without them.

she gently places the pebble back onto the sand, watch the waves wash over it and walked on.

if a pebble was picked just because its a pebble, then perhaps it might be better to leave it where it belongs. for with or without the pebble, things are pretty much the same.

what a weird water fairy! thought the little pebble silently, as it sits quietly by the sea, enjoying the gently hitting waves.
what a weird water fairy! thought the little grains of sand too.

but that's just our water fairy for you.

will i ever find the balance
that i am never prepared for?

how do we stop to smell the roses
if time keeps walking so fast?

when was it when i started wishing
for non-chalance again?

will there be a day where you give up and start changing,
because you wished too hard for things to stop changing and they never did?

will there be a day where you stop changing,
because you got tired of changing?

if a flower ever weeps
would its petals be its tears?

if a flower ever waited,
what would it have waited for?

if i ever see a shooting star here,
would you see the same one with me over there?

should i wish for time to slow its pace or walk faster?
wish i knew.

story of the three droplets

within the little pandora box of our little water faerie, lay a droplet of pure gold and a droplet of pure silver.

the cross path between the very first shooting star that landed on our earth and the dew drop of the very first morning gave rise to the essence of this silver droplet, henceforth its shine emanated was one of brilliant brightness, white in its purest form and a healing aura the depth of the deepest oceans.

the golden droplet was from the very first ray of the rising sun of the very first morning and found under the most melodic moonlight; for the moon of the past sang such hopeful hymns once upon a time. for this, the golden drop brought forth the most fragrant fragrance and the sweetness of the sweetest honey.

these two droplets tug gently at her heartstrings to lift them up whenever she feels down and soothes her slightest heartaches, if any. they were so precious to her, she held them so close to her heart and treasured them deeply.

the stars told her that there would be a third droplet of liquid crystal, essence drawn form the very first snowflake that fell on the earth and one that would take an eternity to form, under the most delusive lake at the ends of the earth.

there would be swan waiting patiently on thin ice above the lake, the single swan who would know where in the lake rests that liquid crystal, the most beautifully dimensioned and perfectly formed crystal, overflowing with warmness.

the swan awaits the single lady to find it and set it free
an eternity it has waited, an eternity it will continue to wait.

water faerie suddenly opened her eyes and lay down beside the spring.
she gently rests her fingers on the surface on the waters and felt puzzled when she did not see the ripples she expects to.

she leaned forward to take a closer look and to her amazement, she saw the most magnificent swan looking down at her from the reflection. she trace out the form of the swan and paused, when she saw the tear in the eyes of the swan. when the drop of tear finally fell, ripples appeared on the surface of the spring, and the swan was replaced by her own reflection in the waters.

water faerie felt her heart ached tremendously at that very moment, for no logical reason and she missed that swan terribly.

if only those who keep giving will never grow tired of giving.
if only those who receives, will appreciate and be thankful.

too many take for granted
too many ask for justice
too many hold overly high pride
too many mind too much
too many place themselves too central

too many lost that happiness within their reach

happy are those who give but do not realised they are giving.
for once you start realising, its seems to be near impossible:
to not mind at all
to not measure a bit
to not judge
to be true
and to give unconitionally

if love is all that important, why at the heat of the moment will anger overpower love?

yet unless you are certain that you can live a life totally void of love, otherwise giving up trying to love when you are created to love will not bring happiness. just because you cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel yet, doesn't mean you have to turn and head back to the other extreme end of this tunnel.

the world is only as bad a place as you made it to be.
the world can also be as nice a place as you wish it to be.

between the line of self-delusion and bitterness, i choose hope.
though there exists the difference between happiness being guaranteed,
and happiness being found in 'hoping' itself.

how would you ever know the beauty of sunrise, if your aim was solely for morning to come faster?
how would you ever know the beauty of sunset, if all you dread was the falling of night and the passing of a day?

time can be a frightening concept.
see how it brings out both the beauty and ugly side of a person within that split second in which human nature was put to the test.
see how it both tears people apart and build the bridge for one to reach the other.
see how you surprise yourself.

the hems of her skirt brushed along,
countless rows of bushes of thorns.
a rose among the thorns, the maiden saw, and pause.

knees on petals of the now ailing rose,
struggling and fighting, to stay.
in the final moments, the maiden uttered a short prayer.
her wings she flapped.

she looked back and, shed a tear.
but who was to know,
how much she had hoped this rose would have seen,
beauty of the world around,
and not the lone world of the thorns surround.

a strong gale, a mighty gust and,
some dancing petals.
the butterfly smiled.

little water faerie saw what looked like the mane of a lion amongst the bushes and decided to go closer. "hi there! are you a lion?" she asked. but the lion simply stared at her and look away. she would have liked to befriend the lion, if only it was less filled with pride, they probably would have become friends.

this day, water faerie spoke to a seashell on the beach, the beach only she knows about.
she waited for the sun to set this evening. it was a quietly, long sunset.

hello.
i am just a small pebble lying on the sand.
i have been lying here for many many years.
when the tide gets strong, i occasionally gets washed upshore.

hi.
i am just a tiny pebble lying on the sand,
where people walk me by.
some of them stops, picks me up,
and throw me back into the sea where i come from.
and once again, i remained submerged in the ocean waters,
till the next strong wave comes.

hello.
i am just a small pebble, lying on the sand.
i see the sun every single day when i open my eyes,
and just before i close them, that's when i see the moon.

hi.
i am just a tiny pebble washed upshore.
i've been lying on the shore for many many years.
good day and nice to meet you.
countless of people walk by me, walk on me or sat with me.

once, a little girl saw me and held me in her palms.
(she probably mistook me for a sea shell.)
she whispered to me a simple wish, which i shall remember for very very long.
(you see, i haven't quite forgotten it yet).
i tried to talk to her,
but she can't seem to hear me.

is it always so, between us and you people?
but she was a nice nice little girl, nonetheless
and it has been pleasing to meet her.

hi.
i am a small pebble lying on the sand.
it has been nice meeting you and,
good day.

as water faerie strolled along the rose bushes today, she heard some rather light fluttering of wings. as she turned, she saw seven beautiful butterflies surrounding her. she saw that each of them was in a colour - red, orange, yellow, green, turquoise, blue and violet, as they circled her thrice. the violet butterfly rested on her wings while the others flew off. a while later, a white one flew towards her and rested on her wings too, before flying off with the violet one. "how wonderful, and interesting!" thought our little water faerie.

the curious case of benjamin button is one movie i will never forget.

by far one of the most aesthetic film with the most beautiful story in years such that i can't help but love every single thing about it. every piece of music in each scene simply swayed me along the passing moments of time in the theater. wonderful wonderful feeling. which continues to resonate even after the second time watching it.

because nothing is truly forever, hence some things are even more beautiful.

story of a single white rose

roses aplenty, none she fancied.
what haughty heart has she!
what guarded heart she has!

day by day,
the queen of whitros sat by her window, waiting.
thinking about a single white rose -
that single white rose.

a perpetual smile she hid,
beneath her rosy cheeks.
the cheeks that were faintly marked,
by some of her very tears.

yet all she truly missed,
was but that single white rose;
that single white rose which she once saw,
atop a lonely mountain.

that single white rose had chosed to reveal its petals during the darkest hour,
on a cold winter night;
that single white rose hadn't shudder or shiver,
amidst the cold, thick snow.

that single white rose had remained standing,
against the howls of gales and gusts;
that single white rose that lasts an eternity,
yet wilts at the very moment plucked.

that moment she held it in her hands, she knew her heart was claimed.
she left through the door of doors and was glad to be back alone.
for that single white rose will never be the same if she hadn't left it there.
hence, there were no regrets.

she was glad for
that single white rose she had fancied,
she will always love,
till the end of time.

as the waning moon takes its resting position for the night, little water fairy took a stroll by the quiet beach; the one she alone knew the way to. squatting on the sand, she began to doodle idly. unknowingly, she had drawn a rather huge ring around herself. she crouched forward, with her folded arms resting gently on her knees, and begin to ponder about the recent spate of events.

that split second where she had looked up was all that was needed for the glowing light source to catch her eyes. she saw for the first time there and then, on that small island some distance away, fireflies dancing! the soft and warm fluorescence dissipated by the ring of fireflies took her breath away and left her in awe for a long time - she had never seen anything so beautiful!

yet, this wonderful sight still wasn't enough to make her wish for time to come to a standstill...

if i could turn back time,
i'll never want to see things more than they are and deeper than most can see it.

if i could pause time,
i wish i'll never have to grow up.

if i could fast forward time,
i wish that you'll never find me and we'll never meet,
for when the day comes for us to be apart,
i'm not sure if i can find the strength to walk on.

i'm only a simple fish who yearns for simple happiness.

story of a little fish.

for she was born of love,
hence she was made to love.
she finally realised that she cannot stop herself from caring,
however burdened she feels, for she was created to be so -
the very day she begins to exist.

this day, our small fish found her cross.

this day, there was an earthquake in the nearby shores where our little fish lived. her small pond was badly shaken. her small pond was where she had happily made her home in, since she swam here some time back.
yet this very day, she heard about this other fish which did not managed to escape from the fateful earthquake and, lost his life.

this day, when she heard the news, she watched other fishes swim by her as if nothing had happened, preoccupied by their own tiny problems and going about their daily business. she heard them brush it off lightly, she heard them joke about it briefly. she didn't understand why she felt so deeply for the poor fish when she hadn't even known him, while others never did.

she couldn't see why other fishes cannot see, that right in front of them, was a fish who swam so hard to reach this little pond, only to find himself being swept off by the single tide he couldn't cross. and what he lost thereafter were countless precious moments which could have been used to build and store beautiful memories in his lifetime.

this day, fish began to question herself if she could ever be like a normal fish at all - with what went on around her, her lamentations were for the loss of an unacquianted fish?! fish began to hope that she could be as non-chalant, or just take it lighter, but she simply couldn't.

this day, fish wondered why other fishes did not see the same world the way she did -
that they all perhaps ever crossed fins once with this fish, who now will never again swim in the same ocean as they do;
that one day, it might be a fish whom they knew, who couldn't escape from another earthquake;
that this fish may have wished to turn back time and swim far far away from this fateful earthquake or pond, but there could never be a 2nd chance for him to choose;
that this fish will never get to say goodbye to his beloved fishes in his true home again.

this day, fish asked herself is she truly wanted others to see the same world the way she did.
she wished they never will.

for only when a fish is focusing on his/her own set of problems, will the problems of other fishes become manageable for him/her. and only when a fish solely cares about how he/she feels, will the emotions and pains of other fishes become much more insignificant, and bearable.

this day, our small fish found her cross.

draw a circle on a pristine beach,
to confine yourself within.
then, step out.

it is still the same beach,
with the circle still on the sand,
and, you are still you.

the world outside the circle hasn't change a bit.

eventually, its is us who have the ability to confine ourselves to stay within non-physical boundaries. yet, we are also the ones who could free ourselves from it.

a bubble and a fish

once upon a time, a small fish lived in a shiny and pretty bubble.

people outside the bubble worried for the little fish. some feared the bursting of her small little bubble one day, while others felt sad for her, for in their minds all they saw was a trapped fish.

but in truth, our dear little fish never really minded. because only she could see the world through her small little bubble, how special! and, she was rather pleased with everything she saw, for they were beautiful. though again she can never be sure if the vibrant colours were from the world itself or her special little bubble.

but she don't really need to know, does she?

there are times where she would wonder quietly what would happen if she ever bump into another bubble one day.

once, she tried crossing a thin bridge spanned across a valley, and it was then when she finally realised that there are just some things that will remain complicated and tough, whether u are inside or outside a bubble.

what are the chances of 2 persons who don't know the existence of each other finding each other on this very same earth at the very same time?

what are the chances of them meeting, if 1 chooses to hide?

... characters of the exact scene can tell so much sometimes.

on the stage, some play a character out of fun, some play it to help a friend. some simply play it to see how certain character suffers according to the scriptwriter.

some gets thrown into the act unprepared, others think of ways to get onto the stage. some play it willingly, some think for a long while to decide whether he/she will sink too deep into the play.

some wonder if some characters are really as simple as they look. some question the effects on the audience and each character after the play.

resounding applause -

what comes after the drawing of the curtain (for each character)?

what an interesting play. isn't life the stage and things that happen to us different acts of changing scenes? interesting play. what marvellous actors and actresses have we - or are we?

story of a small leaf...

once, a small leaf fell into the waters.
it thought nothing changed except that it was wet, on one side.
yet it didn't see the ripples beneath its back.
and hence, it didn't know where they will reach -

if they would cross paths with other ripples or, stop somewhere.

the small leaf didn't know, hence it did not wonder.
it remains contented,
just lying on the waters and being a small leaf.

what ignorant small leaf,
what a blissful small leaf!

initially, the graph of self awareness followed the trend y = 0.1x. however, after a certain point along the x-axis (age), the graph became an exponential function. and i denote this critical point of transition by (self-centredness, selfishness). its formula being "everything is about me, period."

irritatingly, you observe that its the same case with everyone (most people) around you. and even more annoyingly, you realised your own graph is beginning to shape like this as well. and you totally detest this actual becoming of this type of "someone" whom you never liked and would never want to become. argh. totally (O_0) annoyed and irritated.

thank god for the certain few good souls around me that are not like this and don't make me feel like this either. whenever did voicing out become so important to people all of a sudden? why do i feel such a strong distaste to be around people who always speak but seldom listen? could it be because i am also one of them, hence the existence of 2 dominant species?

yet i can still feel the sense of harmonised comfort when that few good souls are around me - our turns to talk and listen are simply so well balanced? i don't really want to listen, therefore i do not want to speak. or perhaps, i don't really want to speak to you, therefore i don't want to listen to you?

but why the want for a response or an acknowledgment? why is it so important to be heard? because you can't find the right person to give you 99% of the right responses you expect to get? perhaps i am biased because i had always been listened to. yet why are there just some people you simply enjoy listening to and sharing with? affinity? play of emotions, mood?

how exactly do you stay unbiased and non-judgmental towards individual speakers? still find this extremely challenging and tiring - to be a nice and good person and at the same time stay true to your thoughts and feelings. sometimes, somehow the guilt following your want for being carefree without attachment just wears you out. can one ever get the right balance, and, even if one does get it one day, will happiness then be guaranteed?


balance.
life is about.
all.

on the wall there was a tiny little crack. if u paid enough attention, it will be spotted. but similar walls were everywhere, and the walls just keep getting taller so that they can feel the wind and that so other walls will not block them. it ended up with every single wall becoming taller and taller, constantly being blocked by other walls and blocking other walls - yet they are essentially still the very same wall (with cracks) that conceal but doesn't protects. what strange walls! what dark cloth it was covered with!

heareth.

atop a lonely mountain i stand -
reflections in the flakes of snow.
mirror my emotions - blank and nought!

if i had yelled would anyone hear me?
if i yell, what would my echo say?
heareth now.
silence.

silence then, silence now.

cold snowy white mountain top,
an ailing sweet rose lay.
what chilling wind!
how cold the night.
still as dead, petals danced.

weird beings,
heareth!
heareth of the wordless voice.
heareth hard -
for my heart's longing -
the soft cotton wool shrouded by large floating clouds.

as i wonder
as i thought
that nothing and nothing
from nothing to nothing
through nothing but nothing.

so will the stillwater flow,
so will the river run.

so will i be claimed.

silence then,
silence now.
heareth.

water faerie took a slow walk by the river one night. she saw a few stars shining ever so brightly across the milky way and stopped by the riverbank. the river glistered silently, reflecting rays of soft moon light from the quiet crescent hanging in the dark sky. her little rabbit friend popped its head out from among the bushes and hopped gracefully onto her lap as she sat herself gently on the grass.

this rabbit was to her, a truly special one. it was as if she felt a connection with it the first time she carried it. and whenever she was with it, no words need to to be said. they could sit like this for hours - if there ever were a time concept in her land at all! yet strangely, this particular night, her heart started humming a song, one that contained a distant memory which she knew she could never recall, because of the promise. "but it must have been a beautiful one." she whispered to herself, that she was certain. and that promise which she had to keep, why couldn't she remember a thing about it at all?

though so, the very next moment, our ever-so-impromptu and slightly mischievous little water faerie, (whose mind is constantly filled with thousands of creative ideas), bounced up from where she was, and invited her special rabbit for a dance. she then raised her right hand to the darkness, and drew a thin line with her fingers, joining the brightest star across the sky (at this very hour) to her special rabbit. she closed her eyes and made a silent wish. and when she opened her eyes once more, she saw him.

just then, a music begins to play itself, and they began their dance - dancing like no one is watching - because there really is no one watching (or so thought our little water faerie). their sliding was graceful, and occasionally a couple of delightful turns and swirls. and little water faerie wondered hard at this familiar dancer leading her along the riverbank. it was as though she ever danced like this before with him. but where? when? his smile felt so dear. yet the memory just slips away each time she tried to hold on. why... after frowning for a while, she finally decided that now should not be the time to think, for in this place, you never know how long the magic will last. so she closed her eyes and followed his lead, and they danced away, into the night.

love thursdays. u simply lose track of time when u are doing something u truly enjoy, whether u are good at it or not doesn't really matter anymore...

if only time could come to a stand still this moment.
then nothing more would happen.

appears for one single dance and then kind of really just vanish after that. that would have been kind of the perfect setting. looking at just that glimpse of a second, and strictly nothing more after that. feeling free of any thoughts just for that moment itself and that will be enough. for me.

really liked this song in twilight. the tune. the setting. the scene. the atmosphere. the dance.


Flightless Bird, America Mouth

I was a quick wet boy, diving too deep for coins
All of your street light eyes wide on my plastic toys
Then when the cops closed the fair, I cut my long baby hair
Stole me a dog-eared map and called for you everywhere

Have I found you
Flightless bird, jealous, weeping or lost you, American mouth
Big pill looming

Now I'm a fat house cat
Nursing my sore blunt tongue
Watching the warm poison rats curl through the wide fence cracks
Pissing on magazine photos
Those fishing lures thrown in the cold
And clean blood of Christ mountain stream

Have I found you
Flightless bird, grounded, bleeding or lost you, American mouth
Big pill stuck going down

is having a hope and then losing it totally better than never having it in the first place?
can we say so for some other things in life? like love?
to never have found true love at all is definitely better than to find it and then lose it one day?

to experience both sadness and joy and never forget either or never to know at all how it felt having them?

there's so much more to see and learn in life. can one go on forever thinking that life is just the beginning for them?

twilight. new moon. eclipse. breaking dawn.
how can a love so intense, so strong last for eternity and yet coexist with happily ever after?

too good to be true.
too hopeful to let go.

sometimes its only when you don't know where to look that you find it.
life's lesson just has to be taught in the most innovative way.
hah! life.

just when you thought you've looked deep enough, it just gets deeper.
just when you thought you've thought wide enough, it just gets wider.
just when you thought you've had enough, it just wouldn't stop.
life. amusing life. but perhaps not the one living it.

its been quite a while since i last remembered about the pandora box which lay quietly, deep down on the floor bed of the springs.
but its fine. the key is not with the box.
the ripples across the springs are temporal. that i am sure.

it will stay shut. for that i am certain, for i had already forgotten where i put the key.

water fairy stood by the seemingly young tree. a small tree without doubt, yet all the more she revered it, for its beginnings were rooted in the very first days of the earth. she taps once, and then knocked twice before she affirmed it was hollow. her heart sank, without warning.

looking up, she reached for a deep emerald-shade apple hanging just by the outermost branch to her left, and tugged at it gently. she sat down, leaning against the tree and tossed the apple between her hands. she wondered for once why she had been so taken by it before, and why she wasn't as fascinated now, though the apple did not look a tiniest bit different - sparkling, tempting since the very first time she had set her eyes upon it.

she slowly raised it to her lips, the light crunch startled her a little. a tear had escaped and trickled down her cheeks at that very same moment. she was puzzled, for she did not understand why, for she was feeling truly peaceful when the tear had slipped. a sour and bittersweet apple. the aftertaste lingered on a second longer. how interesting. the taste was definitely more memorable than she intended it for, unlike any taste she has had before, in fact. she wasn't sure she liked it, neither was she certain of taking another bite so she looked at the apple intently, her gaze was so deep yet faraway that, if you look into her eyes at that exact but fleeting point in time, you will see nothing, and nothing only.

existence of the abstract existence.

what exactly is the evidence to prove existence exists? memory? flawed. since everyone remembers things differently, as with the way they look at them. even more flawed if existence is distant, since a large part ends up relying even more on the way of and the different people who interpret the very memory.

so let's say if trust varies proportionally with the consistency of memory, which varies consistently with the number of people remembering anyone or anything in particular (that has ever existed before), then, if we don't trust humanity then we can never trust the concept of the existence of anything outside our time frame and space dimension totally.

and so, if you ever have forever in your hand, you can actually create the existence of infinite 'anyone's and 'anything's as long as you are able to alter memory. so essentially, memory is so easy to mistrust, easier than anything else in the world? taking into consideration the fact that human beings are not exactly the most trustworthy species to start with.

then again, given time frame restrictions, what might be the point of ensuring and remembering the 'existence' of someone or something seriously, if there is no way to change or undo anything about them in the first place? history.

i am never less-fasincated with it no matter. the ultimate source of some truly wonderful and exciting stories and imaginations, and which never have to really come true to bring amazement, fun and even joy to the ones creating them as well as the ones listening to them. most of the time though, the more you are able to believe such stories and imgainations can exist, the more enjoyment you derive.

why is escapism necessarily bad if it brings nothing but a moment of sheer happiness? no one said that happiness has to be eternal or else it would be useless, for the very group of people who said that, they probably would have contradicted their very selves immediately?

if we can dream something into existence, by working really hard at it, then can we dream a person into existence too? or it hugely hinges on our interpretation? i.e. if certain dreams are able to exist in reality, so let's assume that we believe very hard in the existence of a soulmate, our very own soulmate. would then the person really exists?

and then what if i earnestly believe in his existence, yet i also sincerely believe that we will never meet? can something or someone that doesn't exist be as important or more important to us than any random person who already exists in our life, simply beause of the very notion of hope he brings along with him?

like so many things,
so many things exist.
i realised that i don't need to meet my soulmate to make sure he exists.
i just need to know he does and he will.

neither am i sure i'll ever want to meet him
for we are all born simple and content.

trading in the certainty of never finding yourself complete again if we ever lose each other one day just to feel what completeness is, is just requiring more courage than i think i have. serendipity, nonetheless. life is larger than finding our soulmate? just like the concept of happiness coming in more than one form.

rich and complete happiness versus the simpler happiness, perhaps for now, i'd want nothing else except the simpler. if we were never offered options, would we really stay happy the way we had been till forever?

满园玫瑰我以为找到我那一朵
认真爱了却狠狠刺伤我的双手
责备什麽人也没有用
玫瑰都红难免看错

望着天空爱是风活在童话里头
小王子说有些事流浪过才会懂
原来每颗心都有个洞
找不到真爱会一直寂寞

我但愿有一个人在等我

在属於我的612星球

好让我忍着痛也愿意往下走

不快乐至少要有梦

一定会有一个人在等我

无条件拥抱着我的所有

想遇见我还要翻越多少山丘


花别谢太快请你等等我
擦干眼泪一个人漂流在这宇宙
小王子说爱一定开在某个角落
不想相爱的人那麽多
我会幸福吗在什麽时候

leap? no.
don't want to start things on the wrong step.

don't want to start anything at all.

not now. really.
like it when my plate is empty.

people are so funny.
i am so funny.

peter pan...
could he really stay so happy after wendy left?
would he change his mind...
if asked again to choose

nonsensical blabberings.
don't mind me.

anne sullivan. teaching a child to see the world and learn about it in her own way.

the miracle worker.