请移步至

http://christarfan.blogbus.com/

thanks

luv

Christar

Iris

or

the stranger

you used to read

Talked about Bergson with my dad, concept of time, memory and changes...didn't know why everytime we touched on such topic, in the end, it would end up with talking about my life and plans...value conflicts, dichotomized ideology...

Have too much drama lately...don't want to think about whether they're constructed by me or they're already there, like a hidden volcano in the forest and now it's time to erupt...anyway, I did my best with it...the storm in my body was gone, left only the bitterness on the tip of my tongue, and I'm still chewing hard on it, saying it's just a matter of time...though nobody would understand, people involved couldn't see that, and I really hope that they would never know...it makes me feel complete, on my own, all by myself.

Here I remember sth regarding pain, 'she learned that we all born in pain and pain is what we are in most of the time, there was no talking cure for this kind of condition...' I have read it out loud once and desperately believe it's true...a pretentious  hypocrite I am, you may say...Saw 'Frida' yesterday afternoon, wonder if I can live like her, even just for a short while.

It's always good to quote 'Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man', I mean a paragraph as below, by the end of a year and you know I see my life in this way:

First came the vacation and then the next term and then vacation again and then again another term and then again the vacation. It was like a train going in and out of tunnels and that was like the noise of the boys eating in the refectory when you opened and closed the flaps of the ears. Term, vacation; Tunnel, out; noise, stop.