星球六晚上

星球六晚上，我想起了你，没什么特别，只是回忆，遗憾的滋味，陪着我形影不离。永远不会有任何人能代替你。

一直以来我都是个夜猫子。虽然你和我说过，要早点睡，但是我努力过了，却还是一样没办法早早入眠。看电视，读小说，就算明天一大早要爬起来上班，都总是要到一两点才会进入梦乡。

但是如果隔天我不需要太早起床，我往往会带上耳机，听着一些让我想起你的歌曲。每当音乐响起后，我都会哽咽、都会哭泣。实在无法控制自己的情绪，又或是说，我在当下释放了我的情绪。超过一年了，那份感觉越感强烈、那份悲痛不曾消退，却像海啸般狠狠的摧毁我那复杂的内心。

A time for everything

A time to live,
A time to die,
A time to soar high up into the sky.

A time to laugh,
A time to grief,
A time to mourn the future that has died.

伤信

重读着你的告别信  抑压而暗涌
虽不信写的话竟可以这么重  但再哭亦无用
如果可不要信  宁死都不要信
但看我手  再激动仍只得伤信


我曾假设，如果我们能够重逢，走回在一起，我们能继续走下去吗？过去发生的事情永不磨灭，会在你我间产生什么化学作用呢？我抱着满满的期待开始假想，但是还没深入就已经发现，这个假设太单薄了，稍微清醒就把美梦给搓破。为了让它保有完美，我选择让它停留在起点，希望无论在多久后，它都依然保持原有的良好感觉。

然而，梦始终会醒来，一些事情终归会走到你面前。原地踏步是我的选择，纵然你已经消失在天际，我依然企盼你的归影。但是当荒芜的大地突然出现双飞的影子，我才惊觉其实当一个人离去后，回来时，他可以是两个人和你插身而过。抬头仰望，苍天浩瀚空洞。我追寻那双飞影，但却遍寻不着。原本封尘在记忆深处的美梦就那样的霎那破碎，遗留下来的是淡淡的落寞。

Friendly of sort

Sometimes you meet with a guy that is so friendly to you, that makes you feel appreciated but come the next day, he became so distant and cold. All the warmth and well wishes traded before the meet up and sex, all turn into short and simple replies instead. You wonder, is all the effort just to get into your pants? Well, partially so but at the same time, some people are just born this way. Their attention span is short, and they don't dwell too long in a relationship that has went pass the great orgasm. Would you call them jerks? Of course, but then again, sometimes it is our own fault of wanting more than was offered, the disappointment born of our own expectation, so who is there to blame but ourselves? 

We are merely passing by each other's life. At a crossroad we met, we get to know each other, we had fun. But when it is time to move on, we should gracefully bow out. And even if we refuse to let go, that feeling should be locked up inside, better a heart breaks inside, then to shatter into ugly pieces that cuts everybody.

Counting down

To whom can I put this question (with any hopes of an answer)? Does being able to live without someone you loved mean you loved him less than you thought... ?
Roland Barthes, Mourning Diary

I keep counting down to the day when he says goodbye. 3 months. 2 months. As if I am expecting something grandeur on that day to happen. Should I buy myself a meal on that day to celebrate or should I sulk at home, crying about what I lost. I do not know for I know not what I really feel now. Whatever tormenting feelings left, it is not inflicted by his physical absence but his presence in my mind. As much as I try to hold on to the memory, I seem to be letting it slip by faster and faster. The feeling of holding and losing someone at the same time is mind boggling indeed.