Dying is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
--- Sylvia Plath
Sunday, August 22, 2010
At this moment, I'm thinking of Sylvia Plath
Dying is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
--- Sylvia Plath
Sunday, August 8, 2010
How much can a cup of coffee hold?
Sunday morning, Shenyang, China
I came to a Starbucks near the hotel for some inspiration. With a grant Capuchino in hand, I was suddenly crowded by noises from people's talks just like how the hot summer wind jump to my face when I go outdoor. It seems dozens of small parties are going on here. Groups and groups of people talk loudly and "passionately".
Apparently Starbucks is not just a place for business people or people who seek quietness for reading here in China. Maybe because this one is located in the shopping center.People come there for rests and at the same time they don't forget to carry on "whole-world-listen-to-me-please" conversations.
Certainly I'm not satisfied with the current situation I'm in now, since I expected a quieter place for writing. But there're no reasons for me to complain. If I view this from another angle, stepping back as an onlooker, I see interesting scenes or stories although some can be a bit creepy.
There are two girls bringing along McDonald's hamburgers.
A man is looking at himself in the reflection on his cell-phone.
On my right side, there is a woman leaning on the chair back with her kid aside. She's pretty concentrated on reading this magazine-Males' Study.
The frowning guy facing to me is reading a book with now-and-then notes taking.
The man on the left is taking a nap with three empty cups on his table, and an opened book named “Meeting an uncertain self”.
A young couple are being speechless. The girl is flipping over a fashion magazine never giving the guy a gaze. The guy is staring forwards, playing with his phone in hand.
I don't know what they can find in the coffees. For the same flavour type, people taste differently. Although there's a company drinking coffee with you now, he or she can never tell what feelings the coffee makes in you.
What you drink is coffee, what you swallow might be gloom. If life is a cup of coffee, how much affection can it hold?
People come here to seek coffee or some answer on the bottom of the cup, or just a place to hide themselves?
I couldn't explain why when I look at people, I see loneliness. I'm like a stander-by observing different plays on a bridge pretending I'm an outsider. But in fact I am probably some role in others' eyes at the same time. If I couldn't find a good coffee partner, I'd rather play a monodrama…
Speaking of this, my coffee has gone cold. My playlist came to Snow Patrol's Chasing Cars.
"We'll do it all
Everything
On our own
We don't need
Anything
Or anyone
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life
Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads
I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own
..."
Chasing Cars- Snow Patrol
I came to a Starbucks near the hotel for some inspiration. With a grant Capuchino in hand, I was suddenly crowded by noises from people's talks just like how the hot summer wind jump to my face when I go outdoor. It seems dozens of small parties are going on here. Groups and groups of people talk loudly and "passionately".
Apparently Starbucks is not just a place for business people or people who seek quietness for reading here in China. Maybe because this one is located in the shopping center.People come there for rests and at the same time they don't forget to carry on "whole-world-listen-to-me-please" conversations.
Certainly I'm not satisfied with the current situation I'm in now, since I expected a quieter place for writing. But there're no reasons for me to complain. If I view this from another angle, stepping back as an onlooker, I see interesting scenes or stories although some can be a bit creepy.
There are two girls bringing along McDonald's hamburgers.
A man is looking at himself in the reflection on his cell-phone.
On my right side, there is a woman leaning on the chair back with her kid aside. She's pretty concentrated on reading this magazine-Males' Study.
The frowning guy facing to me is reading a book with now-and-then notes taking.
The man on the left is taking a nap with three empty cups on his table, and an opened book named “Meeting an uncertain self”.
A young couple are being speechless. The girl is flipping over a fashion magazine never giving the guy a gaze. The guy is staring forwards, playing with his phone in hand.
I don't know what they can find in the coffees. For the same flavour type, people taste differently. Although there's a company drinking coffee with you now, he or she can never tell what feelings the coffee makes in you.
What you drink is coffee, what you swallow might be gloom. If life is a cup of coffee, how much affection can it hold?
People come here to seek coffee or some answer on the bottom of the cup, or just a place to hide themselves?
I couldn't explain why when I look at people, I see loneliness. I'm like a stander-by observing different plays on a bridge pretending I'm an outsider. But in fact I am probably some role in others' eyes at the same time. If I couldn't find a good coffee partner, I'd rather play a monodrama…
Speaking of this, my coffee has gone cold. My playlist came to Snow Patrol's Chasing Cars.
"We'll do it all
Everything
On our own
We don't need
Anything
Or anyone
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life
Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads
I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own
..."
Chasing Cars- Snow Patrol
Friday, August 6, 2010
Poem For You
You got a warm and promising future ahead
with the coming of a new life
One I even didn't have a chance to give
After all,
I'm still the same leaf
Lingering in uncertainty and loneliness
Time is a magician
We got all surprises without an ability to guess
You know, I know
I could only bury our story deep
A plan not implemented
A dream never achieved
Although
You are still you, I am still me.
The wander might be beautiful
It just
lacks you
---Robin
2010.8.7
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