好難的自嘲

家有一老如有一寶﹐更何況我家裡有兩老﹗
這是昨天的學習收穫。

運交華蓋欲何求，未敢翻身已碰頭。
破帽遮顏過鬧市，漏船載酒泛中流。
橫眉冷對千夫指，俯首甘為孺子牛。
躲進小樓成一統，管它冬夏與春秋。
- <<自嘲>> 魯迅

是魯迅老師的作品總是有點難度太高﹐還是我的華文水準見不得人?

you live you learn

You were holding my heart
Then you dropped it.

And I thought it would shatter and break.

But it wasn’t so brittle & hard.
It was soft.

And the feeling you left was an ache.

An ache that you wouldn’t be with me
That I’d never love somebody new

That I’d never forget –
That I’d never forgive –

That I’d always be less without you.

- My Heart.Elisa Garcia

Haven't we felt the same way before?
But the truth is that ache will go away.
You might never forgive but you would start to forget.
You'd love somebody new.
And you realise you are no less without anybody.

A little cliché for the day: Let time do the healing.

a little food for thought

Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies are not starving someplace, they are starving somewhere else. With flies in their nostrils. But we enjoy our lives because that's what God wants. Otherwise the mornings before summer dawn would not be made so fine. The Bengal tiger would not be fashioned so miraculously well. The poor women at the fountain are laughing together between the suffering they have known and the awfulness in their future, smiling and laughing while somebody in the village is very sick. There is laughter every day in the terrible streets of Calcutta, and the women laugh in the cages of Bombay. If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction, we lessen the importance of their deprivation. We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure, but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world. To make injustice the only measure of our attention is to praise the Devil. If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down, we should give thanks that the end had magnitude. We must admit there will be music despite everything. We stand at the prow again of a small ship anchored late at night in the tiny port looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront is three shuttered cafés and one naked light burning. To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a rowboat comes slowly out and then goes back is truly worth all the years of sorrow that are to come.

- A Brief for the Defense.Jack Gilbert

to see beyond shadows

When you see a shadow, you will assume that there must be something casting the shadow. You see the shadow of an animal. You think it may be a horse, but you are not quite sure. So you turn around and see the horse itself - which of course is infinitely more beautiful and sharper in outline than the blurred 'horse-shadow'. Plato believed similarly that all natural phenomena are merely shadows of the eternal forms or ideas. But most people are content with a life among shadows. They give no thought to what is casting the shadows. They think shadows are all there are, never realizing even that they are, in fact, shadows. And thus they pay no heed to the immortality of their own soul.

- Jostein Gaarder.Sophie's World

be a great host

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

- The Guest House
by Jelaluddin Rumi,
translated by Coleman Barks in his book *Essential Rumi*

free yourself

Speak the following affirmations, which have been scientifically formulated to free you of all rigid beliefs that might cause stupidity:

I kick my own ass and wash my own brain.
I push my own buttons and trick my own pain.
I burn my own flags and roast my own heroes.
I mock my own fears and cheer my own zeroes.

Nothing can stop me from teasing my shadow.
I'm full of empty and backwards bravado.
My wounds are tattoos that reveal my true beauty.
I turn tragic to magic and make bliss my duty.

I honor my faults till they become virtues.
I play jokes on my nightmares
till I'm sure they won't hurt you.
I sing anarchist lullabies to lesbian trees
and love songs with punch lines
to anonymous seas.

I won't accept gifts that infringe on my freedom
I shun sacred places that stir up my boredom.
I change my name daily, pretend to be nobody.
I fight for the truth if it's majestically rowdy.

Gravity fucks me and I fuck it back.
The sun is my sex slave, the moon smokes my crack.
I pump up my conscience with idiot laughter.
I'm living happily, in love ever after.

I brag about what I can't do and don't know.
I take off my clothes to those I oppose.
I'm so far beyond lazy, I work like a god.
I'm totally crazy; in fact that's my job.

- excerpt, "PRONOIA IS THE ANTIDOTE FOR PARANOIA:How the Whole World Is Conspiring to Shower You with Blessings"
by Rob Brezsny

it takes a strong person

In the old Sufi legend about Allah, he decided to drive everybody crazy. He changed the water so that everybody who drank it would go crazy. And then he decided there was one man he liked a lot so he told him 'Don't drink the water for the next month!' And after the first couple of days of living among all these lunatics the guy couldn't stand it any more and he went and drank the water too.
The same kind of thing happens every day. People become aware that we're living in a crazy world and then they realize they can't live with that insight so they go crazy themselves so they can fit into that world.

-Robert Anton Wilson

remember remember the fifth of november

V: This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is it vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished, as the once vital voice of the verisimilitude now venerates what they once vilified. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, and so it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Evey Hammond: Who are you?
V: "Who?" "Who" is but the form following the function of "what", and *what* I am is a man in a mask.
Evey Hammond: Well I can see that!
V: Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation, I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man who he is.
Evey Hammond: [short pause] Oh... right.

Excellent.

and so i learn

After a while you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul
And you learn that love does not mean leaning
and company does not always mean security
And you begin to learn that kisses are not contracts
and presents are not promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child
And you learn to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down in flight

After a while you learn that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers
And you learn that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth

And you learn and you learn
with every goodbye you learn.

- Comes the Dawn.Veronica Shopstall

british humour rocks

I'm hooked on this show.

Not really on par with SATC, but funny enough.
Typical quotes below.
Enjoy.

You’ve never understood about bottoms, Jane. Having a bottom is like living with the enemy. Not only do they spend their lives slowly inflating, they flirt with men while we’re looking the other way.

When man invented fire, he didn’t say, 'hey, let’s cook', he said, 'great, now we can see naked bottoms in the dark.'

Friendship’s more lasting than love, and more legal than stalking.

Well, you know what it’s like at the start, when they’re all fiery-eyed, and eager, and they haven’t seen you naked yet. And it’s like he’s smashing at your door with his mighty battering ram. And he’s promising to ravish you forever. So you brace yourself for man overload, and throw open the doors, and what do you find standing there? An oversized toddler who wants his dinner. And before you can say 'there’s been a terrible mistake', he’s snoring on your sofa, the fridge is full of empty bottles and the whole place smells of feet.

Sally: Mary Kelly thinks you’re a complete idiot.
Patrick: Then why does she keep looking at my arse when we’re talking?
Sally: She’s lip-reading.

think....

This came in my weekly Freewill Astrology newsletter.

Can you imagine
what it would be like
to become aware
of an omnipresent ocean
of wild divine love
that has always been a secret to you
in the same way
that the sea is invisible to a fish?

Beautiful, I think.

fleeting happiness

*updated*
Kenny Sia makes me laugh so hard.
Read this and fall off your chair.
Damn man. What else is in that head of yours???

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I mentioned Cookie Mueller some months back.
Maybe you remember; maybe you don't.
Let me share this piece of writing.
I think she's mad, but immensely likeably mad.

Many years and brain cells ago, I had this belief that everyone would be happy someday. I have since found that this isn't necessarily so.
Happiness is a fictitious feeling. It was created by imaginative storytellers for the purpose of plot building or story resolution. Fortunately most people don't know this. They think the lives they are living are actual screenplays or theater pieces. In earlier times people were convinced their lives were the fantastic tales told at the fireside. Because of this, I have seen people stop in their tracks for a moment and wonder where the plot is, but mostly they just forge on blindly.
Believing that life will someday be wonderful isn't a bad thing, in fact it is absolutely necessary. To know the truth - life is hard, and then you die - isn't a very comfortable thing to live with. If everyone knew the cold facts, the sky would be darkened with falling bodies in suicide leaps.
Most people have been led to believe that their lives would be better if they had money, and usually this isn't wrong. They know it's not impossible to come into money, in fact I've read that every thirty-nine minutes a new millionaire emerges in the world.
But what's the real reason people want lots of money? Food? Clothing? Shelter? Yes, these things are basic, even the poor often have these things in modest amounts. Usually, the more you have of each of these basics, the more complicated life gets. Having too much food makes you fat; you need to diet. Having too many clothes makes it hard to make a decision in the morning; you need to organize. Having too many homes must be really tough; you have to fill them. And why own all these things anyway; if there's no one else to share them with, or no one to hire to help you, or no one to be jealous of you?
I have pondered this and come up with the logical answer. People want money because they want to be loved. They believed that money will buy them love. Okay, we've all heard this.
Now, supposed you had lots of money, thus you had tons of lovers (perhaps it's superficial love but this blossoms), and you had lots of servants who loved you and hung around, and you had lots of friends who were envious. You would expect that everything would be great. Lots of love, lots of money. What else could one want?
Unfortunately, the pitiable human being will still want something else. It is human nature.
The next thing to want would be fame. So you need publicity. That's not difficult; you can buy a newspaper or magazine company and put your own name and picture in the headlines if you want; you can finance films and star yourself. Okay, now you have money, love and fame. But people still laugh at you behind your back. Then what? The answer is power.
Let's suppose your magazine is successful and your film is a box-office smash. Then you have all for; money, love, fame, and power. Would you be happy? No. You would probably go mad.
Look at Howard Hughes. He had all four. In the end he went insane. He was so afraid of germs he was walking around with sanitary Kleenex boxes on this feet.
No one is ever satisfied.
Some people might remind you that the holy men of the East are satisfied, but I don't think so. Even those guys want something. They might want infinite wisdom or they might want to perform miracles to impress followers, or they might want to levitate. It's always something.
Being a human being isn't easy, what with all these insatiable physical, emotional, and intellectual desires.
If the ultimate goal in life is to be happy, then you have to admit that one-celled creatures have it all over us. Little germs are probably always happy. They are superior, they don't sing the blues. Think about that the next time you bring out the disinfectant bottle and start scrubbing them away.
Look at Howard Hughes again. He must have known that the happiness of germs was something terrifyingly enviable. He must have been jealous.

- Fleeting Happiness.Cookie Mueller
Ask Dr Mueller. The Writings of Cookie Mueller


Today I think that no-lifers must be the lowest life-form in this world.
Imagine. Someone who doesn't spend his time improving the quality of his life and living it to the fullest his own way. Instead he lives his life by latching onto someone else's. He's affected by what is happening to this other person; he's angry with things this person does; he's pissed off with things this person says; he spends his time composing comments to send to this person.
(Mind you, I use "him" but it can easily be substituted with "her".)
It is beyond being pitiful.
It is just downright embarrassing.

By the way, don't start feeling smug by the fact that you are taking up some blog space.
You mean less to me that that fat earthworm which managed to lodge itself into the side of my car door the other day.
And don't bother to reply.
But knowing you and the fact that you have no life, I guess that's going to be pretty hard to resist.

words, music, movie villain

"Fortunately I am not the first person to tell you that you will never die. You simply lose your body. You will be the same except you won’t have to worry about rent or mortgages or fashionable clothes.

You will be released from sexual obsessions.

You will not have drug addictions.

You will not need alcohol.

You will not have to worry about cellulite or cigarettes or cancer or AIDS or venereal disease.

You will be free.”

- Cookie Mueller

Cookie Mueller is the author of the compiled writings in Ask Dr Mueller, one of my favourite books of all time. She was a true-blue hippie chick, in the words of her good friend John Waters, she was “a writer, a mother, an outlaw, an actress, a fashion designer, a go-go dancer, a witch-doctor, an art-hag, and above all, a goddess”.

She had a column in the East Village Eye as Dr Mueller. And mind you, she's no doctor! Some other day I shall reproduce excerpts of her Q&A here.

Totally bonkers, freakingly hilarious, yet occasionally making a lot of sense.

Absolutely fabulous.

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Homegrown local band Electrico is touring Australia for the next two weeks.

Catch their gigs if you happen to be in Australia during this period. Details in the Electrico website.

Dear David/Daniel/Desmond/William/Amanda,
Good luck with the tour.
Come back safe and happy.
And have a rocking good time!

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You can be whoever you want to be.....as long as you know how.

the story of o

For today we hear seemingly normal people, even those with a level head on their shoulder, blithely speaking of love as though it were some frothy feeling of no real consequences. They say it offers many pleasures, and that this contact of two epidermises is not completely devoid of charm. They go on to say that charm or pleasure is most rewarding for the person who is capable of keeping love imaginative, capricious, and above all natural and free. Far be it from me to object, and if it’s all that simple for two of the opposite sex (or even of the same sex) to give each other a good time, then indeed they should, they would be crazy not to. There are only one or two words all this which disturb me most: the word love, and also the word free. Needless to say, it is quite the opposite. Love implies dependence – not only in its pleasure but by its very existence and in what precedes its existence: in our very desire to exist – dependence on half a hundred odd little things: on two lips (and the smile or grimace they make), on a shoulder (and the special way it has of rising or falling), on two eyes (and their expression, a little more flirtatious or forbidding), or, when you come down to it, on the whole foreign body, with the mind and soul enclosed therein – a body which is capable at any moment of becoming more dazzling than the sun, more freezing than a tract of snowy waste. To undergo the experience is no fun, you make me laugh with your entreaties….

- “A note on Story of O” Andre Pieyre de Mandiargues
The Story of O by Pauline Reage

You think you know love and sex? Read “the story of o”. Then “the sexual life of catherine m”.
The French. They know their sex and love.

We think we do. But we don’t.
Not yet. I think.