Je manque Monsieur. Sa voix est reposante. And he doesn't act to be humourous or something. He has the gentleness of a Frenchman. Sigh. Life would be so good if I was still under Monsieur, plus Señor, but I guess you have to adapt to the unexpected changes and to the various disappointment. It's kinda ironic.



I'm said to be fickle; maybe I am. I've changed half of my subjects, and I'm planning to change my CCA. I don't be fickle because I'm fickle; I act fickle because I've been seeking for the better and because I've never given up. Change and change and change, and discover what I'm up to and what suits me in the process of making changes. Changes add colour to life, isn't it?



Exams are over, but still a long way ahead. More organisation is needed in my life. Need to work harder for my dream.

Feliz Cumple, Mi Amor


If I ever pray, I pray for you. Because you are my captain, you are my prince. In the softest and deepest corner of my heart I tenderly store the memories about and the love for you. You always carry the message of the loveliest sunlight and bluest sky, to my heart, to my dream, to inform me of what I care, of what I pursue. Your eyes are where people get drowned. Your smile is what makes people drunk. And You are our belief. Our love. My love. I can visualize your shy smile shining. I can hear your eyes singing. I can sense your swift movements creating an art of the most charming kind. Hopes form shape. And I see you.

Please be happy, in the forthcoming years, and please smile like an angel, the way you have been, all these years. Please embrace your world in a fondest manner. And, happy birthday.

Te quiero, te quiero. In this night I am left to murmur to you. Te quiero, te quiero.
Te quiero, te quiero. I feel my pounding heart. It say, te quiero, te quiero.
Te quiero, te quiero. Every alphabet has a tender look. Te quiero, te quiero.
Te quiero, te quiero. I long for your white joy white power. Te quiero, te quiero.
Te quiero, te quiero. For tonight, and for thousands more similar nights, you are my only god and goddess. Te quiero, te quiero.
Te quiero, te quiero. Hear me from faraway. Te quiero, te quiero.
Te quiero, te quiero. Grant me with your gentle power. Help me overcome. Help me strive on.

So I say, te quiero, te quiero.

The thoughts of you are the whitest plumage covering me sheltering me.
I fall for you and for your passion.
I undertake the pilgrimage,
To see your face.

Whatever I have missed, whatever I have witnessed, whatever I have dreamt about, whatever I have felt, I come to you at this moment, I cling to you, I seize the thought of you, I drink every air about you, I embrace everything about you. You are the bottomless past which draws me and which makes me cry, with joy, or with heartache. You are my hope my shelter that gestures to me to come closer. To read your eyes, to follow your steps, to be drunk in the whiteness of your heart your blood. Sacred White. Los Blancos. Let's celebrate the day.

Porque nosotros somos los campeones.

Template changed again, rid of all the connections with other websites, to simplify, to purify, to enclose. Hope this may bring a change to my mood, or to some of my rooted habits. Xie said real world sucks; no it doesn't. It's just that we need to be patient. To wait for the moment to come. Hope for the better. Hope for the best.

fourteen years to see you again.

Year one, met you, got to know you.
Year two, played together, with all the children. Childhood company.
Year three, you said you were moving out. And I felt the punch in my heart.
Year four, no longer shared the desk.
Year five, took a lift to school from you.
Year six, accidentally back to the same desk. saw you laugh away.
Year seven, neighbour again, but in school.
Year eight, the day you went away.
Year nine, dreaming about you.
Year ten, left the old days behind.
Year eleven, I thought I had already forgotten.
Year twelve, got into touch again. euphoria. utmost trust.
Year thirteen (now), losing touch again, but at peace.
Year fourteen(forthcoming), waiting with patience and hope.
Year fifteen(forthcoming), as my senior you will treat me. We shall not measure the distance over the years, but to chat like fifteen years ago, silently. I am looking forward to that day.



some random thoughts. do ignore me.

假如我是一只鸟，　　
我也应该用嘶哑的喉咙歌唱：　　
这被暴风雨所打击着的土地，　　
这永远汹涌着我们的悲愤的河流，　　
这无止息地吹刮着的激怒的风，　　
和那来自林间的无比温柔的黎明……　　
——然后我死了，　　
连羽毛也腐烂在土地里面。　　

为什么我的眼里常含泪水？　　
因为我对这土地爱得深沉……

-------《 我愛這土地》 艾青