三十六雨記憶拼圖 ◎厚厚糖粉薑餅屋◎ senza zucchero

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鍾離繡

外貌協會會長

級別: 天使

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本命: 臥江、少艾、章袤
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鮮花(81)

80樓發表於: 2007-08-18 16:18

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[ 此貼被天舞繡月在08/18/2007 09:20 AM重新編輯 ]

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采風

水波不興

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鮮花(39)

81樓發表於: 2007-08-20 01:20

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吾乃星空下的漫遊者，夜晚的子民。

痛徹心扉，才能成就圓滿。

十年如白駒過隙，一朝回首，紅塵夢裡笑枉然。

十里青山雲簇簇，一條丹水石嶙嶙。

Sometimes affection is a shy flower that takes time to blossom.
Sometimes, however, such flower never exist from the beginning.

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鍾離繡

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級別: 天使

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鮮花(81)

82樓發表於: 2007-09-05 21:22

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Soap

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[ 此貼被天舞繡月在09/21/2007 11:19 AM重新編輯 ]

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鍾離繡

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鮮花(81)

83樓發表於: 2007-09-10 13:04

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課表

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[ 此貼被天舞繡月在09/11/2007 08:12 AM重新編輯 ]

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鍾離繡

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鮮花(81)

84樓發表於: 2007-09-15 20:39

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My Honest Voice

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鍾離繡

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鮮花(81)

85樓發表於: 2007-09-21 19:04

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Best Moment

Note: Contents fictional.

Word Count: 353

- - - - - - -

“The urge to jump off,” I said.

She watched the workers across the street thoughtfully. Her hand raised and smoothed the flying hair. “Those poor souls better be far from considering suicides,” she said. “It’s too easy for them.”

“It’s easy for everyone,” I replied, pausing, getting back. “And hard.” I took a bite from my sandwich and chewed. We continued to watch the workers silently. Their shirts were stained yellow and dusty. Faces sweating, backs in pain, yet so focused on their work. “If I want,” I said abruptly, “I can jump off right here.” I turned to her. “It’s easy. We’re on third floor…although I’d rather jump from a taller building. Maybe with some forty floors, like those in downtown.”

“But it’s hard.”

“But it’s hard,” I repeated her, lifting my head and watched the gray-blue sky. It was as if raindrops were expected in any moment. How far is the difference between a cloudy day and a rainy day? All the same to me.

“Which song is it that goes, ‘even if I could it’d all be grey…’?” she suddenly asked. She was watching the same thing as me. The sky. It’s always grey in the winter.

“Thank You,” I said, “by Dido.”

“Right,” she said. Her eyes seemed to have reached beyond those workers. “Nice song, huh? How it goes, ‘Oh, just to be with you…is having the best day of my life…’ ” Her voice trailed off as we both gazed at the sparrows flying across the sky. They chirped with the sounds of machines just across the streets.

“Best moment, rather,” I said. The chilly wind blew and pierced our cheeks, now red and froze up. But we didn’t care. Even if our scarves fly off with that dancing wind, there’ll be a mere cry, a mere haste, a mere whine, and be it.

We went silent. The workers were still working, restlessly and vigorously, just across the street. The wind turned and twirled, cracked and cackled. The trees whispered the sounds of wind, of rain, of wintry blazes. Only heard by us, and no one else.

- - - - - - -

September 20, 2007

[ 此貼被天舞繡月在09/21/2007 06:29 PM重新編輯 ]

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鍾離繡

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鮮花(81)

86樓發表於: 2007-09-22 02:26

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Silence

Note: Contents fictional.

Word Count: 339

- - - - -

That guy over there was reading his comics again. He curled up in his seat like a creature in the cold. He wouldn’t sit. He would only curl. How hard was it to make a presentable posture? Or to produce a presentable child. That dude was a mess. I hated his glasses. Those two round lenses with a thick black frame made him look totally idiotic. Pathetic, foolish little guy.

My stomach grumbled. Its throat completely dry yet forced to do so. Its yells were heard, by myself, yet avoided, for the time was not right. It wasn’t time for my poor stomach’s concert yet. So my pencil sang with it. It glided across the paper, fast and quick, detached and lively, in staccato and vivacity. It danced, lines and lines, across from left to right, and up, and down, in a movement of gracefulness, but agitatedly, all so fast and quick.

The old man flipped his newspaper. He sat at his desk, glasses on, chin on hand, eyes gazing at those pages and pages of ridiculous newly known facts that are strangely called “news.” My fellow mates were as if children of his, all so quiet, all so silent, all so drown into their own little world, but as if. Some duplicates, mimicking, imitating.

And so suddenly it went the bell. Something shifted, as if the Earth has just made its turn and forced us into the shadows. The masks were put off back on shelves. Blabbermouths, words, and teenagers, they all work together. The atmosphere was flying, twirling, speeding, and spinning around, revolving and changing, and turning and rotating, it was running. And my pencil could not stop. It fluttered and trembled and swirled and spun. And turning and changing, soaring everywhere. I quivered and shivered, biting on my lip and blinking at that brightness that came so abruptly, and so suddenly. None of those crazy words flying through the air had made sounds more beautiful than pages flipping and my pencil gliding. They broke the magic.

- - - - -

September 21, 2007

[ 此貼被天舞繡月在09/22/2007 07:18 AM重新編輯 ]

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鍾離繡

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鮮花(81)

87樓發表於: 2007-09-22 02:44

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Father

Note: Contents fictional.

Word Count: 240

- - - - -

Father came home yesterday at eleven at night. Just to check on the kid, he said to his phone before he rang that doorbell. Just to check.

He didn’t need to check if he didn’t want to. I didn’t need him to “just to check.” He never understood that what I needed weren’t the cell phones or i-Pods. As long as he would just stay, just one night, just for one night he’d stay and I’d give up my laptop for that.

I phoned him ten minutes ago. He didn’t answer, didn’t pick up that phone of his. I didn’t even know where he lives, except that it was somewhere near that office of his so he could be there right after he wakes up. I used to think that he lives in the office. He’s just living out there, with someone else. Someone else. Some woman, maybe.

I chose to be a kid who screws around in life and at school. I never attended parent conferences. I told the teachers I don’t have one. Have what? they would ask. Have a parent, I would answer. And they’d go on about all the guardian matters I hear every year, and I’d just ignore them. They’ve called my home phone a zillion times and knocked on my door a zillion times. But I ignored, and I never cared about getting into trouble, getting into detentions and suspensions. I just never cared.

- - - - -

September 21, 2007

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鍾離繡

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鮮花(81)

88樓發表於: 2007-09-22 02:56

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Run

Note: Contents fictional.

Word Count: 115

- - - - -

G, H, I, J, K…

Dusts flying. Orange dusts. Brownish, orange dusts. They’re flying with my feet that fall down and kick up. A wave of dusts.

I’m running. Running fast. Running under the sun, under the clouds, and under those unseen moon and stars. I’m running on the track, running the browns, on the earth. The sun hangs in the middle of that grey, grey sky.

220, 230, 240, 250, 260…

Letter. Numbers. They run with me. Run with my soul. Or is it left behind my feet? Is it kicked by my own feet and torn with my own hands? I just run on, and run and run and run. Just run on.

- - - - -

September 21, 2007

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鍾離繡

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鮮花(81)

89樓發表於: 2007-09-23 22:05

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If Only

Note: Contents fictional.

Word Count: 154

- - - - -

She was really a great mother.

The last time I saw her, she was lying on that bed so pure and white. Yet it was the last place where she had lay, consciously. It was where death had finally claimed that soul so strong and full of will.

Her hair had fallen and yes, she was a skeleton with skin and dying organs. But she never gave up, not until the last breath of hers.

But I just lost my mother. And I could only imagine her smile when she had let out that breath, on that bed in the hospital where she had lay for months and months. My dear optimistic mother had left.

If only I had the chance to thank her for being such a mother. If only I had the chance to bid my last farewell.

And wouldn’t it be nice if I had told her that I love her?

- - - - -

September 22, 2007

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My Honest Voice

Best Moment

If Only