
(courtesy of qinsancmy)
May eleventh. Almost half of 2008, and nearly a year in Shanghai for me, and then a year in one of my dreamed company.
Last night, I read something, not for me, but I drew my own meanings and aroused some thoughts.
The night before, a friend wrote : Dashing ahead comes at the price of oblivion.
Simple and plain, yet resounding and stunning. Like a bolt in the blue, yet I've seen bolts once in a while. At the price of oblivion, I tried to recall what was happening and what I have gained.
I recount to verify.
Recount. Friday : A day work with boredom and a pair of green shoes with glee.
Recount again. Thursday : A busy day work to complete some plans.
Recount again. Wednesday : I was frantically installing the same software like twenty times, and looking for a button that doesn't exist.
Recount again. Tuesday : That's Wednesday.
Recount again. Monday : Start of a fiendish week, and previously a cursed month.
Last week? Last month? I probably have lost trace of them, only curses left, as if I have wasted them. It is hard to comment, but I am wary, and well aware of these blurred memories which will make up the days that one would describe as empty and hollow. I ponder again : "When was the last period of days you recount your days vividly and unforgettable?"
That was the thing that struck me : "Not really, I don't recall anything concrete at least in the last year." Now this answer is certainly something I don't want, you don't want. But certainly the answer was something probably some of us have already succumbed to. Ahhh, and then you act as if you are the sobriety and then the drunken bump sneers and speaks : "Life's like that, I have had my youth, and I have had been you, and have dreamed of the wondrous future it had to be. But you got a life to live, and that means you have to work for food and so. Guess what? I see your lips moving but just speechless to refute, but then your claims are just glorified scripts, a ha! So, save for yourself, unless you got some really inspiring tale to tell kiddo! Get on with your nine and five!"
I have no tale to tell yet, but what's in me is not embers, and not like smouldering. No, I am not trying to be glorified or what, but I am just reflecting.
Oh, by the way, it is nine and nine.
(t=0x7D85000Bx015145D021F641C8E193E4D)