Failures are part and parcel of life. It makes us a better person. Bear it well. Bear it with pride. Bear it close to your heart. With every little step, look back to the failures. And spur yourself even harder.
"You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
The camera don't lie
You're coming back down and you really don't mind
You had a bad day (Oh.. Holiday..)
Sometimes the system goes on the blink
And the whole thing turns out wrong
You might not make it back and you know
That you could be well oh that strong
And I'm not wrong
So where is the passion when you need it the most"--Bad day by Daniel Powter
WWF
Friday, July 24, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
茫然
翅膀，又被铁链捆住了。无形的链叫我如何从中解脱。挣扎着，只会让自己觉得更累，伤痕也更多。在原地，只能眼睁睁地看着其他鸟儿自由的在广阔无边的蓝天飞翔，永远到达不了目的地。可能是确认的方向模糊了，没有一个明确的方向，你永远不会到达陆地，只能在原地徘徊，甚至动荡不得。倒不如暂时暂停挣扎，认清方向再从新出发。
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
《给我一双翅膀》
优等生是被人羡慕的。优等生是高高在上的。优等生甚至是被大人爱戴的。可是，优等生未必是快乐的。优等生未必是高人一等的。优等生甚至有时是众人攻击的目标，是在背后捅一刀的最佳对象。
其实，一个人当上优等生是件容易的事。你只要肯在学业上下一番苦功，肯听从长辈的话，当一个乖巧的孩子，别人就会认同你了。想当时，我就是这样冒冒失失地当上了优等生。当时的我认为父母、老师所说的话都是对的，都是很有道理，便顺着他们的指示，接受他们的教诲。在他们的教导下，我渐渐成了一个品德优良，成绩良好，不折不扣的优等生。
当我‘升’上优等生的等级时，烦恼接二连三地迎来。我是个很敏感，抵抗力弱的人，患有先天性哮喘。班上的人看到我是老师的宠儿，并且长期不用上体育课，只需做在一旁观看，他们对我的意见越来越多，渐渐地在我背后闲言闲语。我开始害怕上学，常常生病，天天以泪洗脸。在一个学期内，我的成绩从八十多分跌落到三十多分。自尊心强的我再一次的流下眼泪，再一次又被他们取笑，唤我‘哭宝’，是个懦夫。
面对长辈们失望的眼光，我不知如何应对，不断自责，觉得对不起他们，对不起自己。这时，我才明白什么是期望寄放得越高，失望就越深。为了不再让这件事重演，我把情感封锁了，只在单独一人时解放出来。
“冷月葬花有谁怜”，我越把我感情丰富的一面埋在心地底，越能把事情处理得妥当，周围的人越容易误解我，忘了我是人，是有七情六欲的人。十年的自我约束使我成了在陌生人眼中的冰人，在老师眼里的优等生，值得信赖的学生，把我捧上如今这个傲人的职位。我深知职位越高，责任就越重，就更要注意我的言行举止。我还是接下了这个职位，承担多一份压力，认为只有经过火焰的洗礼，麻雀才会变成朱雀。
如今的我累了，身心疲惫了，好想卸下包袱。在十八年里，我第一次品尝了渴望依靠别人的滋味。可是，冰冷的理智不应许我这么做，一旦有人想接近我，我立刻戴上了面具，使他们疏远我，能将心比心的朋友少之又少，深怕再一次的被伤害，再次的令长辈失望。
名誉、期望使我如同没有翅膀的鸟儿，行走起来极为艰辛。名誉会使人重视你，但名誉的背后是期望。我宁可当个普通的少年，宁愿思考能力差，宁愿不明白世理。给我一双翅膀，给我一把自由的钥匙。哦，不，错了。翅膀是要找你的，不是别人给的。信仰是我多年来的力量之源，是支撑我的翅膀。处在繁忙、充满虚幻的社会的你感到疲惫时，不乏停下脚步，找一找你的翅膀。
二零零八年十一月一日
其实，一个人当上优等生是件容易的事。你只要肯在学业上下一番苦功，肯听从长辈的话，当一个乖巧的孩子，别人就会认同你了。想当时，我就是这样冒冒失失地当上了优等生。当时的我认为父母、老师所说的话都是对的，都是很有道理，便顺着他们的指示，接受他们的教诲。在他们的教导下，我渐渐成了一个品德优良，成绩良好，不折不扣的优等生。
当我‘升’上优等生的等级时，烦恼接二连三地迎来。我是个很敏感，抵抗力弱的人，患有先天性哮喘。班上的人看到我是老师的宠儿，并且长期不用上体育课，只需做在一旁观看，他们对我的意见越来越多，渐渐地在我背后闲言闲语。我开始害怕上学，常常生病，天天以泪洗脸。在一个学期内，我的成绩从八十多分跌落到三十多分。自尊心强的我再一次的流下眼泪，再一次又被他们取笑，唤我‘哭宝’，是个懦夫。
面对长辈们失望的眼光，我不知如何应对，不断自责，觉得对不起他们，对不起自己。这时，我才明白什么是期望寄放得越高，失望就越深。为了不再让这件事重演，我把情感封锁了，只在单独一人时解放出来。
“冷月葬花有谁怜”，我越把我感情丰富的一面埋在心地底，越能把事情处理得妥当，周围的人越容易误解我，忘了我是人，是有七情六欲的人。十年的自我约束使我成了在陌生人眼中的冰人，在老师眼里的优等生，值得信赖的学生，把我捧上如今这个傲人的职位。我深知职位越高，责任就越重，就更要注意我的言行举止。我还是接下了这个职位，承担多一份压力，认为只有经过火焰的洗礼，麻雀才会变成朱雀。
如今的我累了，身心疲惫了，好想卸下包袱。在十八年里，我第一次品尝了渴望依靠别人的滋味。可是，冰冷的理智不应许我这么做，一旦有人想接近我，我立刻戴上了面具，使他们疏远我，能将心比心的朋友少之又少，深怕再一次的被伤害，再次的令长辈失望。
名誉、期望使我如同没有翅膀的鸟儿，行走起来极为艰辛。名誉会使人重视你，但名誉的背后是期望。我宁可当个普通的少年，宁愿思考能力差，宁愿不明白世理。给我一双翅膀，给我一把自由的钥匙。哦，不，错了。翅膀是要找你的，不是别人给的。信仰是我多年来的力量之源，是支撑我的翅膀。处在繁忙、充满虚幻的社会的你感到疲惫时，不乏停下脚步，找一找你的翅膀。
二零零八年十一月一日
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
“Memories”
A walk down the memory lane
where the dead are alive,
where happiness ruled.
Fleeting events
haunting like
birds of prey
tugging at the edge of sanity.
Scenes which were best left dead,
reeling in rolls and rolls,
again and again…
Dead seven sins
Resurrected in the flowery lane, wait, no
in the breathing world.
Burning scenes
of sloth
of gluttony
of pride
of greed
of envy
of lust
of wrath
*burning, burning.
Waves of guilt and shame
crash into us
again, again.
Never-ending hell.
Where’s tranquility?
Ghost of the past
laid down to rest?
* or
burning, burning
burning, scorching, or
scorching, burning?
Hot? Pain?
Guilt? Shame?
Who cares?
Ghost of past
laid down to rest?
Who cares?
where the dead are alive,
where happiness ruled.
Fleeting events
haunting like
birds of prey
tugging at the edge of sanity.
Scenes which were best left dead,
reeling in rolls and rolls,
again and again…
Dead seven sins
Resurrected in the flowery lane, wait, no
in the breathing world.
Burning scenes
of sloth
of gluttony
of pride
of greed
of envy
of lust
of wrath
*burning, burning.
Waves of guilt and shame
crash into us
again, again.
Never-ending hell.
Where’s tranquility?
Ghost of the past
laid down to rest?
* or
burning, burning
burning, scorching, or
scorching, burning?
Hot? Pain?
Guilt? Shame?
Who cares?
Ghost of past
laid down to rest?
Who cares?
Hell
Dead?
Not yet.
Hades said it wasn’t time yet.
Whips, and thorns (of seven deadly sins)
torturing battered bodies
which was secured to
chains that hung for ceilings
where red rubies dropped
to the pool of dried brown patch.
Screams of horror
turned into silent pleads
that was not headed at all.
Once crystal clear tears,
which rolled down the cheek
are now coloured in red.
Poison
which was forced down the throat
burned every places
it reached.
Hurried footsteps
heard outside in the forest
were silenced
by the gun fires.
With blistering foot, and rotting wounds
she pressed on
deep into the forest,
leaving a trail of black blood
that pollute the nature’s own fruits.
Soft, silent waters
that washes away dirt,
failed to do so
on the weary prisoners forever.
Dead?
No.
Not yet.
Hanging to a thread of life.
It's not time yet.
(written in 8/7/06)
Not yet.
Hades said it wasn’t time yet.
Whips, and thorns (of seven deadly sins)
torturing battered bodies
which was secured to
chains that hung for ceilings
where red rubies dropped
to the pool of dried brown patch.
Screams of horror
turned into silent pleads
that was not headed at all.
Once crystal clear tears,
which rolled down the cheek
are now coloured in red.
Poison
which was forced down the throat
burned every places
it reached.
Hurried footsteps
heard outside in the forest
were silenced
by the gun fires.
With blistering foot, and rotting wounds
she pressed on
deep into the forest,
leaving a trail of black blood
that pollute the nature’s own fruits.
Soft, silent waters
that washes away dirt,
failed to do so
on the weary prisoners forever.
Dead?
No.
Not yet.
Hanging to a thread of life.
It's not time yet.
(written in 8/7/06)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)