Two Movie Tickets…

There was, that movie we both wanted to go see, and, I took the liberty, to pre-order the tickets, and yet, I’d, never gone, to see it, with you!

Two movie tickets, they’d, become, yellowed through time, and, they’re, still there, inside that original envelope that they’d come in when I first bought them.

查看來源圖片like, these???  Image found online…

Two movie tickets, we’d, never gotten the opportunities, to go see that “must-see” movie for us both, remember how excited we once were, when it’d, finally come out, we’d, watched the previews on the T.V. commercials, and, saw the segments of it, as we’d, gone to see another movie, remember? And now, those two tickets became, a SORE sort of a reminder, of how easily, things, go to waste!

The two movie tickets, became metaphor of you, of me, it’d become, outdated, the movie had, gone off screen, having run for a couple of weeks, and, everybody who’d, wanted to see it, had already, seen it, save for the both of us…

Two movie tickets, that, was what our love was, reduced to, how odd, that something that was, once so precious, to you and I, can get reduced, to very, quickly, to something, that became, totally, outdated! Two movie tickets, that, is perhaps, what, our love, became: outdated, shown too many times that it’d, grown, old.

breaking up  的圖片結果the one, left behind…photo from online…

Two movie tickets, I still got ‘em here, saved, inside my wallet, don’t know why? Perhaps, to remind myself, to NEVER fall for someone like you again, who knows……………









The Age of Our Regrets…

This is, a brand NEW E-R-A of our lives: the Age of Our Regrets…

The age of our regrets, comprised, of ALL of our broken dreams, all of those, could’ve, would’ve, should’ve been’s, they’d, finally, gotten, caught UP with us through the years which had, flown past too quickly.

The age of our regrets, there’s, no way we can, rid ourselves of them, they’re, everywhere now, just like, how they were, everywhere before, it’s just, we’d, failed to, NOTICE their presences in our lives is all.

The age of our regrets, let’s count them, shall we??? I regret…being BORN (for starters), having gotten RAPED as a young child (still NOT my fault!!!), not killing myself successfully back in high school (STRIKE T-H-R-E-E!!!), meeting UP with you (not my fault, it was FATE, in MY defense!!!), and the list just runs on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, you get the “picture”, don’t you???

The age of our regrets, you can take ALL your regrets, and you can, EAT them all up, and CHOKE on it, I have ZERO regret, period! Because that, is HOW I CHOOSE to live this god DAMN F***ED up (it was, but not anymore!!!) life of mine!

I Know You’re Quite Uncertain, But That’s Okay, a Poem

The only thing that’s certain here is, EVERYTHING G-O-E-S, away!!! Translated…

The Light’s Sure of the Fuses

The Fires, Certainly Hot

The Wind’s Certain of Hugs

The Flowers, Destined, to Wither


Certain of the Time


Certain of Me

So, this, is the certains of that inevitable goodbye, no matter how close the two of you are right now, everything will eventually, END, just like how the flowers will eventually, wither away, how the fires are certainly always and forever going to be, H-O-T, because everything WILL eventually, come to that E-N-D, as it’s all, supposed to.





Pour Me that Cup of Your Solitude…

Pour me that cup of your solitude, why don’t you? You KNOW you want to share that with someone, might as well be me, ‘cuz I’m the only one available, who’ll, lend you, my helping ear!

You’d, poured me that cup of your solitude, and I’d, taken a sip, and immediately, I’d, spat it back out, it’d tasted so awful, so bitter, and acidic that it’d, burned my esophagus, as it trickled down my throat.

查看來源圖片like this???  Photo from online…

Pour me that cup of your solitude, share with me, those lonely dreams of yours, and you will, still feel just as, if not more so, lonely compared to when you’d, come in…

Pour me that cup of your solitude if you will, but, don’t expect me, that I’ll, allow you, to force feed it down into my throat! I won’t take it, I don’t want your solitude, it’s something that’s, B-A-D, I’d much rather, taste that bitter cup of my own solitude, all alone, without you there.

Pour me that cup of your solitude, that, is what you want to do, to SHARE with me, your loneliness, but, I don’t want NONE of that, I don’t want YOUR solitude, I have my own, and my solitude, is WAY, WAY, W-A-Y better than yours!!!

Are All Taiwanese Girls Like You?

Love’s boundary being, blurred here, and, she still has no way of knowing, if this younger guy liked her, translated…

How Do I Tell Him, that When He’d Asked Me Out, He Looked So Serious, Like a “Man”? That He No Longer Looked Anything Like that Little Boy I Felt Secure with………

A Successful Foreign Relations?

The first time I’d met him from across the straits, his mother who looked only a little bit had him call me “older sister”. I thought, this boy looked so childish, he’s probably not yet twenty? And, him calling me an “older sister”, it’d, made me feel bashful, but, if the first time we’d met, I’d opened with, “I’m old enough to be his mother, he can call me ‘aunty’.”, wouldn’t that be, even more, awkward.

第一次和來自對岸的他碰面,他那看來大我不了幾歲的媽媽,客氣地要他喚我「姊姊」。我...illustration from the papers online…

Later, I’d learned, that his parents divorced when he was quite young, his mother married to Taiwan, while he’d stayed in China with his father, but he wasn’t cherished or loved, and, almost sent into an orphanage, and, in the end, he was, sent to a relative’s to live. And, because I’d felt bad over what he’d gone through, and I’d wanted to show him how welcoming the Taiwanese people are, I’d treated him like he was my younger brother for real, hoping, that there’s nothing but good memories for his time here.

Once at the end of a gathering, I’d asked him if he knew how to take the bus home, he’d told me he didn’t yet, and I’d, told him, “I’ll give you a lift home!”, he was a bit, surprised, but quickly nodded okay. But, we’d, gotten lost! And of course, this was, my fault, forgotten how he just arrived here, that all the streets looked alike, and I’d not confirmed it with him, and, wasted a lot of time.

I kept apologizing to him, but, he’s not, the least bit angry, and told me that he was, in an especially good mood, felt that sitting behind me was like going for a ride, then he’d asked loudly, “Are all the girls in Taiwan like you?”, like me? Because I was busy, trying to find the way, and didn’t want it to become awkward, I’d not asked him further, and stated that, “Taiwanese people are helpful to those in need.

And, it didn’t matter how I’d answered him it seemed, he’d continued ranting on, if that all the girls in Taiwan are like me, then, he’d definitely like the girls in Taiwan, unlike the girls there, all they cared about were themselves, and ignored people. Although I had my back towards him, couldn’t see his face, but, from his lifted tone, I could feel, that he was, very happy. As he’d said, he’d announced further, “I originally hated it here, but because of you, I’m now, in love with Taiwan!”

After hearing all of these “professions of love”, I’d become, flustered. But I’d told myself, that maybe, the people from the Mainland are straight forward, that he probably not meant anything by it, just treat this as a successfully international relation.

Do You Want to Go Out for a Walk Later?

The times we’d met up, although we’d met in groups, he’d especially loved striking up conversations with me, one day he’d even asked me quietly, “Do you want to go out for a bit a little later?”, I’d made up some bullshitting reason, turned him down, not long thereafter, he’d opened up again, “Give me your cell phone number then!”, I’d become, stunned, then, stuttered, “Maybe later.” “Why?”, he’d pressed me, and seeing how I’d grinned so awkwardly, he’d finally, stopped asking me.

I knew he was angry, anybody can get angry, after getting shot down twice. But how do I tell him, that he’d looked so serious, like a man when he’d asked me, he was, no longer that naïve boy with whom I felt comfortable, letting my guards down? I panicked. I was, afraid, what if, I couldn’t, handle it?

And in the end, he’d gone, like that wind, leaving behind, the regrets I’d felt about what happened with him.

Had I just told him, that our age differences is too great…if I can, control my passions toward him more…not led him on…maybe, maybe, he had, only wanted, to make friends with me, perhaps, I’d, read too much into it, and, chosen, to make my escape.

But, that, was it, no amount of assumptions is going to change a thing. And now, I can only, wish that he is, no longer, tied up by those, unpleasantries of his past, no matter where he is, he can, live his days happily.

And, maybe, this woman read too much into the signs, maybe, the guy had, liked her, and, the woman kept her guards down, because she didn’t want to lead this younger man on, and so, she’d, tried to turn him down gently, that, was the only thing she could do, at that time, and now, as she thought back, there’s nothing she could’ve done differently, to know more, and so, all she can wish was that this younger guy is living his life with everything he wants in life.

Sleeping Beauty, a Poem of Confessions of Love

How can the kiss of D-E-A-T-H be anything that remotely looks like L-O-V-E, huh??? Translated…

How I Longed to be Sleeping Beauty

After You’d Planted that Kiss on My Lips

I Shall, Never Wake Up Again

So, perhaps, you want to stay asleep, so you can, keep dreaming about being kissed by your prince? But, what if, it’s NOT the princes who came to kiss you, but T-O-A-D-S, huh???

here’s that “prince”, kissing sleeping beauty…查看來源圖片from the Disney productions, from online…






What My Dear Wife Told Me When She Divorces Me

A visit to his sons’ nanny had roused up so many memories of shared conversations with his own wife, translated…

I rang the doorbell twice, the steel door from the first floor, slowly, opened up, like it’d, taken the orders from some unheard signals. I’d climbed up those, familiar steps, realized that don’t know when, the third floor residents had, changed their doors. Without having the time to breathe, or sigh on how my manopause had, finally hit me, I’d found, that Mumu was waiting by my fifth-floor home outside.

“Ah, I’d told you I’d come to your house, your wife told me it wasn’t, necessary, said that you could drop by after work……”, Mumu said.

I’d taken that back of salty glutinous balls, on the way home. Saw how Mumu had, made the meat-filled rice balls at the marketplaces, wrapped with a layer of newspaper, to keep the foods from getting wet, and put it all inside a red-white striped plastic bag so I can carry them home with ease. In the evening of the basin of Taipei, when the temperatures dropped to below ten, I’d felt, that warmth from my hometown down south.

Mumu, was the nanny of my two children. At the start, to find a nanny, my wife became like an octopus, and, used her three hearts, and searched for the passions of the nannies she’d interviewed; plus those three levels worth of neural control tracking system, to see which nannies had the licensures, with the mind for business, but without the hearts; then, used the suction plates to cross-compare the testimonies of everybody she contacted, in that era where Facebook was still in the making. Then, the final touch: chose a sunny afternoon, to pay the nannies an abrupt visit to see how they’d reacted.

Before I’d entered into the top three nannies of choices, I’d rung the doorbell, and started screaming at the top of my lungs, “Ahhhhhhhhhhh, I thought I just passed by, so can I come in and see you, about the child I need you to look after, yes, now, would it be, convenient for you? Thanks.” I’m not really sure, that if that was, from my wife’s French horn playing days as a teenager, that it’d, caused her breath to be, son long winded, or if it was from her being a mother.

“How would you know it’s her?”, I’d recalled asking the question. In the end, she’d found Mumu, who wasn’t even, licensed as a nanny, but who had what counted the most, to us, two ANAL parents, a heart that loves and cherishes a child. It’s, instinct, my wife’d, told me.

I’d carried the bag of handmade meat rice balls, on the way home. Suddenly, I’d recalled how when my sons were still quite young, as they were being nannied in Mumu’s home, don’t know what got into me, but I’d asked my wife, “If we get divorced later, and you and I can only take one child with us, who will you choose?”, that was like that brain-dead question of “who are you going to save, your girlfriend or your mother if they’re both, drowning?”

My dearest wife told me, that when she divorces me, she will choose to take our eldest. Don’t know why but she’d become, extremely, concentrating. “Why?”, back then, I’d asked the question with that serious manner, but later, I’d felt, that I was, being stupid. “The younger is healthier, he’ll do find with you as his caretaker. But the eldest is not as healthy, he has asthma, I could look after him better.”

On the evening of the Lamp Festivals, it was like Christmas came early, it’d, reminded me of how I need to count my blessings, and be grateful for what I’d been given in life.

And so, this is the man’s mind, and, it’s all hypothetical that this stupid question was blurted out by this man earlier, and, the wife’s thoughts were more considerate, and, visiting the nanny of his two children had reminded of how important the women in the writer’s life are, and surely, he would, appreciate them more!