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!!!


Ordinary, a Poem

The solace, found in the solitude, translated…

The Bird Flew Before the Man

Left the Thoughts Behind

That Man Waited for Inspirations to Come

to Capture Himself

The Muses that Passed by

in the Reflections of Light

Turned into its, Original Form

the Colors, Fading Away from the Solitude

And so, this just showed, how you can only find inspirations that are meaningful, when you’re, locked in the confines of your own solitude, and this is absolutely true, because you can’t hear the silences from all around, when you’re, in the middle of the noisy crowd, you need someplace quiet, where you can, meditate…

Love is, Deleting What isn’t Loved, a Poem

Falling out of love slowly, and in the end, there’s, NO tears to be shed, because, everything was, said, and done, translated…

There are, the Dry and the Humid Days

The Leaves Carried the Scents of Birth and Wither Away

the Wind Knows it Best

The Sand that, Sifted Through the Season of Summer

The Eulogies of Snow from the Winters

The Details of My Senses

Love is, Deleting What isn’t Loved

The Sun Passed Through Quietly

the Hairlines of the Mountains, in Between the Fields

The Birds that Sung Their Songs, the Flowers Bloomed, the Twisting and Turning in Love of the Streams and Creeks

There’s the Colder and Hotter, more Passionate Kisses

The Morning Fog Tastes Sweeter than the Light at Sunset

You’d, Stroked the Chords of the Fields of Grains

Harvested Through My Richness

Choosing to be the Rains that Fall Instead of the Umbrellas

Becoming the Holes, and Not the Keys

I’d Turned, as You Would be

the Eyes of Time

Moving Those Days of Our love

that Separated the Dry and the Wet of Memories

And so there’s, this scent of finding that closure that one needed, from a lost love of sorts, they’d weathered through the various seasons, and, got along very well, but, eventually, it still, didn’t, quite work out, and so, the narrator, let the lost love of her/his life go gently…

The Gifts of Love, an Accidental Hobby

Something so small, that can give you, so much joy, translated…

Some people chase after the maple leaves, the snow, the Pokémon, while I’m in love with chasing the beans (the peacock beans).

Another name for the peacock beans are red beans, the heart-shaped seeds are translucent, and I loved it so.

Perhaps, I was, influenced by the poet, Wei Wang’s beliefs about the beans, or maybe, I got infected by the character’s emotions, I’d felt especially close, to these, heart-shaped, red beans, and, as I’d seen the jewelries made from the beans by my friend, it’d, sparked my desire to collect them.

I’d hated the cold and loved the sun from before, but now, I’d, looked forward to the rain and the strong winds, because, those high red beans will only fall when there’s strong wind and rain. I’d walked around, as I hunted for treasures, didn’t fear the cold to say the least, since I’d become a solid fan of “Chasing the beans”, I’d finally understood those who’d gone all over the places to hunt for their Pokémons.

I remember when I first started, it was a windy afternoon. I was walking in the park, saw a lot of people, old and young, circling around a tree, as I was curious, and stopped to look, then, “SMACK!”, something hit my head, I’d focused, there were, several, heart-shaped, shiny beans that’s, rolled to my feet. As a reflex, I’d, bent over, picked them up, like the bean fans I’d come into contact with in the park.

illustration from the papers online…圖/陳完玲

Suddenly, I was, enchanted, I’d started, walking around the trees like everybody else. And, as I’d picked up a bean, it was like I’d gained some priceless treasures, especially when the entire pod fell before me, in the spirally pods, there were, over ten bright colored red beans, I’d become so excited, so ecstatic I couldn’t say a word, I was happy for the rest of the day.

After that day, I’d gone to that same place, to wait for the beans to fall, and after I’d become “bean friends” with the locals and those who’d come especially for the occasions. We’d, first observed the tips of the tree, to find the pods, then, we’d, found our separate places, then, waited, for the wind, then, we’d, bent over, start picking up the beans, it was, very interesting.

“There are two here…three behind you! And over there too………”, the rustling sound of the leaves sounded like a symphony, with the excited hollers of the bean pickers, the sounds became so harmonious.

Remembered how I’d met an elderly man, who entered into the line of looking too, but, he’d kept calling out from behind me, turns out, he’d used the bending down to pick up the beans to stretch his muscles, and, gave the beans he’d found at random away, to those around him.

here is the pendant made from the beans, photo from online…查看來源圖片

“You need to look carefully, it would hide in the grasses, the piles of leaves, or you may need to tear apart the pods to find them.”

“Grandpa, you have great eyes, thanks, be healthy, and live long!”

He was smiling so radiantly, that kind smile infected me too. A small red bean had, the enormous powers of healing, so amazing!

Looking at the small red beans inside the jars, and as I shook the jars, they’d made the clinking noises, I felt so blessed. Although I’m not as handy as my friend, couldn’t make them into decorations or bracelets or necklaces, but, prepare a small glass jar, drop the beans in, with some paper stars as company, a small gift with all the blessings had appeared.

The gifts of love, I shall, give to those I love, hope, that they get to share, that bliss that’s, filled with joy from me.

And, this, is what you’d found by accident, and, you’d, joined in the line, and, found something fun to do, and, you were able to, share that scent of bliss you’d found from picking up the beans with those you love, with these, special, handmade gifts.

The Retired Volunteer Was Passionate, Became a Second Mom to Children Who Have Cerebral Palsy

Giving back to the community, and helping those in need surely does put that meaning back into your life after you’d retired, doesn’t it??? From the Newspapers, translated…

“Volunteer in exchange for room” is no longer a specialty for the younger generations, the sixty-three-year-old volunteer, Mei-Jing Tsai looked after the cerebral palsy patients, the elderly, not only did she receive the opportunity of “Journey with the Heart Volunteer Program” from Eden Welfare Foundation, she’d also regained that feeling of being needed.

Mei-Jing Tsai worked in the banking industries from before, her husband died early, and her children are all grown up and with their own families now, and there’s just her back home, and she’d become, a hotblooded elderly with no need to worry; seven years ago, she’d started volunteering, she’d volunteered in the hospice ward in Veteran’s Memorial Hospital, as well as on the suicide prevention hotlines too.

Three years ago, she’d learned that the Yilan Home took in people with Downs’s Syndrome, cerebral palsy as well as severely mentally and physically ill residents, she’d gone across half of Taiwan, to care for these “elderly children”. Tsai became the eldest volunteer in the Yilan Home, but she’s full of compassion and patience, and stayed with the patients as they get trained to learn the basics in living.

重度腦麻患者小娟(右)很喜歡志工蔡美瑾,見面常給一個大擁抱。 記者張芮瑜/攝影photo of the womean with cerebral palsy interacting with the volunteer, showing how much she’d appreciated her for volunteering…photo from UND.com…

The thirty-year-old Juan who’s diagnosed with the severe sort of cerebral palsy, her mature mind was, kept locked up by her distorted body, she’d stayed for ten years in the Yilan home, but her families rarely came to visit her; every time she’d missed them, she’d, pointed to the telephone, and Tsai became like a second mother to her, helped her learn to dial the phones.

Juan couldn’t talk, but can point to the cards to communicate. Tsai said, once Juan used her trembling hands to point out “I love you” on the picture charts, it’d made her cry.

Tsai met the Vietnamese nurse’s aide who’d worked in Taiwan for nine years too, her son came to Taiwan to work just seven months ago, but one of them worked in Yilan, the other, Nantou, the two of them were separated by the Central Mountain Range, and never saw each other. Tsai used her spare time from work, to lift her son from Taichung to Yilan, so they can meet up, the mother and son cried and held each other tight when they met up.

“I want that feeling of being needed again,” Tsai told, that the elderly handicapped patients were reliant on the hired staff, and when they see new volunteers, they’d become, very excited, every year coming to the home was like a homecoming, she’d treated the residents like they were her families too, she’d never felt that it was, trying one bit. Next year, she’d wanted go deeper into the mountains, to go to Datong County in Yilan, to accompany the native elderly who’d needed the services more.

And so, this woman is giving back to the community, because she saw a need, and it’d made her feel more satisfied, because that is what helping others brings you, it makes you more fulfilled, it makes our lives become more meaningful.

A Unique Collection

A unique way you mark the passages of your life, that’s, different from everybody else’s, translated…

Strolling down those streets with shops on the sides, there are, assortments of clothing, with the various materials too, and, they are made everywhere, here, China, Japan, Korea and U.S., etc., etc. Of them all, what’d attracted me wasn’t the prices, nor was it the selections of the various shops, but, the tags that showed where the clothes were made from.

a collection of cloth tags like this???  Photo from online…查看來源圖片

And, all of these tags seemed unimportant, but, looking at them more closely, there are not just the names of the company or brand printed, the type fonts used were also, quite unique as well, everything from the cutesy cartoon styles, the ladies collections, the rock-n-roll trends, or the black and white simplified styles, I’d loved each and every one, they’d, made my eyes alit.

And, after awhile, although I’d buy the clothes that would fit me right, but, if the tags had, attracted me to them, then, I’d, started, itching again, and, my desire to buy would hike up too high, and sometimes, without even thinking, suddenly, I’d been drawn to buy the item, because of the designs of the tags, like I’m, made of money.

And, as I’d gone home with my “winnings”, I’d not change into the new clothes immediately, instead, I’d, snipped off the tags, and started looking at them front and back, I’d even sketched them onto my notebook, then, placed them like treasures, inside that beloved iron tin box. After a few years, I’d, accumulated a lot of the tags, and, the tags stacked up, into this, mobile catalogue, and, as I saw the tag, I’d immediately gotten reminded of what the item looked like, and how I’d felt at the moment of buying it. As I looked, that sense of joys came, and I’d found, that from when I was little, I’d, collected stickers, then, bookmarks, and now, the clothes tags, even though it’s nothing to others, but to me, it’s, a sort of an emotional outlet for me, that satisfaction that comes with owning, and, it’s absolutely correct, that I have, a obsession for collecting these items.

Every time I’d tidied up my room, and started flipping through the tags I’d collected, and, I’d, also taken a walk into my own past, and, I’m grateful, that this collection of the unique had helped healed what I’d lost, and, kept track of the memories over the years. In the future, I shall, collect more of what’s unique to me, and, reminisce through them all one by one.

So, this, is how you make your scrapbook, not by photos, but by the tags of the clothes you’d bought, and, it’s a unique way that you’d found, to keep track of what mattered to you in life.

Trips Alone

Being an avid observer, of the surrounding environments, the life of a people-watcher, translated…

Because of work, I’d needed to have roundtrip travels from Hualien to Taipei and Taipei, to Hualien, in order to save up the fares, I’d often taken the “transferring commutes”, taking the double decker busses for some way, then the trains. This waiting and transferring, transferring and waiting, sometimes, I’d felt tension, and I’d, gazed out the windows, and suddenly, felt very relaxed, like it is, a sort of a miniature “trips alone” out of my ordinary life.

like this???  Photo from online…

In the process of my commute, I’d often initiate my “small theatre” mode, guessing at which seat I would be, given, would it be window seat, or aisle seat, would I get to see the sea? Or that I’d, start to observe the passengers all around me, from their ages, to what they’re wearing, to what games they’re, playing on their cell phone, the images from their FB homepage (am I being, too observant?), their LINE conversation (am I, breach someone else’s privacy?), listening in on the conversations (can someone call the police on me for that?)………all of these, are the points of origin of my imagination, I wanted to know, who the person who was, sitting closest to me was?

For a while, I’d even gotten so nutty, that I’d had to get the seat on the first row on the busses, that way, I got to, observe the driver at a close distance, and, his name would be, right up overhead, in front of me! In the age of Google, you will leave behind, an electronic footprint if you log online, and other than just imagining people’s lives, I get to, cross-check the facts, and, I’d often, lost control, in the one-hour ride, to the point that as I got off, and thanked the driver, I’d, actually became, genuine.

查看來源圖片like this???  Not my photo…

And so, this, is being a people watcher, and this person enjoys it, because, there are, NOT many other alternative “forms of entertainment”, so, he’d found fun, in observing the world around him, and, this trip alone became, more interesting, instead of just, watching that clock in the stations, wondering, when the busses or the trains will finally come and take you away!