Flustered

You broke me!…查看來源圖片like this???  Sketch found online…

From a blog in Chinese I’m a subscriber to, translated, by me…

On the Green Pastures

I’d, Lost My Self

During the Long & Winded Season of Rain

I’d, Allowed Myself Go

On a Night, Populated, by No Other

查看來源圖片hurt, doesn’t it???  Sketch found online…

Thought I Could, Forget………

But I’d Become, Red-Eyed

the Moment I’d, Met You

You’d, Walked Right Through Me

I Know I Should, Give Up

But, I Stood Still

in the Crossing

Staring, at Your Backside

And so, this, is how someone TORTURES oneself, the person your in love with no longer loves you, but you can’t, quite let him go yet, and, there’s, nothing you can do, but to just, wait, and cry, as hard and as frequently as you may need to, until one day, that person, no longer roused up any sort of an inkling of an emotion from you again, then, you’d, successfully, gotten over the person!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flustered

From a blog in Chinese I’m a subscriber to, translated, by me…

On the Green Pastures

I’d, Lost My Self

During the Long & Winded Season of Rain

I’d, Allowed Myself Go

On a Night, Populated, by No Other

Thought I Could, Forget………

But I’d Become, Red-Eyed

the Moment I’d, Met You

You’d, Walked Right Through Me

I Know I Should, Give Up

But, I Stood Still

in the Crossing

Staring, at Your Backside

And so, this, is how someone TORTURES oneself, the person your in love with no longer loves you, but you can’t, quite let him go yet, and, there’s, nothing you can do, but to just, wait, and cry, as hard and as frequently as you may need to, until one day, that person, no longer roused up any sort of an inkling of an emotion from you again, then, you’d, successfully, gotten over the person!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Let Me Take Your Pictures for You

查看來源圖片one taken, like this???  Photo found online…

Translated…

“Do you need me to take a photo of you?”, I’d asked my fellow travelers a lot. After I’d gone to war at work on the weekdays, I’d, enjoyed my single trip, packing in my cell phone, my camera, and my tripod, then, I’m, off.

I’d not liked the selfie rod, with the limited angles, but, using the tripod, it’d, given me a wider view; finding that location I want to stand at, put something there, set up the time, run to that spot and pose, click, then photo taken! And, I was even able to, take shots of me, leaping up in the air too, the only photo I couldn’t take of me alone, was the kind that is, draped in the mysteriousness, and I’d, needed someone to help me with these.

Looking at the cameras taking the selfies, just looking over at the display, then I’d know if I needed to reshoot, and sometimes, as passersby saw how I’m having so much fun, taking selfies, they’d even hollered aloud, “1, 2, 3”, or, “are the melons sweet”, and, made me crack up, but, I was able to, get that youthfulness of my self, looking so happy too.

And, as I’d wanted that mysteriousness in the shots, I’d, asked the passersby to help me focus my lens, and, as I’d found various people to do it, I would have breathtakingly beautiful photos too!

A lot of people are like me, enjoy traveling alone, but most would use the selfie rods, some people saw I was, fully equipped with everything I need, having a grand time, taking my own selfie, they’d come and inquired, “Can I be in it too?”, I’d be more than happy to oblige, one horizontally, one, vertically, one close up, one, in the distance, and if I’m not going anywhere in a short time, I’d, get the pictures to perfection for my “clients”.

And so, as I’d seen those trekkers, walking around with the selfie rods, I’d always gone up and asked them, “Do you need me to take a shot of you?”, seeing how radiantly the individuals smiled on, I’d feel, very blessed.

And so, this, is how although we can do things on our own, we would, prefer someone else’s help, because we are a social animal, and, thrive on social interactions, and, even IF we are able to do things by ourselves, on our own, we wouldn’t mind, having someone else to help us out, would we? Nope!

Public Telephone

Reading too much into it here! Translated…

There was a public phone by the outside of the bookstore, hung on the walls, like a punctuation mark, and nobody ever comes to use it. In this era where everybody has a cell phone in hand, who will be so nostalgic, and used the public phones to call someone up? Or maybe, it’s for the foreign nurses’ aides pushing the elderly out for a stroll? Or, the younger generation of men and women who call each other up in the middle of the nights?

Nope, none, perhaps? The migrant workers, the members of the younger generation, they ALL have cell phones now.

There were two recycle clothing boxes by the old phone, where everybody would drop their used items in. Because as I moved in, the afternoons were leisurely for me, and I’d often, stared at that public phone, which nobody ever uses, and felt sympathy toward it. There would be passersby outside, and would look at me with curiosity, and I’d wondered, if they feel the pities for me, like I feel the pities for the public phone? Was the secondhand book store too retro, and it’s, right next to the library.

Perhaps, I’d, over interpreted it, the bookstores aren’t as sorrowful as the public phone, and I’d liked to keep on believing optimistically, that this, was the life I’d wanted, and I’d still needed to, set things up in it.

Looking at the public phone, born, in the era of Internet and cell phone, it’s hard for you to imagine, how much emotion had, passed through them. Even Superman changed into his cape inside a phone booth, before he’d, flown up to the skies to save lives.

On the more ordinary occasions, during my years as a student, I’d pretended to go out to buy things, to take out the trash, to use the public telephones to call up my lover, because I’d not wanted my family to spy on me for it. And, the even more nostalgic scene, at the army bases, every time there’s break, the group of men, lined up by the phone, to talk to the ones their hearts belonged to. The phone started disconnecting after three short minutes, no more money left, and, even if there are so many things left unsaid, what’s left, was to say “goodbye”. And, heaven only knows, how difficult the goodbyes really are.

In the era of the public telephones, the nostalgia wasn’t only just elongated, it can also, be measured too.

And now, everything’s happening too fast, too instantly, nobody would write a song for a public telephone, like Joan Baez, because she’d received a call from Bob Dylan, and fallen into that older time, recalling the cufflinks she’d bought for him once, that prodigal son who’d, drifted into her arms once, the loves in the past became forever like the diamonds.

something that looked like this…photo from online…heading into EXTINCTION here…

Or like in the movies, where Andy Lau’s character in the movie, although he’d never imagined the female lead calling him up, but every time he’d passed by a phone booth, he’d stopped for a bit.

And now, probably nobody holds that imagination, expectancy, loss or ecstasy toward the public telephones anymore. Except for me, because there it stood, night AND day, outside of my shop.

One day, I’d finally stood by the public phones, and recalled how a friend I’d missed very much, but had lost in touch because of a misunderstanding, and I’d felt, just like this public phone that’s waiting for the call, but never gets it.

Suddenly, the woman from the homeowner association that lived on the second floor wanted to head up, she’d stared at me who’d become, dumbfounded by the public phone. And so I’d asked her, does anybody use this phone? She said, sure, a lot of people, in fact, Chungwha Telecommunications just came by to replace the machines. Look, it was originally green, and now, it’s blue, isn’t it?

But I’d thought for a long while, and still can’t come up with who uses the public telephones now.

And finally, it’d, dawned on me, in this huge housing complex, perhaps, those who are out forgot their keys and cell phone, and they’d called up their families or the locksmiths. The public telephones are for the sakes of emergencies only, there’s NOT that many emotions attached to them as I thought.

And so, you’re, probably right, there’s NOT that many sentiments attached to the public telephones, and you’d, read too much into it, but that is how we get our inspirations in our day to day living, sometimes, the smallest, barely noticeable things, are what rouses up that strong feeling inside…

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

Loss

Certain of the Time

You

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.

 

 

 

 

Mr. Fried Shrimp Seals on Hide-and-Seek

Stepping out of one’s own comfort zones, you might discover something about yourselves, translated…

From when I was younger, I’d loved playing hide-and-seek, I’d especially enjoyed hiding in that spot but not get found by those who’d passed me by, with that mixture of sense of achievement of not being caught, and with the sense of lost, of not being found. The hiding place for me was, the weirder, the better.

White is my protective color, and so, I’d hidden in cream and butter the most, but because I got so good at hiding, every time I’d played the games, I’d needed to, wait a very long time to get found, and so, I’d stopped, hiding out in the pile of butter.

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

Recently, because I wore my knitted orange striped socks, I was mistaken for fried shrimp, and started getting out of the comfort zone of white, and attempted to mask myself as a burger with fried shrimp.

At first, that was quite exciting, after all, it was, a semi-open hiding space, and it’d worked out quite well too, half of the people just thought that I was drizzled in white sauce, which allowed me a better angle, to observe everybody’s expressions, so very interesting.

I blame myself for getting comfortable, hiding in white from before.

This is on the importance of stepping out of our comfort zones, yeah, it would feel a bit dangerous, sure, but, if we don’t venture out of those zones of comfort we are staying in, how the HECK can we know what sort of wonderful things await us out there?

 

 

 

 

The Cobbler, Wen

A dying industry, and he is, the LAST of that dying breed! Translated…

“The sign maker wrote it wrong, I’d told him that it was ‘Wen’s shop’, but he’d written it into ‘Wen Ho’, but it didn’t matter.”, he’d thought a bit, then, told, “There was a banner that’s posted by the sidewalks, but every time the technical high school students passed it, they’d hollered out, ‘Wen Ho’, ‘Wen Ho’, so I’d, put it up.” I’d told the cobbler, that Wen Ho is great, felt very Hong Kong style, it’d, made me remembered.

sketch from the papers online…今日登場/阮光民

He’d mentioned how people often mistaken that the cobblers are a profession where the skills were passed down, actually, those who’d fixed up the shoes, were the shoemakers themselves, if you don’t know how to make shoes, how can you fix them? In the early fifties, when he was only thirteen years old, he’d started apprenticing, normally, it takes three years, but, for most, they would take another four more months, to “make up”. Because in the process of apprenticing, there are still days off, and so, as they’d become the professional cobblers, they’d needed to make up for the time that’s lost, and because they already had the skills, so they were called, “fixers”

“In the past, we’d worked a day, and made the same as a month’s salary compared to the factory workers.” He said that don’t mind that he’d talked about the older times, because it’s no big deal, making the shoes, fixing up the shoes became more stable compared to shoemaking, the shoemakers only work for the summer and winter seasons, from before, they get to work for four months out of the year, and now, there’s only two months, so he’d started fixing up the shoes.

He’d used “going down to”, I’m sure, that being old as he, he really was like he said, living in the clouds now.

And so, this, is a dying industry, because now, when your shoes get worn out, you’d normally just, throw them away, and buy yourselves new ones, and, this puts the cobblers out of business, and, this man is the LAST of the dying breed, but he still works, because there’s still a big enough market for the services he’s providing right now.

Saved Your Lies, for a Worse Day…

Still not in my nature, to THROW anything away, fearing, that I may one day, need what I have no use for right now…

So, I’d, saved your lies, for a worse day, but, I’m having better days now, and so, your lies stopped, making their treks across my mind. Saved your lies, for a worse day, I shouldn’t have, I know, because on my worse days, I’d be desperate, for that cheer-me-up, and your lies, just don’t, do the “trick” at all, but, I’d, saved them, for a worse day.

I suppose, it’s how I want to, remind myself, how your lies are, FAR worse than the worse days that I’d currently be, experiencing? Like measuring down, and feeling good ‘bout myself, maybe?

Saved your lies, for a worse day, until, all I got, were your lies, manifesting, into my life, and, every day gets worse than the ones that came previously. This won’t do!

So, I’d, stopped saving your lies, for ANY day, besides, been living with your lies, for too long, it’s time, I’d, cleared them all away, and, the moment I got rid of that latest and last lie of yours, I see the sun, shining on my face…

I will NEVER be, saving your lies again, learned THAT lesson, the HARD way too, don’t you know???