I messed my head

The more that you follow me
The more I get lost
You think that you know me
You're pissing me off
You said that you love me
why don't you fuck off?
You think that you own me
You're ripping me off

Enivrez-Vous

That is one of my most favourite poems. I feel so ecstatic to hear it recited by you.

Il faut être toujours ivre.
Tout est là:
c'est l'unique question.
Pour ne pas sentir
l'horrible fardeau du Temps
qui brise vos épaules
et vous penche vers la terre,
il faut vous enivrer sans trêve.
Mais de quoi?
De vin, de poésie, ou de vertu, à votre guise.
Mais enivrez-vous.
Et si quelquefois,
sur les marches d'un palais,
sur l'herbe verte d'un fossé,
dans la solitude morne de votre chambre,
vous vous réveillez,
l'ivresse déjà diminuée ou disparue,
demandez au vent,
à la vague,
à l'étoile,
à l'oiseau,
à l'horloge,
à tout ce qui fuit,
à tout ce qui gémit,
à tout ce qui roule,
à tout ce qui chante,
à tout ce qui parle,
demandez quelle heure il est;
et le vent,
la vague,
l'étoile,
l'oiseau,
l'horloge,
vous répondront:
"Il est l'heure de s'enivrer!
Pour n'être pas les esclaves martyrisés du Temps,
enivrez-vous;
enivrez-vous sans cesse!
De vin, de poésie ou de vertu, à votre guise."

-- Charles Baudelaire

There are many translated version. Not many of them are satisfying. I like the below version (with some of my amendments):

Always be drunk.
That's it:
That the only question!
In order not to feel
Time's horrid burden
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
Get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On wine, poetry, virtue, as you like.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
"Time to get drunk!
Don't be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!
On wine, virtue, poetry, as you like.

The Lust of the Libertine

The Lust of the Libertine
Is really quite lame.



Lustful, promiscuous and intoxicated, that is all I suppose what a libertine is. Poetic, talented and bohemian, the A Must quality for a libertine. John Wilmot, the Earl of Rochester, is the second-rate libertine in the film. Lustful, promiscuous and intoxicated he was, I wouldn't blame him for that. To be a libertine, we all expect he/she a bit irresponsible and hedonistic, but that's because he/she yearns for the lust for life (mind you, i mean the lust for life, not the lust of life), to explore the deepest sensation, experience every passion - to get the most feeling of your life. The film did not quite manage to portray the Earl as the libertine in my mind. (P.S. of course this is not the fault of Mr Depp, he is always brilliant and charming)

Going zen

Insen.

Absolutely beautiful. It was a dialogue between electronica and piano. Stealing the words of the Programme, it was an articulation of opposites - digital against acoustic. It was strange that the cold, digital electronica of alva noto blended so well with the elegant piano of Sakamoto, sort of chemical harmony. Yes, I emphasise the word "chemical". With the visual arrangement, this was a transcendent moment to a shimmering horizon. I was wandering between a peaceful dream and the feeling of dazed and confused. Relaxed with moments of suffocation. One more evidence of the fact that, music is drug.


Mr Ryuichi Sakamoto is still very charming!!

賣笑大會

一年一度的賣笑大會又 - 開show!　對吾等年老版本隱蔽青年，社交應酬實在是一大苦差，回想去年初到貴境，對此等差事感到超及helpless, 今年本人也不見得有什麼改變／善，只希望擁有隱者隱身法。在大堂做迎賓還算不錯，起碼清楚知道自己要做什麼（帶嘉賓領取名牌）及可以和其他同事一起。之後的cocktail及dinner時間才是真正難頂記所在，要自己一個surrounded by groups of strangers,不要期望我會參與無聊不停地派name card的遊戲。因撞正大台台慶採排，本不期待有什麼好睇頭，哈有醫神又不錯，一向喜愛神神化化的他。對歌神之子本沒有什麼期望，但因當時太過沉悶，他（懶）rock的歌又幾好，更可能同坐的上等人掩耳狀甚痛苦，更令本人覺得愉快，希望歌神子整多幾吓distortion,哈哈。

不知不覺又悶完，又一年過去，不知未來我還會寫多少篇類似怨言文，我要催眠自己，I'm in it for the money, sucking corporate rock (but the sad fact is, the money is so little)

Charlie is my friend

有無人試過因被人狂摔至死?
又或因極度沉悶而至死?

Of course that person probably is me. Whinge and wince, the thing I told myself not to do, that's the privilege of youth.

Stumbled around other blogs, I found this out:



Hey, I don't have the real thing, can I have the fake?