A Tale of Two Cities

如燭光都有罪 將暗黑多幾十年

如傷疤都有靈 未變臉 回憶即使有罪 真相怎麼敢無言 歷史假使有人 定被發現

Stars may fade as darkness fills the air

“我不相信夢是假的，
我不相信死無報應。”

in name of love

僕らだけの名前を呼びあって
僕らだけの喜び　分かち合った
僕らだけの言葉で確かめて
僕らだけの痛みを抱きしめた

この世界のどこか　未来で会えるなら
忘れないでいて　僕のこと　本当のこと

My goodbye lives in me

Thank you for being my companion for so many years.  I know I will see traces of you wherever I go for the years to come.  You parted me but actually you will never be parted, 'cos you are part of me and, at the same time, part of me is parted.

Going backwards

"You've been pissed on
For too long
Your rights abused
Your views refused
They manipulate and threaten
With terror as a weapon
Scare you till you're stupefied
Wear you down until you're on their side" 

The latest DM album reminds me a lot of my little hometown. Three years ago, I was stuck in UK watching the news about crack down in my hometown, everything seemed so threatening, but yet there's a glimpse of hope. Today, we see no hope.

念念不忘 必有迴響

Cloud Atlas

From day one, we knew that it wouldn't be an easy road.  We are facing one of the most authoritarian regimes of the world and we know just too well of its (dark) history, of how it mercilessly silenced its dissidents and crushed every quest for freedom and justice.  Too many people with stockholm syndrome, too many cops with crime of banality.  It's like we are fighting for the impossible.  It's time we have to choose if we want to be an intact tile or broken jade, if we want to be a pig in a cage on antibiotics or fight as a human in dignity (and we may lose and ...)

"Oh to fight is to defend if it's not now
then tell me when would be the time that you would stand up and be a man
For to lose I could accept but to surrender
I just wept and regretted this moment,
oh that I, I was the fool

I don't know where the sun beams end and the star lights begins
it's all a mystery
And I don't know how a man decides what right for his own life,
it's all a mystery"

The Persistence of Memory

"The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting."

12th March

As usual, on this day I would like to say "Happy Birthday" to Peter Doherty.  I think I am still fond of him, though he is less prolific these days in terms of his music or literature, or maybe he is more private now.  He does not publish his every little work through internet like the old days.  He strikes me that he is more like a showman now, though I have no complaint about it.  I still love his performance and would like to attend his every show.

Happy Birthday little chubby.

But today I also got the sad news that Winifred Lai has passed away.  She was one of the most important local cultural figures to me.  I remember I was a loyal reader of her Amoeba Magazine when I was young. She did teach me a thing or two.  This year I am really sensing that my city is collapsing.   The things we're proud of, such as the rule of law, the freedom of expression, was destroyed in a large extent.  and now a member of the elite is gone.  

so today i am feeling ambivalent, blame it on the grey sky.  but i am still grateful for all those angels who have brightened up my tedious life.

Hold on the light

Something we should hold on, to memorize and encounter, the cruel facts of history, to resist the overwhelming force of forgetfulness, hidden in their lies and sedation, our daily routines, numbness and arrogance.

他們在這世界上面不停地奔跑，一不小心就改變了我們
我們在這世界上面不停地奔跑，一不小心就改變了生活
他們在這世界上面不停地奔跑，一不小心就改變了我們
我們在這世界上面不停地奔跑，一不小心就改變了生活
他們在這世界上面不停地奔跑，一不小心就改變了我們
我們在這世界上面不停地奔跑，一不小心就改變了生活
又有誰就這樣的看著你，懷春的少女陷入哀傷
生命曾經閃耀思想的容光，我們不能失去信仰

Those were the good old days

Wai Che Printing Company in Wing Lee Street, Hong Kong

I felt lucky but also sad to attend the very last Word Jamming Workshop in Wai Che Printing Company. Due to the crazy rent market, Wai Che will be closed very soon (yes, we are glad about the so-called revitalization and redevelopment of Sheung Wan that many cool shops, cafes and galleries were opened there but we are unaware that all these moves will wipe the small old business out). Mr. Lee, the owner of the company and a printer for life, was zealous to share his knowledge in typography and moveable lead type printing in that tiny time slot. Of course we could hardly memorize the history, special jargon and skill as introduced by Mr. Lee. This is the cruelty and nonchalance of the passing of time, just as his grand Original Heidelberg Cylinder, lying idle and rusty in the corner of the shop. The good old days are gone.



 the grand printer


 
Mr. Lee doing his labour of love



they are space and lines




words in random, beautiful pattern


... hmm, mr. lee disapproved someone's work.

Forever

 Ai Weiwei - Forever Bicycles @ Taipei Fine Arts Museum


We are moving,
or just an illusion?
We are one,
or every single different one?

We once rid on the street of Beijing carrying
hopes and dreams,
fears and despairs.

Crushed.

but we're named forever,
 we're sometimes hanged in galleries
and always in memories.

How the world keeps going nowhere

Lost Time / The Sound of the Streets

My mp3 player just popped out The Sound of the Streets when I was reading the last page of In Search of Lost Time. How coincident. No, of course this song cannot summarise the whole epic, but I really thought of this song in some paragraphs, such as when the narrator lay in his bed and listened to the street noise outside his window.

"Inside she feels like winter
For the child that died within her
She walks the streets to pass the time

Sadie, Sadie hear the sound of the streets
Insane as anything"

"For the child that died within her" I don't think Brett meant it literally, not that Sadie had a miscarriage or abortion. I think he meant the lost time as a child that she couldn't find it again. Strange juxtaposition for this song and the last page of Time Regained.

Sometimes we can find the lost time again, if we drown deep enough in our sea of memory, but sometimes we just can't. The time had lost, the persons, the things, the passions had died. And remember the words from our dear Mr. Barat? Something like for a failed relationship, a part of yourself was died because all the things you had said, all the secret between the two lovers was lost forever. Actually I was quite surprised that he could utter something so Proust.

It took me quite some time to finish the whole series, I even doubted that if I could finish it before the end of my life, and thought if it would be too time-consuming if I had to re-read it again in my next life (if I could have one). These were my idle thoughts of course and now, even though I eventually finished it, I really want to re-read it again immediately. There were moments that I felt so heavy or intense that I had to close the book (excuse for the slowness?). I remember Proust once said that he did not expect praise or censure for his book, he just wanted his readers to feel "oh this is really like it" (ok, it's my interpretation), and I think he succeeded. I was always amazed by his clairvoyance.

Of course my life is not as epical as Proust's (or that of the narrator). During my time from reading Vol.1 to Vol.6, I had my joy and sufferings, I lost someone dear to me (but I did not know until I lost him). I will try to "recherché" those joyous moments, bury and banish the sufferings. I may find the lost person again in my memory, but may lose him again by my indifference and forgetfulness (and we say time is a healer).

All the songs died in the early summer

他整夜的坐在廣場裏面
等待著他的救星出現
他也許就站在你的面前
註視著你成長的一切
這是一個沒有希望的廣場
這是一個沒有希望的廣場
這是一個沒有希望的廣場
這是一個沒有希望的廣場
廣場上曾經奔跑的青年
如今已經失去了他們的信念
而你整夜的坐在廣場裏面
等待黑夜夜吞噬你的一切
這是一個沒有希望的廣場
這是一個沒有希望的廣場
這是一個沒有希望的廣場
這是一個沒有希望的廣場


- Carsick Cars, 廣場

one day goodbye will be farewell

sitting on the ferry, my ipod popped up this song. saddness.

now i know what the colour of sallowness is. i saw how life oozed out of you. sympathy or indiffence is both evil. there is no apt attitude. don't want to recall how you suffered. don't want to think how you spent your humble life.

until gravity feels sorry for you, and lets you go.

And you are free now. Flies to the light. Peace be with you.

I'm thinking about history

This is where i lived when i was a child. This is where when i dreamt about going home, i would go back there, and get lost. It is full of trees, songs of birds, sound of waterfall. Blue skies and daisy, daydreaming in classroom, hi-fi's volume competition, this is what my childhood like, of course also with nervousness and anxiety. My childhood's home will be demolished soon at the end of this year, leave in silence.






cherry house, so uk estate, my childhood's home

Decades

Whenever i listened to this song, i would think about that incident. That was a sad day, but they were the most beautiful people i have ever seen.

Here are the young men, a weight on their shoulders
Here are the young men, well where have they been?
We knocked on doors of Hell's darker chambers
Pushed to the limits, we dragged ourselves in
Watched from the wings as the scenes were replaying
We saw ourselves now as we never had seen
Portrayal of the traumas and degeneration
The sorrows we suffered and never were free

Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?

Weary inside, now our heart's lost forever
Can't replace the fear or the thrill of the chase
These rituals showed up the door for our wanderings
Opened and shut, then slammed in our face

Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?
Where have they been?

oh roses are so delicate, maybe we can just sing a song

It's always there
our faithful companion
hovering above
from day 1 to day 0
fragmented but continuous
'round the next corner
or millions miles away
doesn't matter
cos it will never
fail to keep its promise


so it's the promise to the rosy atlantis or an ecstatic underworld or a bleak world of cold and dark? i don't know. the other side always remains an uncertainty. ephemeral and uncertainty, it makes all the sense here.

She was one of those few good ladies of my ex-office, she was a christian, so she must be more certain of her way, returns home, unafraid and liberated.

Review of being a crap tour guide

In addition to all the passion and frustration, imagination and association, elation and depression, what does music bring to you? An empty purse? Stacks of cds and vinyls which your matchbox home is no longer able to contain? All is true to me. By the way, it gives me a bunch of friends who I would have never known but for my love of particular music/band/sound. I met some of them through internet or gigs, some still keep in touch, some are lost. I catagoise them according to the name of band like "my suede friends", "my manics friends", "my libertines friends" and so on. R and A are my suede friends from the Netherlands. I came to know them 10+ years ago (gosh, disclose my age) through the website of R (and A is his girlfriend). Of course that was the heyday of suede. My first visit to R & A in amsterdam was a disaster cos' I could hardly communicate under the influence of whatsoever. Those were the days. We are somewhat sober, older (sadly) and wiser (hopefully). R & A are now professionals flying around to attend conference (shit, I'm still fucking around) and that's why I met them again in Hong Kong. This was my turn to be their tour guide and this was also the time that I realise how I scarcely know this place. I even did not know how to go to the Peak Tram terminal! I have so much to learn from Alain de Botton - one should start his travel in his own bedroom. I started my travel in my hometown. It's interesting to find out how mountainous Hong Kong is (as exclaimed by my lowland friends). Hey, there is a waterfall at the Peak (I've never paid any attention to it):



Seeing everything as if I've never seen it before, making preparation, going through expectation and anticipation. Life should be much easier and happier if you hynotise yourself as a traveller everyday. Travelling is rather a state of mind. I know the key to this fun, it's a pity that I can't have this light-hearted feeling right now.