344th of January (google told me)

I just found out that today my Google homepage looks like this :



isn't it  sweet? For an old and lonely person like me, this is really a sweet surprise, but this so-called comfort of stranger is actually not even from a stranger, it's not from a person, just your own personal data got handled by a big corporation / system, or I should better think about how they obtain my information, and how they will manage it.  I sound so boring, ruined the little heart-felt tenderness offered to me, I admit I got haunted by my work that my brain is full of rules and regulations and no verse and prose allowed.

Today I actually intended to take some pictures during my busy lunch hour, to produce some memories for today, but all I found in my usual wandering path - bleak, withered, grotesque images, not that great for today memories, (or such realism that I don't need, I got too much).

"last year is dead, they seem to say
begin afresh, afresh, afresh."

they look like me, strange, just hang on to yourself.

hello myself

Foals will come to Hong Kong, great, i need that kind of explosive performance, explosive music, for now, lukewarm i am, that's what i feel for a while.  (maybe that is what it's called - aging!!! sigh sigh sigh) So i haven't login here for a while, not much to say in all common social media, no longer upload any photos to flickr or even ig.

of course i want to see sigur ros again, i'm surprised that they seem to like my hometown, if they'll come, that'll be their third time to be here, haha, don't turn into suede.  My hometown will look down to the act which comes here too frequent, humm... my hometown suffers from very low self-esteem and believes that only the obsolete will come here.

I still love suede dearly.  night thought will definitely be my top-three this year.

so i want to go to summer sonic, but i so lack of money, promised my brother's daughter to bring her to japan next week once she finishes the dse, (and actually i want to go to usj again) and then go nippon again in august?

seldom talk to myself here, feel good to do so, just like that of g+, good place for gibbering.

Romance at short notice

Literally back from the dead ("find what you love, and let it kills you").

broken phrases

I went to bed with a headache. The humid sultry summer night. Another sleepless night. My head was so stuffy that my mind was so empty. My mind was so awakened that my heart was so confused. Disturbed by vague plans, fragments of memories, noise in my head, semi-imagination, semi-nightmares. A sick stomach, a sick head, trapped in the darkness, trapped in the heat, trapped in a city.

How are you my friend?

My silence here means I'm pretty busy in work, that I can't daydream in office or write the useless self-indulgent blog.  But I suddenly want to be lazy for a while, so I am here again to say hello to myself.

Last Friday I had a little meeting with VV, Dada and TMC, the ex-colleagues from my first job.  They are now my friends, and actually we were already friends when we were working together as colleagues.  Yes, I always make a clear division between colleagues and friends and it is something about feeling, I can't really tell the criteria of becoming friends.  Sadly after I left my first job, I could hardly make any friend with colleague anymore.  I think it is my problem, like my heart is closed.  Maybe I become more and more a misanthrope and I feel quite comfortable to be the quiet unnoticed one in work, of course so long as my boss remember to pay me every month.

 

Corny photo style, yeah cheers~

About that last Friday meeting, we no longer talked about the favourite pastime, the future travelling plan or the troubles in work.  We now talked of the marriage life, the consideration of having baby or not and the life of a mummy and her child..... all the talks that I could not contribute much, though I listened hard, inserted some useless comments or enquiries and my friends also tolerated my ignorance and tried to treat me as equal as them (like asked me if I would be a mother or not (huh?!) and were careful not to mention the fact that I was that "politically-incorrect but everybody including male and female like talking and laughing about" the vulgarly and criminally typical aged "leftover" female).   All my friends progress with the progress of time, while I still live in the time 10+ years ago.  Strange, I feel quite comfortable about my out-of-time out-of-space. Very unplanned, unproductive, unambitious, unsuccessful.   Clearly this is the one too poisoned by Bukowski.

soliquoy

Overwhelmed by routines and trivial troubles, totally uninspired.  It was strange that I did not make any entry about my (not so) recent trip and also the (not so) recent gigs, for those were the things that I always liked to flaunt write about here. My change is intriguing, maybe I become more mature and modest, or maybe I'm really half-dead that even vanity does not appeal to me.


It was absolutely unintentional to catch the last train, I mean, to catch the last glimpse of the Girls.  I did not expect Girls would call it a day so soon so sudden, though people may say so long as Christopher Owens is still making music, it doesn't matter if there is Girls or not.  But I still wish Chris had stayed in the Girls, for his rare androgynous temperament of fragility and sensitivity, his bestowal of series of flowery memories, it's perfect for Chris to have the alternate name as Girls.  Oh it's all history now, anyway it's just my two pennies worth.

My hometown is as depressing as ever.  Flew from the land celebrating its diamond jubilee to land mourning the June Forth anniversary (and that mournful atmosphere extended to the July 1 anniversary), from the very high to the very low.  I numbed myself in work, in routines and now involuntarily in the trivial troubles.  It's like the totem spin in inception, never stops.


 
london is .... always some nice surprise around the corner, i suppose i'm not yet tired of it (so i'm not yet tired of my life :)   )

tick tick tick...

It is to dedicate to the ones who have difficulty in social interaction, especially for those who are shy and reserved but at the same time with a big me me me ego. That's my excuse for my usual silence and the awful awkwardness in any kind of social gathering with more than three persons.

yes, I'm doodling here and talking nonsense again as I'm waiting for the clock to strike six, no working mood, just waiting for the little holidays (and the lunar new year, that means, there will be many more social gatherings to come, oh my)

i've got a sad song in my sweet heart

some words are better to keep for myself, some thoughts are better to keep inside my head, not that i am afraid that they will be read by anyone else, it's just because i do not want to acknowledge them by myself. don't want to make anything like a shout for attention a cry for help. it's my n time feeling tongue-tied in my own blog, but what is the use of a blog if one cannot say what he/she feels?

at least i will still like to list out my favourite albums of this year:

1. Album - Girls
2. Noble Beast - Andrew Bird
3. Grace/Wastelands - Peter Doherty
4. Live in London - Leonard Cohen
5. Journal for Plague Lovers - Manic Street Preachers
6. Primary Colour - The Horrors
7. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart - The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
8. Further Complications - Jarvis Cocker
9. It's Blitz - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
10. Room 7 1/2 - Dot Allison



"i was feeling so sad and alone
but i found a friend in the song that i'm singing
i was feeling like a nothing inside
then i found it all in the song
and yeah yeah yeah uh-huh
it's coming straight from my heart
and yeah yeah yeah uh-huh
i gotta let it go
and yeah yeah yeah uh-huh

man i felt like i was going nowhere
then i found my way in the song i was singing
man i felt like i could lay down and die
then i found my life in the song
and yeah yeah yeah uh-huh
it's coming straight from my heart
and yeah yeah yeah uh-huh
i gotta let it go
and yeah yeah yeah uh-huh"

darling, the last song of the album, describes the exact feeling how i feel for the album. enjoy the girls while they are still young, sensitive, honest and daring (girls the band or girls in general?) debut is always the best (hope i'm wrong).

Journal for plague person

Constant no-update, it means this garden will soon be (or is already) forgotten by my rare and if-they-have-ever-existed (my dear imaginary) readers, but then at least I may say something frank or really treat it as a diary. That's the schizophrenia of bloggers. So do i want other to read, or not? The button on the screen says, "Publish Post", so I must want others to read (?) A mindset of a mental exhibitionist. A few days ago one of my friends asked about my absence from this blog. She was sort of good friend of mine but I was still scared by her attention. There're some people you don't expect them to read, such as your family, your colleagues or those you know they never understand what you are talking about (but they are still your friends, or even considered as good friends, how queer...). Sometimes you prefer to confess to a stranger to a person you really know. Maybe I don't need to worry cos' most of the time I just talked nonsense here and most of my friends would look blank when it's me who asked if they had read anything here. I always think blogging is something like a mental masturbation, something you have to release or, it just serves to satisfy the blogger himself / herself, because actually the one and only feverish reader of a blog is the blogger himself/herself. To show off the place you have been, the food you have eaten, the people you're with, the feeling you have, to establish the alter ego, be it the usual "princess/prince syndrome", or those "with the same guilt" cultural melancholic narcissus. No, no. Don't be disturbed by my words. I'm cynical. Please still enjoy your own blogging.

Because of my friend's query, I decide to delete hundreds of words, just my usual whining, to avoid the fragility of openness.

still need to whine. Bad luck. what can i say. no escape. don't escape. like the murphy's law. or what carl jung said. why my journal for plague lovers doesn't have the hidden track? limited edition means with limited number of tracks? so i have to spend extra HK$99 to buy the normal version. the poorer you are, the more ghosts you see.

no internet in office, may i squeeze some time

to make an entry here. I say it's a squeeze cos' when i am at home online, i just spend the time on pet society, it's so useless and boring! (but i can't stop the routine of feeding my pet). Sometimes i miss my blog terribly and want to put down something (without knowing what to put down).

Yes, I was looking for a job and then I found a job, and heaven knows … strangely I still survive, the simple trick is just to forsake my worthless dignity and liberty. The main theme of this blog is always my whining about jobs and I have more reasons to whine for the present one, but at this sour time I feel like my right of whining is simply not allowed, when the press keep updating the current unemployment rate, at least I got paid now. Maybe all I can do is to save a bit more (who knows I will still be employed tomorrow). I don't want to sound like too humble and lowly, but that's it.

Not everyone is as humble as me. I recently have a dinner with a few friends in college and they spent the whole evening discussing moving to a bigger flat or buying a bigger car (while I never dream of buying a small flat or car), alternated with if they should take up the hsbc's rights issue. I could not take part in any conversation. They must have attained to the level of "successful" if we can categorize the phase of life like an electronic game. I never have the status anxiety as suggested by de botton. Material gain is also not my (main) concern. I just think someday I may lose all my friends if I keep being the same person while all my friends keep "progressing".

It's like I was kept in a time capsule, with the same thoughts, same attitude and same interests (but sadly not the same look). It explains a lot why I was captivated by the Pains Of Being Pure At Heart. Cynical me first dismissed them by their name, "what, so pretentious!" I was wrong, of course. Sweet jaunty guitar immediately brought me back to the good old twee-pop days, the days of the early mbv, stone roses and the field mice, sixteen clumsy and shy. Years pass, it's a bit embarrassing to still hold on the teenage dream, by euphemism I may call myself evergreen and young at heart. So, turn up the volume, i want to be bombed by the sweet guitar noise.

je sais je sais

We have so much fun in the suicidal way
We were always so clueless together,
We stuck, we laughed and we stuck

I led you up the cobblestone road
I led you to the darkest corner
I led you to be as gruesome and ridiculous as me

Until, you slurred and swerved
and found there's no way back
and said, "thank you" and dropped dead

All removables, all transitory

It's a delayed train, delayed shock, delayed reaction, to live, to die, to escape. It still pains me a lot read the news, the formal declaration. 4Real.

The autumn sky is so calm, wide and high, even the dazzling sunshine becomes more gentle, i am speechless in this autumnal tenderness.

To live happily, we must go hidding

I romanticise absinthe. That must be dated from my teenage years when i was so in love with oscar wilde and found in his biography that wilde ended his desolate years in France by drinking cheap absinthe. What a melancholic and decadent drink. Verlaine became a scum, Van Gogh cut off his ear, all under the influence of green fairy, dangerous but essentially charming (and artistic). Sadly my wish to taste this green elixir have never been quite fulfilled.

It is not easy to find Absinthe in Hong Kong as this is never a place for bohemian. However, it is also not easy to find the green fairy in Europe, the aftermath of its general ban during 20th century. Wormwood, the main ingredient of Absinthe, explains the mysterious effect after consuming it as wormwood was said to have a chemical which produces similar effect of cannabis, causing hallucination, inspiration or waking up one's innermost dream, evil or uplifting, you name it.

My first sip of absinthe took place last year at my beloved rendezvous in pottinger street. The drink was not green in colour, as it had already blended with water and sugar. Two glasses of it I didn't slip under the table but i did slip down the slope in front of the bar. Effect of wormwood or just alcoholic intoxication? (and the girl at the bar had warned me of the high percentage of alcohol - 45%) Of course I'm not saying I was invincible but 45% should not be that formidable challenge, so will it be the effect of ... (but i had already consumed a bottle of red wine and several cocktails beforehand). Even the hangover was peculiar, i didn't feel headache but literally, I could not get off the bed, like i was not here nor there, or i was not myself, did van gogh cut off his ear under this state of mind?



I was not sure if I drank the real thing or not, it is said that there is no real absinthe nowadays. I tried again at agnes b. Formality was larger than anything. Cold water dripped from a crystal water fountain, melting the sugar cube placed on a slotted spoon and diluting the green fairy into an opal cloud. Elegant and pretentious. I was warned of its extra-high alcoholic percentage (something among 60%), but i found its extra-sweet taste more horrendous. I couldn't find any whimsical wake afterwards, though it's fun to undergo the whole set of ritual.



Devil's picnic was an interesting book which the author visited every corner of the world to find the forbidden fruit, which included absinthe. Wish I have his resources, sadly i have not. But what if there was serendipity? My awareness for the green remained sharp though I was in the paradise of hedonists. Loitering around, it's not difficult to find absinthe, in the name of absenta, in those backstreet wine shops of Bacelona. The price was really cheap, I asked the old lady of the shop if they were the real thing, of course resulted in communication breakdown, so no matter of what, i grabbed a bottle. I am waiting for the right moment to lose myself.



The search for the legendary absinthe is still on and on, of course the one which i most wanted is like this:







Tendency to escape

From what? Boredom? Duties? Daily life?

And how?

Physical escape. Useless. I reckon I may escape my boredom, duties and daily life by flying to a foreign land. But what if the place is not foreign anymore? Then inevitably it will turn to another daily life which I want to escape. Or just like a tribal member to live here and there without rooting yourself? Deep down, wherever I go, I will be the same person, with the same traits, thoughts, weaknesses and arrogance, so after all these years, I concluded that in addition to duties, boredom and daily life, what I mostly need to escape from is just myself.

Internal escape. That is the intoxication Baudelaire talked about. On wine, poetry, or virtue. Or some may find it on music, food, drug, sex or religion, whatever makes you forget yourself. aldous huxley's famous quote, been quoted too often, almost becomes a cliche, but still holds the truth, "most men and women lead lives at the worst so painful, at the best monotonous, poor and limited that the urge to escape longing to transcend themselves if only for a few moments, is and has always been one of the principal appetites of the soul".

... humm our soul longs for an escape.

I have much sympathy for those people who have to give up their intoxication by force, not according to one's own will, such as a court order or health problem. We need a few moments of insanity in order to stay sane. That imposed sanity, almost a twist in his sobriety.

Have always known, know that i can't escape, yet can't accept

The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.


shit, i am frightened.

four letters word(s)

Love, hate or fuxk?

No, I just mean those four letters code under the Jung Typology Test. Recently my office has organised a so-called self-improvement training and the first task was to find out what kind of person you really were (then you may know your own weaknesses and find ways to improve yourself these rubbish talk). I never believe you can really change your character or personality. It's a murder of your own soul, if you have to change. Saint or villain is almost inborn. So, villain or saint, which one are you?

Jung Test

I am the villain INFP (no, actually they are meek and kind, these useless traits). I think the analysis is quite accurate, especially it says most of the INFPs have imaginery friends in their childhood. Haha, yes indeed i'm one of those psychos (so don't feel strange if i talk and laugh to myself uncontrolledly). According to my career chart (there are numerous interesting analysis of Jung test on interent), lawyer is one of the most unsuitable jobs for INFP, no wonder i end up like what i am now. decaying.

My world goes crazy sometimes

Colour of loudness, tawdriness, frenzy, violence, extremity and bloodshed.

But there are people just loving it

loudly, frenetically, violently and blindly




Give me a cup of tea and
four thick walls with no TV

office blue

Read a few lines
Daydreams mix with
Moments of siesta
Went to the pantry
then to the restroom
Back to the seat
It's so horrid
that it's still 4:30
Never ever
look at the figures
on the screen's right coner

Too much happiness will only lead to sadness

It's the Chinese wisdom.

After a week of celebration of "getting older but not wiser", I've got physical and virtual feasts and drinks, presents and cakes, greetings and wishes, intimate and rubbish talks, well, this humdrum life looks a bit endurable for all such trivial things. While I reflected on my light-hearted feeling, yes, that chinese idiom works again.

My pc is dead again. It always chose its death in the time when I least have done any back-up. Worse, I even cannot reformat it. It's ridiculous to think that my whole happiness is dependent on this lifeless object but sadly, it's true. My daily consolation is just this 60GB. I am officially devastated. I feel so bad now and I will not put a smiley face for a long time.

suppose my name

I don't know if there is anyone abnormal enough to search his/her own name in google. I know my ex-boss did cos' he was once so excited to declare that he found his name on internet and I rightly pointed out how megalomaniac and abnormal for him to do so. While my accusation is still echoing, I also did such non-sense thing in office now. My reason was (i.e. pretext) it seems indiscreet to go to my blog directly so it's better to go there throught other search engines. The search result is horrid. It's like a summary of my online activities, no matter how remote or irrelevant (like the twitter or yahoo blog that I've registered but never use, and some idioitic comments i've ever made), or how embarrassing like the useless ramblings that overwhelmed this place. I always keep this blog secret to family and collegues (for the whole embarrassing content) but my effort will be in vain if they know my login name. Another discovery is if I have a fan in north america. Yes I know my name is common, the shambles are popular, but to combine the two? ok, what co-incident. what a small world.

feeling pissed

it sucks as usual
but i sometimes forgot
parasite and paralysis
i cant tell the difference
wish could be sham and lame want to throw up i'm turning to be a toad don't want to be but i will




i, either/or:
problem in soul/
too arrogant/

misanthropic