naturaleza muerta

The sun hasn't come up but Ana and Miguel are already burning with love
She is lying on him, man and woman, they rumple the bedsheets
The sea, crazy about Ana, prefers not to watch
Jealousy cannot forgive
The water nor the seaweed nor the salt

At dawn, Miguel is already in his bark
"Give me a kiss, my love, and wait for me at the beach"
And the sea murmurs in its own language: "Damned fisherman!"
"Say goodbye to her - I will not share her heart"

And weeping, and weeping, and weeping for him
And waiting, and waiting, and waiting, standing
In the breeze until Miguel returns

In the village they say the white rock is Ana
Covered with salt and coral, waiting at the beach
Wait no more, girl of stone, Miguel will not return
The sea has him now
Not wanting to release him to a woman

And weeping, and weeping, and weeping for him
And waiting, and waiting, and waiting, standing
In the breeze until Miguel returns

And there are people who are certain
That when there is tempest
The waves provoke her
Miguel's battle to death with the sea

And weeping, and weeping, and weeping for him
And waiting, and waiting, and waiting, standing
And weeping, and weeping over the sea...

~~ Naturaleza Muerta ~~ Mecano ~~

oh the jealous sea...
how can you say you love her when you took away the person she loved the most?

lightness & weight

If every second of our lives recurs an infinite number of times, we are nailed to eternity as Jesus Christ was nailed to the cross. It is a terrifying prospect. In the world of eternal return the weight of unbearable responsibility lies heavy on every move we make. That is why Nietzche called the idea of eternal return the heaviest of burdens.

If eternal return is the heaviest of burdens, then our lives can stand out against it in all their splendid lightness.

But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid?

The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body. The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfilment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become.

Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half-real, his movements as free as they are insignificant.

What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?


~ Forgive me Kundera, for this is one story I wish not to finish reading because I don't want it to end.

oh why

Why, my dear friend, must you change?

You think you are ugly,

You think you are fat,

You think you are just not good enough.

But you were so beautiful,

And you are NOT fat,

And you will always be wonderful in His eyes.

Yet you were afraid.

Afraid that he didn’t love you anymore,

Afraid that he got bored of you,

Afraid that he didn’t want you anymore.

So you changed.

You dolled yourself up,

You went to the gym every day,

You did things that you never ever thought you would do.

I miss the old you.

The old and beautiful you with those little bits of imperfection,

You who once loved yourself, just the way you were.

The you that he fell in love with.

心

心
自出生是属于自己。

心 是自私的
就算送给了别人，
自己也想夺取他人的心。
心占心， 是否是真爱？

心 是宽容的
若真正爱着那个人，
一定不会希望得到什么回报。
但人是否那么大方？

心会变
一变就不能再回头。

心不变
人不离人，心不离心。
就算天涯海角，永远的。

心会痛
而伤你心的人总是那让你开心的人。
因为打开的心，才能受到伤害。
值得吗？

心 是脆弱的
但当你愿意把你的心交给他，
你就要相信他。

心连心，克服万难。

等你的心。

priceless

Dr Francis Schaeffer, a great Christian scholar, decided to take a weekend off to visit Paris with a couple of his students. One night, as they strolled the streets of Paris, they saw a prostitute on a street corner. To the students’ horror, they watched their mentor walk right up to the woman. He said, “How much do you charge?”

“Fifty dollars.”

He eyed her up and down and said, “Nah, that’s too little.”

“Oh yeah, for Americans, it’s one hundred and fifty dollars.”

He stepped back again, “That’s still too low.”

She quickly said, “Uhh, oh yeah, the weekend rate for Americans is five hundred dollars.”

“No, that’s still too cheap.”

By this time she was a little irritated. She said, “What am I worth to you?”

He responded, “Lady, I couldn’t possibly pay you what you are worth, but let me tell you about somebody who already has.”

The two students watched as their mentor – right there and then – knelt with her on the sidewalk and led her in a prayer to commit her life to Christ.

~ Rome, Sweet Home ~ Scott & Kimberly Hahn

街头一隅

雨是自私的：想淋就淋，想停就停，根本不考虑别人的感受。。。

我在纽约住了一季， 为的是写一则报道给报刊。那天正雷雨交加，雨像断了线的珠子纷纷落下。我踏着沉重的脚步，赶紧从我住宅附近的商店走回家。走了一街又一街，看了街边的乞丐一个又一个，心里满怀谢意。感谢我不必为生活而做出这种毫无出息的事。他们到底为何要干如此对不起自己的活，为何要如此令人藐视自己？

直到我看到了乞丐中的一个男人。他年纪大约三十多岁。我猜想，少年时期必定虎背熊腰，身材魁伟，走起路来风度翩翩，英俊潇洒。

“小姐，请问你想擦鞋吗？”

现实却远离从前。现在的他已经疲惫不堪，眼睛失去了明亮，失去了希望。他静静地坐在街边的一隅，等啊等，等到一个人经过才开口问。他目不转睛地看着我，眼睛充满着说不完的话，吃不完的苦。那双眼睛，陪着主人历经沧桑，受了一生的苦处。他全身湿透了。

“好啊。”

我连忙把右脚放在他面前的小凳子，准备让他擦我的皮靴。顿时，我才发现，他其实跟其他擦皮鞋的小子截然不同。他伸出了右脚，把脚上的布放了一些蜡，然后把布的一边夹在口里。我楞住了。原来，他双手单脚残废，只能靠右脚活动。我看着他不停地擦啊擦，直到他嘴边的皮发红，直到我的皮靴干净无瑕，他才放心停止。

“谢谢你，两块。”

我赶忙地从皮包里拿出两张印着美国第一任总统华盛顿的钞票，打算交给他。霍然，我脑筋急转，再拿出另一张钞票，才自豪地把钱付给了他。

“对不起小姐，我只收两块钱。”

我又楞住了。天底下哪有这种人有钱也不拿？我想开口，不料，街上又来了一个人。

“先生，请问你想擦鞋吗？”

我奇怪地看着他。“难道你不想收我的钱吗？”

“对不起小姐，我只收两块钱。不然，就当是我送你的见面礼。”

我目瞪口呆地把两块钱放在他的身边，就转身走了。

“谢谢你小姐，请再次光临。”

一个星期后，我回返了新加坡。那天又下了一场大雨。我想起了上个星期遇见的擦鞋仔。看着故乡的街边，只有饭厅和商店，连一个坐在一隅的人影也没有。我再次感谢我的故乡从不出现乞丐的现象。我们多幸福，三餐不缺。

陡然，街边的夜总会门外出现了两名身穿西装打领带的有为男子。他们看起来却摇摇欲坠，眼看只需一推就会跌倒。

“我还想喝啊！”

“今天的太阳好晒喔！”

他们醉醺醺地跑到街边的一隅，忍不住把身体里全部的酒吐出来。

“哇！好舒服啊！来，我们再喝一杯！”

街边的一隅，任何人都能利用。问题是，怎么好好利用。有谁不要钱，不想舒舒服服地享受天伦之乐。沦落街头并不是光荣的事。但为了维持生活，有人毫无选择。眼看街边那两个窝囊废，我不禁一颤。那拼命赚钱生活的擦鞋仔是多么高尚啊！

街头的那一隅，是属于他的。