Tuesday, June 24, 2008

#91 As Requested By Kira

A.k.a. Blake (Quack quack!)

This is a loose translation of the song, which I found online.

****


洋葱 周恒毅

Onion by Aska Yang

If only your gaze would look upon me
If only you could hear the sound of a heartbreak
Silently watching over you, silently waiting for a miracle
Silently letting myself fade like air

Everyone is eating, talking and laughing in the happiness of tonight
The inner most of me, laughing in unison
The onions at the bottom of the plate are just like me, forever the flavouring
Secretly watching you, secretly hiding myself

If you are willing to peel open my heart layer by layer
You will discover, you will be shocked
You are my most suppressed, deepest secret
If you are willing to peel open my heart layer by layer
Your nose will run, your eyes will tear
If only you can hear and envision my devotion

Hearing you talk about you and your many other ‘him’ and the blossoming love
In my hopelessness I pretend to be amused
I’m like an onion; always the supporting actor
How I wish to have with you, a second of our own story

****

Somehow I don't feel like updating in depth yet, so I shall just skim through the memorable events that have passed.

1. Stephen's birthday.

It is as much his birthday as it is a rebirth of my thoughts.

When a person hits rock bottom, the only way to go is up.

Which makes me wonder; what then really is the bottom?


Taken from an email which Hotmail considers as spam.

It was a cold December night in West Orange, New Jersey. Thomas Edison's factory was humming with activity. Work was proceeding on a variety of fronts as the great inventor was trying to turn more of his dreams into practical realities. Edison 's plant, made of concrete and steel, was deemed "fireproof". As you may have already guessed, it wasn't!

On that frigid night in 1914, the sky was lit up by a sensational blaze that had burst through the plant roof. Edison 's 24-year-old son, Charles, made a frenzied search for his famous inventor-father. When he finally found him, he was watching the fire. His white hair was blowing in the wind. His face was illuminated by the leaping flames.

"My heart ached for him," said Charles. "Here he was, 67 years old, and everything he had worked for was going up in flames. When he saw me, he shouted, 'Charles! Where's your mother?' When I told him I didn't know, he said, 'Find her! Bring her here! She'll never see anything like this as long as she lives.' "

Next morning, Mr. Edison looked at the ruins of his factory and said this of his loss: "There's value in disaster. All our mistakes are burned up."

"Thank God, we can start anew."

What a wonderful perspective on things that seem at first to be so disastrous.

A business failure, divorce, personal dream gone sour . . . whether these things destroy an individual depends largely on the attitude he or she takes toward them.

Sort out why it happened, and learn something from the blunders.

Think of different approaches that can be taken...

Start over.

Spam? I don't think so.

2. Sunday's family dinner.

Having come back from an overnight stayover at Jason's house, I was in no condition to go out, but I did.

I have this one very grainy photo that I took at the floating docks of the yacht club where we had our meal.

In it there is this one platform (presumably across the Straits) that is brightly lit.

Not much in the bustle of today but a beacon of hope in the darkness of the night.

I'd like to take another walk in the darkness, if I could see that one light once again.

Windez, sometimes I feel I don't even know you at all.

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