Love is Nothing

　　 
　　Dear Yann：
　　          How are you? How are you?
　　Do you think I am clever? Though I am always crazy.
　　I still love you, love the ongoing rhythm of you, however, you are Yann, you are a stranger.
　　          Me too. I am a stranger to myself.
　　          “They are all mistakes, even from canthus to the end of eyebrow.” Wang Fei once sings.
　　          I love you, Yann. You are my Big Baby, my Dear Teddy, my Sweet Sweetheart.
　　          My skin is always starving, it is an incurable disease.
　　          It has been a long long time, I cannot find the way to get along with you.
　　          Must you leave me someday? Because I always hope you will die.
　　I hope you die alone as I hate you, I hope we both die together as I love you.
　　          Anyway, I cannot adept to the heaviness and complexity of this world.
　　 
　　 
　　Are you happy? My lover.

　　Winter is just like this, no matter how many clothes you wear, the weather is getting colder and colder. The wind blows all the memories away. Little by little, I am forgetting, myself… and your face.
　　I already cannot remember what kind of person you are, what you like, what you hate, I cannot remember anything.

　　However, I still want to know if you are happy……or tired?

　　I am still the old look— a sham, meets people come and go, smiles all day without reason and emotion, provides others some amusements. Being very warm and very gentle. No envy, no expectation, no hate, no despair.
　　Someone told me once, that I had the best personality he had ever appreciated from a girl, I made him happy all the time.
　　However, Am I ? The woman almost closes to the perfection?
　　I know, in the bottom of my heart, still, a girl who is so bigoted sometimes even cranky is sleeping there. “Just want to love someone! Truly love…….is that wrong?”
　　I have no idea whether it is wrong or not. Only thing I know is that – love without reason, love runs into so deep and never changes, is stupid.
　　But, I am smart.
　　Thus we all know, the sleeping girl will never wake up.
　　I think this is just the way to minimize harm.

　　My darling, you are flying, freely, selfishly, ruthlessly flying away from me.
　　And I, am continually, dancing, the dance of sinking.

　　 

　　Other Person Makes the Hell

　　Elfie, eventually, you leave me here alone.

　　The fate of a person is decided by god. From born to death, there are many times we cannot help doing anything. Maybe we can choose death, however, we could never decide the born. We can never forecast whom we shall meet in the next minute. That person we meet is good or bad, genuine or hypocritical.
　　To be treated with loyalty or betrayal, to live in the happiness or purgatory, I could never foretell.

　　Elfie, finally you left me alone.

　　When the cherry blossom all falls, the lotus starts to bloom , looking outside from the window, finding the blue sky is torn to pieces by the enchanting pink, day by day, little by little----how time flies, Summer is coming.

　　I don\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\'t know why, all the incidents happened almost at the same time. Therefore, I always guess, if this interval of time could be eliminated, are we going to be much happier?
　　If the happiness could last long, then people won’t undergo suffering. However, I still wish there is no more separation, no more change.
　　Pity, always, things go contrary to my wish.
　　Elfie slept with Yann, even though it only happened once, I knew if the situation was allowed, they would repeat, again and again.  If their behavior is so-called adultery, the relation between Little Flat and I only can be counted as nothing but sex, which carries intensive passableness and having no alternative but.

　　When the apathetic dawn breaks up the fervent mist of night, loneliness befalls irresistibly. I try to clasp Little Flat, though his body is just like his name, thin and cold, lacks of ardor, I can only clasp him, tighter and tighter. Although I know he does not love me at all, although I know he will never have the idea of spending the rest of life with me, I can only clasp him.

　　   
　　Hopeless. The less you have, the more you try to catch.
　　    
　　It is said the world is an irresistible onrush, fate is irreversible, we can only keep forgetting, keep marching.
　　There is always something and somebody can be never forgotten.
　　Yet, engraving often means a long-term pain.

　　I never could understand why Elfie must have sex with Yann. After all, one of them was my best friend, the other was my lover. Perhaps, in the very inside, I loved both of them.

　　According to the relationship between Little Flat and I, I can guess, flesh and love are the insulators without any affiliation. In fact, everybody is possible to carry a secret motive to embrace others, skin touches skin, fingers grasp fingers, seek a short time joy, one night stand.
　　But why must be Elfie and Yann?

　　In the darkness, I clasp Little Flat. The sleeping gesture of this guy is awkward. Even in his dream he still refuses my approach. He always bows his body, face at me but be away from me as possible as he can. An obvious rejection.
　　I have no choice but sit up, light up a cigarette. I once said to Little Flat, “ Smoking to many people is not because of the cigarette itself, yet they are pursuing the feeling of sucking, it is a born instinct to appease our anxieties.”
　　To despair to the extreme, to suffer to the extreme, in return is actually paralyzed peace.

　　I cannot give up smoking, to be surrounded by warm smoke, just like safely stay in mother’s womb which obstructs all the harm and pain. I am a relatively stupid woman. I insist on asking some meaningless questions. Even though I know it is stupid, I still cannot help myself to stop asking ----do you love me? Have you ever loved me? Again and again, a question that goes through thousands years, to be heard too many times, to be sick of it.

　　The answer from Little Flat of course is no. Unless we are making love, he says it just to satisfy me. However all experienced women know, at that moment, those sacred words spoken out by men are only for the sake of comforting themselves, let themselves not to be seemed as that much as an animal in rut.   
　　What a pity! Even in rut, Little Flat is not devoting enough, he always looks at me banteringly, in that case, I always close my eyes. From long time ago, I learned to lie to myself. That is the only way to make me more comfortable. 

　　For Yann, I am not sure whether he ever loves or not.

　　Usually, from some women’s perspective, men surely cannot have too much emotion, during their whole lives, too many things should be done; however women can, because women seem have nothing to do, just want to badger with men, make them do nothing as well.
　　I keep calling Little Flat, day and night, so often that even annoy myself. I cannot help, I have no choice.

　　There are many things in life come suddenly, no one can predict life, however, life changes in the time.

　　You know, people like me cannot completely live in the reality. I don\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\'t know how to face the world, do not know how to face others and myself. I can stay in the illusion, telling stories, make them extravagantly colourful, but I cannot cook a meal, wash clothes, do well in exams, I make myself like a drowned mouse. I always think about escaping, from others, from myself. I just don’t suit a plain and realistic life.

　　Yet, things went contrary to my wishes, many many things, all went to the contrary side.

　　I am a person feels insecure all the time. All the anxiety, all the madness, comes from the loneliness that stays in the very inside of my heart. You can look at me as a frozen cat sits beside a fireplace in a freezing weather, wants to put the claw out to warm herself, but also is afraid of getting burn.
　　Maybe Yann does love me. He looks so calm and pure when he is sleeping, obstinately grasps my hand, keeps saying love me, again and again. I stare at his sleeping face under the moonlight when all is quiet, smile and tear.

　　I think I do love him. After all, he is the only salvation I’ve ever found in my 20- year-old life.

該作者現(xiàn)在暫無推文