When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
Siren's Song
Friday, January 09, 2004
Current mood: Reflective
Current music: Wo Meng Jian Titanic - A-Mei
I've been told this blog reads like a book. Twice in fact. Journal of A Crazy Girl. =) *smiles sweetly* That would be the title I'll give it. Siren's Song is far too pompous and pretentious. Besides, the contents of this blog is so self-absorbed, it has to be called Journal of A Crazy Girl.
I am crazy and I think weird things. Was at the KTV last night, and I saw this scene in one of Jay Chou's MTVs: A young girl in a pure white dress and shoes blithely skipping away against a backdrop of coal-black walls of a run-down house. It haunted me for a while, and a torrent of thoughts rained on me. Is she Hope? Does the entire scene remind us that ignorance is bliss?
Such airy-fairy rhetoric doesn't bother me all that much. The sight of the happy girl yanked out another girl - lurking in the deepest, darkest shadows within me. Behind this other girl is the setting of a marble palace. This girl is dressed in black. This other girl cries blood tears. Claret tears that are of a dark red that is near black and are thick and voluminous, reeking of evil and anguish and pain. A sparkling red drop of blood clings at the edge of her rose-bud lips. This other girl has a rope too. A rope not to skip with, a rope that twines around her neck, strangling her and lifting her above ground, in a perpetually limp and broken state, like a rag doll mistreated and unwanted. Her nails are long and of a shimmering blue-black hue, like ten black opals against her skin of alabaster white.
I felt a sudden jerk of surprise. I just realized how negative a person I really am. =)
He told me he teared slightly simply by looking at me and smiling to himself, but he knew not why. I bet he too, knows not that more than once my eyes very nearly betrayed me with drops of naughty tears that impiously tried to worm their way outta the corners of my eyes - for all the wrong reasons.
Agonizingly sweet was the song; painfully beautiful was her voice. Her mere presence sent shockwaves across the room. My powers of imagination are somewhat extraordinary. His passages of her are etched into a lil' corner of my heart, and I feel as though I was standing in his shoes, sharing his admiration for her. Her independence, her achievements, her aura. She sings, and she dances. A virtuoso in the performing arts. A lady who knows exactly what she wants. She is his sweet soft spot.
My heart floated around like the magnificent Titanic making its grand maiden journey for a while, as I looked into his golden brown eyes dotted with dark specks. I felt myself loved, and loving in return. I felt happy, contented, and as though I was experiencing all things beautiful in that one instant, when his eyes are locked on mine, and mine on his.
Then like Titanic, my heart sank. Titantic - The song's playing for the sixth time in a row now. =) Kai bu liao kou. The song which accompanied him through his darkest hours when his gaze was in her direction. My own soft bleats of baah-baah sound pitiful to my ears. Is this all an illusion? Will I turn out to be a deluded Cinderella whose glass slippers get smashed into smithereens in the end? Will I be left trampling on shards of broken glass pieces and swallowing my own salty tears? The same naughty tears are ruthlessly banging on doors to be let out. I'm glad he's not here. I can finally cry.
