[诗词]磨

墙上 地上 的
石灰 洋灰
谁记得 刚抹上时的潮湿
风干后的粗糙 呢

磨平 需要多久
用手 用脚 还是
待岁月 鬼祟地磋磨
（不知不觉地）

哪怕 我不知道
那墙 那地 不再像砂纸
般刺人 那般干涩
学会了圆滑

（六年 我问 足够吗？
圆滑地 待人处世）

[梦呓] Split?

She was told that she is cute, mild, funny, humorous, outgoing, outspoken, confident and smart. Those aren't really lies. But she isn't like that. Not completely.

Through her words not spoken by mouth, through her works which can only be seen with eyes, apart from the outer shell - the inner self of her, is moderately different. Presumably it might remind someone about Newton's Third Law of Motion -

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

But for her case -

For every personality, there is an equal and opposite personality.

It doesn't sound very accurate though. But the concept is rather similar.

She is cute and mild, but she has shown her unpleasant and rebellious ways before.
She is humorous and fun to be with, but she was the one who started the conflicts due to her grate and discordancy.
She is outgoing, but most people didn't know that she would like to be drowned in her own thoughts and her own oasis. Alone.
She is outspoken, although she looks shy, timid and quiet.
She is confident - in most things you'd say? I'd say she is just a coward. She is afraid that people disagree with her, when people distrust her, when people doubt her. And she fears to encounter failures, she fears when everything happens opposing her expectations. Hiding all these, she is confident, to all of you.
She is smart - Well, depends. Whether you will say what she did was stupid or brilliant.

She likes bloody scenes. It's thrilling. Why would a gentle girl like her like bloody and violent scenes?! You'd asked again. (She would say, why wouldn't?)
She likes dolls. Living Dead Dolls. And Chucky (from Child's Play), I guess. But Chucky's dirty. She likes the stitches and sewn mouths or eyes of the dolls too. I wonder if she'll like the big real dolls - corpses, if they were dressed up and sewn that way.

"Split personality?" You'd asked. But it doesn't sound like she has personality disorder, right? Since I am telling you this in such a matter-of-fact tone. Anyway, split personality is different from schizophrenia.

'The popular myth that "split personality" is part of schizophrenia may have arisen because the word "schizophrenia" comes from Greek words meaning "split mind". But the "split" is not referring to "split personality", but rather to the fact that the person is "split from reality".'

(Quoted from Schizophrenia & Split Personality)

Back. I'm not saying that she has a split personality or she is schizophrenic. Hmm...well, she might be. I don't really know her. I was only told that she's like this.

Yeah, I was told.
I was also told that I'm having schizophrenia too. *Giggles* Yeah that's right. Even you won't believe it when you are told that you're suffering from mental disorder, wouldn't you?

[散文]装在袋子里头的回忆

治安不好，爸妈以前就常嘱咐我们不要带背包上街，免得给别人抢了，自己又受伤，只要把钱包钥匙等东西放进口袋就好了，贴身又安全。袋子如今只为了方便而存在，只为了新潮而多样化。

忆起儿时，我的口袋何止于此呢。衣袋、裤袋、裙袋，只要是有袋子的衣服就是我的最爱。

人之初，性本恶。 年纪虽小，但我当年的占有欲已很强了。还记得当时那些“压胶擦”的玩意儿吗？把指尖压在胶擦的一端，大力一按，胶擦就会翻筋斗地前进。只要其中一方的胶擦 压在对方的胶擦上，那么这就算赢了。对方的胶擦归赢家所有。那时只能盯着家境好的同学带着一打打的新胶擦来玩。我不敢玩，因为我就只有那么一小块的寒酸胶 擦。视线往往停留在同学的蒙面超人胶擦上，久久无法移开。

“性本恶”的我，就这么巧的，只有我一个看到有块超人胶擦从桌子边缘滚到了地上去，停在我的脚边。谁不拾起来的就是白痴，我那时不晓得有没有如此想过呢。我快速地用眼睛确认过没人发现我后，俯身把它拾起来放入口袋里。第一次我偷了东西。当时满头满手的冷汗与挣扎，如今依稀记得。袋子里装着我单纯的勇气与决心。我不记得那胶擦后来怎么样了。那位同学到现在还没发现自己遗失的胶擦吗？

小孩子总是与伤风咳嗽这一类风寒离不了关系。如果纸巾是云吞皮，那么我的袋子就是装热云吞的篮子了。老师说不能乱丢垃圾，所以找不着垃圾桶时，也顾不得脏了，就把沾了温热鼻涕的云吞皮往袋子里塞。原来这个就叫负责任，自己的事情自己解决，硬着头皮也要负责任。

袋子里总是像小叮当的百宝袋般珍贵。收到什么大人请吃的糖果、玻璃弹珠、零用钱、文具等，都全部连同拳头都塞进袋子里，保护着里头的秘密与梦想。

如今我把手伸进外套的口袋，但找不回昔日的梦想了。我缓缓地走在街上，雨后的微风轻抚我的脸，仿佛将我儿时的回忆都吹回过去。

回忆，就装在儿时那条褪色蓝色短裤的右边袋子里。

（完成于24/3/2005, 校内作文练习）

[Indulgence] When the Sun Is at the Other Side of the Earth

It's night time. The sun is at the other side of the earth. No moon, no stars (due to urbanization). I wonder how long since I last slept for 8 hours.

I like the day time, and the night time.

Good morning. The sun shines, it's warm and bright and clear. There is hope, since it's the beginning of a day. I like to see the rays of sunlight sneaking through the half-opened windows to my room in the morning.
I don't really like the afternoon. Warm. Sleepy. Work. Activities. Meetings. Tiredness. The sun is too bright and too high above, directly shining on top of my head. I don't feel like doing anything. It's like I'm lost and trapped in the middle of a day. I wonder how many afternoons have I wasted away.
And the evenings, time to go home. Take a shower and rest. I don't really like to work in the evenings. After classes and activities, who wouldn't want a nice hot bath and lay freely on your bed to rest?

Finally.
Night time. Normally it's the time where I do most of my work. To me, the night is like a gate, a bridge, the Nai He Bridge, (奈何桥）.

Believed by the Chinese/Buddhist, the bridge is where dead people (their souls) will go to after they die. It was believed that there will be an old lady, Meng Po （孟婆）, standing before the bridge, who will give them a bowl of soup (孟婆汤，soup of Meng Po）to drink, and that they will forget about their past life, and tou tai (投胎), to start a new life again.

Yeah. A new life, a new day and a new beginning. After the night, it's another day again. The sun will rise; I'll have to repeat my routine again. And yes I could make changes if there's a new beginning for me. What will you do when you know you are going to die soon? To do the things undone? The same goes for me. I finish most of my work at night, because the end is near. I have to finish it before another day comes.

You're right, the eleventh hour, is when I do my work. Miserable.

Staying awake through the night is sometimes enjoyable.

For the first time I didn't sleep for the night, I was studying history for JUEC (Junior Unified Examinations Certificate). I was nervous. Since I've messed up my well-organized routine (It was before, but not anymore). I felt dizzy, I was hungry, I felt strengthless. And yet I still kept on stuffing the history in my brain. (It doesn't help much though. I still got a B for it.)

For the next few times feeling the earth rotating, I'm getting used to it. All I can say now is, the night is inspiring. (As people might wonder, normally I'm staying up to study, and dozed off somehow.) The night is as silent as the graveyard. A few barks from the neighbour's dog, some mourning of the bugs, some food-hunting lizards. No cars, no unwanted noises. People in the house have fallen asleep too. There is only me, and my time. My own precious night. I like the silence. I like my own time and space, where I can create my own dreams with no disturbance. I have a lot in mind, and I can sketch it all out at the silent night.

No pain, no gain. Although the night is wonderful, staying through it is getting me eye bags and fatigue. But for the inspirations and the arts, it's worth it.

[Life] Where's My Elastic Limit?

Tired. Physically and mentally. I don't feel right.

Am I trying to escape from my current situation? Running away 'cause I'm scared to face it? Yeah, I would. I heard of a meaningful saying, when you've reached the end of the rope, tie a knot and hold on. Well, I like this piece of advice, and I'm practising it. I'm holding on, and I've tied a few knots down there. But damn I don't know how to move forward.

The mood test said that I'm feeling intense. Even friends who talked to me can feel that I'm stressed. Boy, I'm loosening up. I've been wondering and wandering. I told myself to carry on and get through this. I will get through this, I'm formidable, remember? I kept convincing myself (as I always do) but this time I heard some noises (杂声）. They asked me, Why do you wanna get through this? I want to succeed in my life. (Well, i didn't think much) What is success to you? Under what situation you called that success? (Grr...) When I can do someting better, and let everyone else approve me and my work. (I didn't think much too) Why do you want to succeed? Why do you wanna let others approve you? How do you know when you are something better than before? (Ok, I've had enough of this. I felt insulted when people deny and start questioning my belief, especially when I'm emotionally unstable.)

• A force causes changes in length, thickness, or other linear dimension (causes the body to accelerate or changes its velocity).

• Pressure causes changes in volume, which may be isotropic (occuring equally in all directions) or anisotropic (being greater in one direction than another).

So basically, the pressure acting on me now is changing my routine, changing my life, changing my perspective, changing me.

• Elasticity is the tendency of objects to return to their original shape and size after a force deforming them has been removed.

• The elastic limit (tensile strength) of a material is the maximum amount of force (tensile stress) that it can be subjected to before it breaks.

When a rubber band was pulled or stretched until surpassed its elastic limit, the rubber band will either be very loose or it will break. (Do you think I'll break too?)



I get frustrated and annoyed easily. Well, someone might say that it's PMS (Pre-menstrual Syndrome), it's totally normal. If only it were true. If only I can get over it. Why do you wanna get over with it? Shut up. I hear no one. But myself. And I say I am tough. I can handle all this.

I will hang on till the end. Just as I'll finish all the food in my bowl even though I'm already full. Even though I have to crawl...even though my limbs will be scratched and will leave scars. (Even though I can see my eyebags getting heavier everyday, even though I lack sleep everyday)

I'm sorry. I know I have made people around me worry about me. Made people lost faith in me. (Did I?) I'm sorry if I have disappointed you all. Maybe I'm only hanging at the edge of cliff, and I'm still shouting back and believing that I'm alright. I don't really seek for help. So partners, sorry because sometimes I just like to act on my own. It's not that I wanted to finish the whole thing by myself. It's not that I wanted to let others know I've did a lot. It's just that I don't know how to let go of something, I don't like to repeat myself over and over again (to different partners). And somehow I don't know how to let you know what I feel, or what I'm thinking. And...and I just wanted the assignments to meet my expectations. If you couldn't catch what's on my mind, how could you possibly realize my expectations? I'm arrogant.

And that's one of the reasons that I've made myself busy. I'm not really one perfectionist - but in some way...I am. I'm not those who wanted to reach perfection in every single thing, for example, her biology notes just couldn't have a single drop of liquid paper on it, or else she'll rewrite the whole page again. For my kind of perfectionist - I just wanted it to meet my expectations, I wanted my piece of work to be unique and different. That's why I'm scared when I couldn't come up with ideas that I'm really proud of it. I'm afraid that it'll be some ordinary stuffs, just like everyone else's. I'm a coward. Now you know why I'm so easily stressed.

I can't think properly. I still don't know where my elastic limit is, after all the forces that act on me. Well, I hope that I don't have an elastic limit.