Idiot

On the eve of the 9th anniversary of the September 11 attack, Reverend Terry Jones, who got his 15 minutes of fame, called off the burning of the Quran. It’s all but a scam. The story of how one lone idiot and cult leader held the media hostage and forced some of this nation’s most powerful people to their knees to fitfully beg an end to his wackdoodlery is an extraordinary one. Not only that this anti-Muslim propaganda is a fear-based campaign ruse, what shocks me the most is that the media is complicit in it. The reverend essentially has blackmailed some of the most important people in America, with the assistance of the media. All of this finally culminated with yesterday’s press conference—which is really shame on ABC and some of the New York City stations to even report on it, where Terry Jones lied and said that the Park51 community center was going to move, thanks to him. President Obama now has to announce that it’s wrong to burn Quran. The White House is embarrassed to be caught between two loyalties. The war against terrorism and the defense of religious freedom. Now the people behind Park51 are on the hook for stopping this Quran burning, and all of the negative external impact it may have. Maybe the reverend is a fan of William Faulkner. It’s a modern media retelling of Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying, in which a gang of Islamaphobes, cast in the role of Addie Bundren, bamboozle the media into carrying their coffin full of malevolence on a journey of pure debasement. Faulkner might be intimidating, but he’s certainly not outdated!

Bookish Companion, a Matt’s Musing

A sudden thought takes hold of my mind, thus a Matt’s musing.

We made love the next morning. It was Saturday and we had a long, leisurely breakfast in the diner around the corner. I enjoyed weekends and the chance to have breakfast with Corey. We nosed around in bookstores that afternoon. Corey looked both intellectual and hunky in a bookstore and I had to restrain myself to keep from hugging him. Surprising Myself, Christoper Bram p.171

This is the sweetest passage I’ve ever read from GLBT literature. The simple language conveys a most casual and mundane domesticity in life, and yet evokes over-brimming bliss. What else is more reassuring in love and intimate than to share with someone your life’s passion? I feel lucky and bliss to have found the special person in life with whom I can discuss and exchange books (and so much more). How would I know that taking a pure chance would reward me all the memories and happiness?

Red Thread, Endless Story

An ancient Chinese proverb speaks of a silken red thread of destiny which connects one person to another. It is said that this magical cord may tangle or stretch out but never break. At the wedding I was reminded of this traditional practice at the sight of a red thread tied up around the wrists of the bride and groom. The same red thread also ties up two pair of coconuts, which pronounced as “ye zi”, symbolize “grandfather and son” with the implication of bearing lots of children.

“An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet,
regardless of time, place, or circumstance.
The thread may stretch or tangle,
but it will never break.”

The red thread comes up in the reading of The Teahouse Fire by Ellis Avery today. The legend has since also become a popular myth in Japanese culture and other East Asian cultures.

“There’s a red thread that ties you to the person you’re going to marry. I thought Akio was at the other end of mine, but he wasn’t. It’s not up to me. Do you understand? So it doesn’t matter.” [138]

My mother used to tell me that love and marriage at her times were very simple. There weren’t that many places where one can meet people. Parents usually kept curfew that girls had to come home earlier than Cinderella did. Their future husbands might be a neighbor, a co-worker, or a family relation that paid visit at the house. I can’t help wondering why, with so much possibility for connection, aren’t people feel more connected to one another on a personal, intimate level? Did the scarcity of connections then actually make it easier for people to commit to a relationship? I see a world of people who are fearful of committing, who are haunted by their failure, and whose red threads are all entangled.

Endless Story – Yuna Ito

If you haven’t changed your mind
Then I want you by my side Tonight

I’m so tired of always having to bluff
Everytime I think about you baby, I feel so young
If I could just tell you I miss you
It’s so hard to say I’m sorry

You see, I want to sing this song, not for just anyone
but just for you
An ENDLESS STORY that keeps on shining
Always, I wanna show you, forever and ever

Memories of our time together
this way, they don’t go away

Once I knew that the warmth between us had disappeared,
gentle tears started to spread over my chest
This is not where it ends, I’m missing you
please don’t let go of my hand

You see, I wish I could sing this song, just for you
just one more time
An ENDLESS STORY of undying love
tell me why, please tell me, forever and ever

You see, I want to sing this song, not for just anyone
but just for you
An ENDLESS STORY that keeps on shining
Always, I wanna show you, forever and ever

You see, I wish I could sing this song, just for you
just one more time
An ENDLESS STORY of undying love
tell me why, please tell me, forever and ever

A Moment of Thought

其實我怕你的好感基於我修養 其實最怕你的私心窺准我體諒
無人問我寂寞盡頭何處去養傷 原來是我的心境高到變為 偶像

I paused and wrote down these thoughts that encroached my mind during commute. It’s one of those awakening moment, like sharp blade of sun ray piercing through the clouds–Matt’s moment.

I know some men who spend their whole lives searching for that never ending excitement…becoming lost in the thrill of being the hunter and taking the captive. Never realizing what they have missed, ignored or passed up…what was offered right before them. They never see the real fire of love or allow themselves to become lost in another’s embrace…. Sometimes, there is nothing bigger or more powerful then the little things that we share in our-lives with each other. The boundaries of love are endless. It can be amazing, it can truly hurt, but without experiencing it, one has not lived fully. Love is what means to be human. Love is the meaning of life. Love is the path to happiness. Love is the greatest challenge, the deepest depth, farthest horizon, and the noblest aspiration. Even if the love is unrequited, or unappreciated, like what she is singing in the song, one still has to love Love never fails.

**I’m frightfully busy with reading all the final papers and portfolios from my Russian Literature class, which concluded last Thursday as they clapped over the film of The Master and Margarita. I’ve got two more weeks of Freshman Composition, and meanwhile I’ll have to catch up with blogging, attending to your comments and reading your blogs. I’ll post Tuesday Thingers tomorrow.

Tears, Getty

A while ago my friend Greg used to host this Friday tunes game in which bloggers are to guess from the lyrics he provided the song and the artist. So I decide to host a round of this game. Tears immediately welled up in my eyes and trickled down my face when this 1981-2 platinum hit floated into the air from the radio as I pulled into the Getty.

Here I am playing with those memories again
And just when I thought time had set me free
Those thoughts of you keep taunting me

Holding you, a feeling I never outgrew
Though each and every part of me has tried
Only you can fill that space inside

So there’s no sense pretending
My heart it’s not mending

Just when I thought I was over you
And just when I thought I could stand on my own
Oh, baby those memories come crashing through
And I just can’t go on without you

On my own I’ve tried to make the best of it alone
I’ve done everything I can to ease the pain
But only you can stop the rain

I just can’t live without you
I miss everything about you

Just when I thought I was over you
And just when I thought I could stand on my own
Oh baby those memories come crashing through
And I just can’t go on without
Go on without
It’s just no good without you

Without you, without you, without you
Oh baby, those memories come crashing through
And I just can’t go on without, you

So what is the name of this tear-jerker? Who is the artist? I’ll tell you the answer when I get back. And don’t worry, I’m fine, just a bit too emotional and sensitive at times! I am what the Chinese call a person with shallow eyes–plagued by too much weakness.. I take people and relationship too seriously. But the good thing is, I’ve got George (my lab) to hug with! I guess healing a process that is not complete without tears.

Ocean Deep

It’s my habit to set the radio on a timer at night. I’d fall asleep on the easy-listening tunes that gently airs out into the dark room after I have turned in for the night. Last night the silky, sexy voice of Cliff Richard seeped to my earshot. Ocean Deep. The tune has been a weakness, a tear-jerker, a stinger. It was no more than just another catchy tune when I first heard it in the 80s, then the magnitude of its impact on me has inevitably grown as my dating life has become horrifyingly assimilated to the lyrics.

Love, can’t you see I’m alone
Can’t you give this fool a chance
A little love is all I ask – a little kindness
In the night
Please don’t leave me behind
No – don’t tell me love is blind
A little love is all I ask and that is all

Oh love I’ve been searching so long
I’ve been searching high and low
A little love is all I ask – a little sadness
When you’re gone
Maybe you need a friend
Only please don’t let’s pretend
A little love is all I ask and that is all

I wanna spread my wings – but I just can’t fly
As a string of pearls and pretty girls go sailing by

Ocean deep – I’m so afraid to show my feelings
I have sailed a million ceilings – in my -
Solitary room
Ocean deep – will I ever find a lover
Maybe she has found another
And as I cry myself to sleep
I know this love of mine Ill keep – ocean deep

Love can’t you hear when I call
Can’t you hear a word I say
A little love is all I ask
A little feeling when we touch
Why am I still alone?
I’ve got a heart without a home
A little love is all I ask – and that is all

I wanna spread my wings – but I just can’t fly
As a string of pearls and pretty girls go sailing by

Ocean deep – I’m so afraid to show my feelings
I have sailed a million ceilings – in my -
Solitary room
Ocean deep – will I ever find a lover
Maybe she has found another
And as I cry myself to sleep
I know this love of mine Ill keep – ocean deep

I’m so lonely lonely lonely…
Maybe…

Don’t worry–I didn’t cry myself to sleep. It was just a reflection of reality–a call that I should no longer dwell on all the negatives of relationship. Without doubt man’s heart is as deep as the ocean, and to find that special someone is like searching for a needle in an ocean. The song is just one of the many attributes in life that helps shape who I am. A beautiful song. Why is it that the most beautiful romantic tunes are always sad?

Growth Rings

I took a stroll at Golden Gate Park and found beautiful growth rings on the tree trunk. Visible rings result from the change in growth speed through the seasons of the year, thus one ring usually marks the passage of one year in the life of the tree.

To me every ring represents the time, the effort, and skein of memory of a relationship. Even if the relationship has withered, like a piece of dry wood chopped open, the  rings will remain. They’re marks to eternity.

Breaking up is easy, wiping out what is imprinted is difficult.

Toss in the Heart

That’s his shadow on the beach.

I don’t know if I’ll call it a rebounce, or maybe it’s just an illusion. Five months after the split, we went to Hawai’i together, spent a lot more time than all the months combined when we were dating. All the heart-to-heart talk, the slouching on the couch watching a DVD, the drive around the island, and the special birthday dinner–the vital signs of getting back together. The worst thing was that I had never expected I’d have fallen back for him. I thought I have taken a leap and got over the romantic relationship.

I feel like I’ve been no more than revolving around the loop. I haven’t even broken away from that intimate tie and be off the tangent to single life. I have been so self-deceived that I have given him up. During his birthday dinner at his favorite restaurant, under the spell of wine, I quickly changed tack and talked about how much of a blast the trip had been and cut him off from divulging the real reason of the split.

Not so much that I couldn’t the truth begetting the split as the fear of spoiling the vacation. Sometimes it’s better to not be in the know. My feeling is that he still cares for me and loves me more than he’s able yet to admit. The two long-term relationships in the past still haunt him and make him flinch at commitment. At the same time, I don’t want to be pushy and aggressive, just letting things take the natural course.

I almost want to tell him that I didn’t really fall in love with him until about a month before he decided to split. That, was really tough time for me.When I told him it will be difficult to find someone else, I spoke the gut-wrenching truth. He’s the best I’ve ever found.

Beating Around the Bush

Friday morning at Cafe Flore is usually a refuge. I usually take advantage of the hour-or-so specious calm before the tourists (summertime) come pouring in. It’s Tutti Fruiti Friday at the joint today as later on in the evening a live band will perform. I settled at the usual table in the corner for the maximum exposure to natural light, cracked open Orwell and took a few sips of the soy latte Be had made me. Four pages into Keep the Aspidistra Flying Mr. VP from this previous drama episode walked in and we had the whole place to ourselves. (Has it been been a month since our orbits last overlapped?) Looking apologetic and not failing to wear that VP smile, he volunteered information of his imminent business travel to Germany, which will tail off to a few days of leisure in Rome before heading back to SF. He asked me about my summer (Haven’t I told you many times that I had been teaching two courses on Russian literature?), which had concluded about a week ago and I’ll be off to some travel in Puerto Vallarta.

The conversation flew a bit more smoothly as the vague sense of embarrassment (from his not keeping in touch maybe?) began to wear away. But we were just beating around the bush, both afraid of venturing into uncharted territory. I told him about going to visit my family in Asia and the side trip to the terrains of Malaysia overland. He reciprocated his pleasant memories in Bali and Phuket, on his own, and spoke in such tender innuendo that he would love go back there with a companion for both places are so romantic. I think he’s aware of my being weary of his frequent business travel, that we always miss each other and the timing is so off that the tender affinity we have built up for each other after a conversation like this one we have slowly loses the staying power–and we’re back to where we were.

I almost wished that he would ask me out, make a solid plan to meet–but I know we probably won’t even rub shoulders until after I return from Mexico and by then he’ll be off to the wind city to see his mother. Timing has never favored us. Although I’ve been upset with him, but I realize he’s genuine. Maybe this is the most we can make out of the crossroad. If that is not meant to be, an occasional running into each other is not a bad thing. At least I don’t have to get the expectation too high up.

Crossover – Reprise

當櫻花迫於遷往悄靜月球
天高海闊珍惜不夠
雛菊都給安葬以後
換到繁榮誰來內疚
只許燈飾普照地球
不許花園開墾幾畝
鮮花死了 至感慨愛得不夠

“Only when flower is trampled do I realize I have not cherished it enough.”

I’m not here to say I’m sorry
I’m not here to lie to you
I’m here to say I’m ready
That I’ve finally thought it through
I’m not here to let your love go
I’m not giving up oh no
I’m here to win your heart and soul
That’s my goal

“We have sorely missed you,…While you dwelled among us, we did not value you at your true worth. Only when you had gone did we perceive how much good you did us, and how much we lost in losing you.”

The guy whom I saw for a bit last summer suddenly called and I couldn’t make of it. All I can say is I’m completely over it and why is it that people would cherish something when they have lost it?