你的脸颊
还有似柔的，不曾被轻拂过的细发
于叶片交错，高木重林中的阳光闪烁间发光；


我猫在枯燥落叶堆旁
悄悄地向遥远的太阳礼拜
希望闭上眼后
我对你的思念
会化作几道无形的紫外线
在你最不经意之刻
为你寂寥的心
带来一丝的暖意与慰籍


这样，
就够了

Philosophy or Fiction? The line that converges...

Watching 'One Tree Hill' has provided me a wide source of really good authors who are oblivious to us, especially those who doesn't really read english novels, names such as Ayn Rand, E.E. Cummings who once celebrated renowned fame in their times seem to be a lost thread between the space of nothingness. We are yearning for good authors, yet but only to get our hands on authors who thrived in romance, suspense, action, mystery and fantasy...authors of fancy movies or screenplay-to-be stereotyped novels are indeed more than common nowadays. Fumbling over the racks of bookstore or library? A vast sea of books are waiting there for you. Do you have the one in god-knows-how-much chance to find a book which inspires many and worth your time? To be truthful, me as a reader myself all these years, have tried all sort of ways to dive into this little forgotten corner and only reach as far as classics and popular reads in the newspaper section.

Reading classics and popular reads won't make you dull but the sense of losing touch with your own senses tells you that you are craving for something philosophical but yet not as heavy or serious as the materials which are crafted in an overly professional manner in the superficial meaning of 'philosophy'. You might like something fictional, yet mind-tickling. And then I found Haruki Murakami. He rocks, and he continues to.

Until then, I find another author which might bring your attention closer to the screen. I say this, try 'Ayn Rand'.

It is a big name. But I never heard of it. You might pinpoint me on that, telling me that I am really out of touch with the literary world. But here I am, discovering big names which I never heard of every day. Name it: Shusaku Endo, E. E. Cummings, Truman Capote, Ayn Rand...well, you know.

So let's put it short. This post I concentrate my topic on Ayn Rand. She's another author who successfully merge philosophy and fiction, blending both of them into a world of self-discovery and deep pondering. You might ask why she's popular. Then here's the answer: her book "Atlas Shrugged" was and is voted as the second most influential book in the whole America after Bible. Good news: it still is.

A book which delves into materialising the theme of what man lives for, she scourged every possible ground you may think of to give answers. Answers in the forms of questions. You might get yourself another set of answers, and that's perfectly okay with Ayn Rand. She encourages Objectivism. To realize a truth which exists beyond our conscience. She did not deny religion, but she refuses to include religion into our way of thinking. I agree with her the most on this. Why referring yourself to the divine for all your unfound answers? Are you happy with the answers you get? That God is watching over you? You can find the perfect peace and serenity deep within you? When it comes to that, certainly, everything is metaphysical. It has nothing to do with your belief or your faith or your set of rules or other people's set of rules or the Bible's set of rules. All is you and nothing but you. You want an answer, then you understand it, and you live through your questions, then eventually you will reach it.

Grab a copy of "Atlas Shrugged" and tune yourself into a self-discovering path. You might think otherwise than the author, and you are encouraged to do so. It's you yourself who is facing the situation right? It's not the author. Think freely before assigning your mind to certain boundaries or set of rules. To be yourself, a 'yourself' which is wise enough to ponder over the rights and wrongs of your own actions.

Hahaha...i relax my tone a little bit now...this book is about 1000 over pages. So don't stick your tongue when you find out the price of it. But then, it's worth it. Trust me. ;-) Luckily my university's library has it. hahahahaha...as what caryn puts it, my library is the dream of all those hungry readers like her and me. :-P

I end this with a quote:

"Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won. It exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours."

- Ayn Rand "Atlas Shrugged"

"As happens sometimes a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment. And then the moment was gone."

- "Of Mice and Men" by John Steinback.

Feelings: We live up to them

Note: This post is specially dedicated to xinch and all my best pals around the world.


The Sentence
by Anna Akhmatova
And the stone word fell
On my still-living breast.
Never mind, I was ready.
I will manage somehow.

Today I have so much to do:
I must kill memory once and for all,
I must turn my soul to stone,
I must learn to live again—

Unless . . . Summer's ardent rustling
Is like a festival outside my window.
For a long time I've foreseen this
Brilliant day, deserted house.

Translated from the Russian by Judith Hemschemeyer

There's a time when everything seems to be idle and dead. People having fun, dancing, enjoying everything around like they never had, and you are there, sitting at some place alone, without the whole world noticing you. But the feeling is so calm and soothing. You feel contented. You are self-sufficient. Something has changed, sometimes you wanna turn back the time, but still, a place inside your heart whispers: No, don't.

You struggle for a while. Then you stop struggling. You begin to remember and then you cry. You wipe your tears and then you stand up straight. The whole world which seems to be so familiar turns out to be so unusually strange. You know what you are capable of now. You see through a lot of stuff which you never did.

Back then, you killed your memory. You turn yourself into a stone. No, that was not bad. It isn't, not at all. Others believe it or don't, you know you had gone through everything that would have changed things the other way round.

Therefore, deep inside, you know this by heart:
Never mind, I was ready.
I will manage somehow.

Things that had passed never come around again. You know that instinctly. We don't live another life. Choices made are made sure to be made wisely. We bear with every little consequence of every little choice we made. You finally realize that. Therefore, those people who had betrayed, befriend you again; those beautiful moments which seemed to be so true and close to you once; those days when you sit with so-called friends of yours on the bench, laughing your head off and thinking of never seeing sun rising again; those many many moments and stuff which you hold ardently deep within, all of them, is separated from you in a sudden. You are walking alongside your friends, having moments which you think you will cherish before this, but then, you only see stillness. You feel...contented.

Then pass were those days. Today, you and I, we truly know that we have changed. Those things will never cherish or hurt us again. Not because we don't have anything to do with it anymore. It's just that we are through. Thoroughly through.

From today onwards, we realize who are our true friends and what are our true feelings. We live up to them, and we will always do.

Summer's ardent rustling
Is like a festival outside my window.
For a long time I've foreseen this
Brilliant day, deserted house.


Long live the days where everything holds true and dear to us. You and I, we'd held our hands and walk through this. Tomorrow's today, you know it, we're one, all my dear friends.