my love song for no one

here's one of mine, hope it speaks to you in one way or another:

It's a wayward journey

that has no end

We hitch a ride from where-

ever we can

The winding road - oh

seems endless ahead

Sanctuary for the

homeless man

Sanctity to a

helpless friend

Your thumb never strays

from the northern sky

Walking: christmas, st. patrick's

dreams of pumpkin pies

The hymns that you sing for

the scorned and fallen

Sanctuary from an

ill reprise

Sanctity to a

hopeless plight

Like the Muir's and the Edwards's

the McCandless's before

You hit the road to answer

that whispering call

Death of the innocent spells

poetry of the damned

Sanctuary for the

forever lost

Sanctity to a

bygone cause

that's it for now, i'm never too good at happy endings...



+listening to: nothing

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`

looking at the facebook photos, i'm really envious of monica and elijah. it seems like the perfect romance. every little thing just looks so right. it's almost like breathless, but with a happily ever after...


+listening to: man on the side by john mayer

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雪

正月初二，大雪。

冬天因该是个浪漫与充满温暖的季节。之所以如此是因为白雪给人们带来的是一种纯洁与温馨的感觉。而也是每当冬季，一家老少都会聚在一起过新年，吃团圆饭。

这也是为什么冬季恋歌那部电视剧会那么流行；它赋予人们的是一种企望，一种向往： 等待春天的到来，而同时又沉浸在冬季的含蓄。那是一种无法用语言来概括的境界。

每当下雪，我都会想家。如今在这异国他乡的我更是如此。我猜是因为儿时的记忆在我的脑海里留下了深深地烙印，至今不忘。我还记得小时候很少看到雪。所以遇到下雪时我都会惊叹不已，等不及的拉着爸爸和我一起出门打雪仗。那时的欢笑，天真已荡然无存了。可这美好的记忆在今日还是会让我感觉到一丝温热。

那已是很久以前的事了。我也很久没有感受到温馨的滋味了。雪。你别来无恙。你将永远陪伴着我，潜伏在我的脑海深处。


+listening to: in the flesh by dream theater

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words

The Eloquent Sounds of Silence

an old time article that i found. i quite liked it. here's an excerpt:

Silence, then, could be said to be the ultimate province of trust: it is the place where we trust ourselves to be alone; where we trust others to understand the things we do not say; where we trust a higher harmony to assert itself. We all know how treacherous are words, and how often we use them to paper over embarrassment, or emptiness, or fear of the larger spaces that silence brings. "Words, words, words" commit us to positions we do not really hold, the imperatives of chatter; words are what we use for lies, false promises and gossip. We babble with strangers; with intimates we can be silent. We "make conversation" when we are at a loss; we unmake it when we are alone, or with those so close to us that we can afford to be alone with them.

+listening to: at last by kevin michael

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home

home. finally logged in to skype and called home. spoke for quite a while. a sigh of relief and a sense of comfort.

and dinner was nice. contemplated if i should. glad i did. haven't eaten out in a long time, a welcoming change to the monotony. and it also made me realize that maybe there are still friends who care. it's a warm feeling on a cold night.


+listening to: nothing

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missing

feb 13. clear. lately i've been seeing the world in streams of consciousness. it's like one of those dreams where the lapse of time is obscured. and you don't really remember when you'd fallen into the slumber.
 
for the first time i can recall, i'm desperately missing home. and all my good friends. it doesn't seem to make sense that all the good things have to come to an end. all i have to hold on to now are picture albums and birthday cards. the more i look at them the harder it is to put it away.

tomorrow i'll be a year wiser. new year's never used to mean anything to me. i've only just realized that you really only start to cherish something when you no longer have it.

my grandma would always tell me to make a wish on new year's eve. so i wish not for fortune or fame. but just a little bit of hope. and something nice to happen. anything to lift me out of this shade of gray that's all around...


+listening to: somebody to love by jefferson airplane

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&

love all, trust few
do wrong to none
see what you will but
don't contemn
say what you like but
don't ridicule


+listening to: nothing

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...

listen:




this is exactly how i'm feeling at this instant. it's like i'm digging myself further and further into the deep end. when that last drop of forget-it-all from the glass empties, then what?

Where all these worries
wear down on me will rise,
Where all these habits
pull heavy at my heart will die...

+listening to: digging a ditch by dave matthews band

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