`tHe NeVeReNdInG fAiRyTaLe~hApPiLy EvEr AfTeR iS nOt ThAt FaR iS iT?` RyAn & MiNdY

Saturday, April 29, 2006
12:21 AM

~Silence doesn't mean apathy~

http://www.bbsland.org/music/other/ChangHuan.mp3

Silence is when one doesn't know what he should say.
Silence is when one is afraid of facing rejection.
Being apart physically doesn't stop one from being a part of the other person's life.
He has never walked away from the one and he doesn't bear any grudge or hatred.
He remembers every word he has spoken to the one and he means them.
Sometimes one ends up putting barriers between himself and others even when he wants to be close.
When he's close to someone he becomes afraid and puts a distance between himself and others.
He chooses to do so because he's afraid he'll forget the one.
However, this fear is unfounded because the one never left his heart.
The one has been living in his heart all the while despite the trying times.
He chooses to be alone because only then he's connected to the one even when they are apart.
When one is alone he never stops thinking about the one who means a lot to him.
He ends up understanding the other person thoroughly and can feel every thought and emotion connected with the one.
He hopes the one is happy but sometimes things doesn't work that way.
He feels sad but he doesn't want the one to worry.
He wishes to speak but no words can come out from his mouth.
He wants to care and support the one but he can't bring himself to say it.
He always remembers what the one has promised him and he has never given up.
He wishes all the agony the one is suffering would be his instead.
He never stops being there for the one.
He just hopes the one can express his truest and most vulnerable side to him.
He will never judge but will instead try to comfort and embrace the one so he doesn't have to hide his truest or rawest emotions and thoughts.
He knows things are hard now but he holds on because he knows that things will turn around one day.
He knows that no matter how bleak the situation seems now, wishes do come true for the most faithful.
Call it blind faith or stupidity it doesn't matter.

imlost...
inafairytale

Saturday, April 22, 2006
7:57 AM

~The Virgin Suicides~

Excerpt: "The Virgin Suicides"
from courtesy of Time Warner Bookmark
by Jeffrey Eugenides Time Warner Books1993

On the morning the last Lisbon daughter took her turn at suicide-it was Mary this time, and sleeping pills, like Therese-the two paramedics arrived at the house knowing exactly where the knife drawer was, and the gas oven, and the beam in the basement from which it was possible to tie a rope. They got out of the EMS truck, as usual moving much too slowly in our opinion, and the fat one said under his breath, "This ain't TV, folks, this is how fast we go." He was carrying the heavy respirator and cardiac unit past the bushes that had grown monstrous and over the erupting lawn, tame and immaculate thirteen months earlier when the trouble began.

Cecilia, the youngest, only thirteen, had gone first, slitting her wrists like a Stoic while taking a bath, and when they found her, afloat in her pink pool, with the yellow eyes of someone possessed and her small body giving off the odor of a mature woman, the paramedics had been so frightened by her tranquillity that they had stood mesmerized. But then Mrs. Lisbon lunged in, screaming, and the reality of the room reasserted itself: blood on the bath mat; Mr. Lisbon's razor sunk in the toilet bowl, marbling the water. The paramedics fetched Cecilia out of the warm water because it quickened the bleeding, and put a tourniquet on her arm. Her wet hair hung down her back and already her extremities were blue. She didn't say a word, but when they parted her hands they found the laminated picture of the Virgin Mary she held against her budding chest.

That was in June, fish-fly season, when each year our town is covered by the flotsam of those ephemeral insects. Rising in clouds from the algae in the polluted lake, they blacken windows, coat cars and street-lamps, plaster the municipal docks and festoon the rigging of sailboats, always in the same brown ubiquity of flying scum. Mrs. Scheer, who lives down the street, told us she saw Cecilia the day before she attempted suicide. She was standing by the curb, in the antique wedding dress with the shorn hem she always wore, looking at a Thunderbird encased in fish flies. "You better get a broom, honey," Mrs. Scheer advised. But Cecilia fixed her with her spiritualist's gaze. "They're dead," she said. "They only live twenty-four hours. They hatch, they reproduce, and then they croak. They don't even get to eat."' And with that she stuck her hand into the foamy layer of bugs and cleared her initials: C.L.

We've tried to arrange the photographs chronologically, though the passage of so many years has made it difficult. A few are fuzzy but revealing nonetheless. Exhibit #1 shows the Lisbon house shortly before Cecilia's suicide attempt. It was taken by a real estate agent, Ms. Carmina D'Angelo, whom Mr. Lisbon had hired to sell the house his large family had long outgrown. As the snapshot shows, the slate roof had not yet begun to shed its shingles, the porch was still visible above the bushes, and the windows were not yet held together with strips of masking tape. A comfortable suburban home. The upper-right second-story window contains a blur that Mrs. Lisbon identified as Mary Lisbon. "She used to tease her hair because she thought it was limp," she said years later, recalling how her daughter had looked for her brief time on earth. In the photograph Mary is caught in the act of blow-drying her hair. Her head appears to be on fire but that is only a trick of the light. It was June 13, eighty-three degrees out, under sunny skies.

When the paramedics were satisfied they had reduced the bleeding to a trickle, they put Cecilia on a stretcher and carried her out of the house to the truck in the driveway. She looked like a tiny Cleopatra on an imperial litter. We saw the gangly paramedic with the Wyatt Earp mustache come out first-the one we'd call "Sheriff" when we got to know him better through these domestic tragedies-and then the fat one appeared, carrying the back end of the stretcher and stepping daintily across the lawn, peering at his police-issue shoes as though looking out for dog shit, though later, when we were better acquainted with the machinery, we knew he was checking the blood pressure gauge. Sweating and fumbling, they moved toward the shuddering, blinking truck. The fat one tripped on a lone croquet wicket. In revenge he kicked it; the wicket sprang loose, plucking up a spray of dirt, and fell with a ping on the driveway. Meanwhile, Mrs. Lisbon burst onto the porch, trailing Cecilia's flannel nightgown, and let out a long wail that stopped time. Under the molting trees and above the blazing, overexposed grass those four figures paused in tableau: the two slaves offering the victim to the altar (lifting the stretcher into the truck), the priestess brandishing the torch (waving the flannel nightgown), and the drugged virgin rising up on her elbows, with an otherworldly smile on her pale lips.

Mrs. Lisbon rode in the bark of the EMS truck, but Mr. Lisbon followed in the station wagon, observing the speed limit. Two of the Lisbon daughters were away from home, Therese in Pittsburgh at a science convention, and Bonnie at music camp, trying to learn the flute after giving up the piano (her hands were too small), the violin (her chin hurt), the guitar (her fingertips bled), and the trumpet (her upper lip swelled). Mary and Lux, hearing the siren, had run home from their voice lesson across the street with Mr. Jessup. Barging into that crowded bathroom, they registered the same shock as their parents at the sight of Cecilia with her spattered forearms and pagan nudity. Outside, they hugged on a patch of uncut grass that Butch, the brawny boy who mowed it on Saturdays, had missed. Across the street, a truckful of men from the Parks Department attended to some of our dying elms. The EMS siren shrieked, going away, and botanist and his crew withdrew their insecticide to watch the truck. When it was gone, they began spraying again. The stately elm tree, also visible in the foreground of Exhibit #1, has since succumbed to the fungus spread by Dutch elm beetles, has been cut down.

The paramedics took Cecilia to Bon Secours Hospital on Kercheval and Maumee. In the emergency room Cecilia watched the attempt to save her life with an eerie detachment. Her yellow eyes didn't blink, nor did she flinch when they stuck a needle in her arm. Dr. Armonson stitched up her wrist wounds. Within five minutes of the transfusion he declared her out of danger. Chucking her under her chin, he said, "What are you doing here, honey? You're not even old enough to know how bad life gets."

And it was then Cecilia gave orally what was to be her only form of suicide note, and a useless one at that, because she was going to live: "Obviously, Doctor, she said, "you've never been a thirteen-year-old girl."

The Lisbon girls were thirteen (Cecilia), and fourteen (Lux), and fifteen (Bonnie), and sixteen (Mary), and seventeen (Therese). They were short, round-buttocked in denim, with roundish cheeks that recalled that same dorsal softness. Whenever we got a glimpse, their faces looked indecently revealed, as though we were used to seeing women in veils. No one could understand how Mr. and Mrs. Lisbon had produced such beautiful children. Mr. Lisbon taught high-school math. He was thin, boyish, stunned by his own gray hair. He had a high voice, and when Joe Larson told us how Mr. Lisbon had cried when Lux was later rushed to the hospital during her own suicide scare, we could easily imagine the sound of his girlish weeping.

Whenever we saw Mrs. Lisbon we looked in vain for some sign of the beauty that must have once been hers. But the plump arms, the brutally cut steel-wool hair, and the librarian's glasses foiled us every time. We saw her only rarely, in the morning, fully dressed though the sun hadn't come up, stepping out to snatch up the dewy milk cartons, or on Sundays when the family drove in their paneled station wagon to St. Paul's Catholic Church on the Lake. On those mornings Mrs. Lisbon assumed a queenly iciness. Clutching her good purse, she checked each daughter for signs of makeup before allowing her to get in the car, and it was not unusual for her to send Lux back inside to put on a less revealing top. None of us went to church, so we had a lot of time to watch them, the two parents leached of color, like photographic negatives, and then the five glittering daughters in their homemade dresses, all lace and ruffle, bursting with their fructifying flesh.

Only one boy had ever been allowed in the house. Peter Sissen had helped Mr. Lisbon install a working model of the solar system in his classroom at school, and in return Mr. Lisbon had invited him for dinner. He told us the girls had kicked him continually under the table, from every direction, so that he couldn't tell who was doing it. They gazed at him with their blue febrile eyes and smiled, showing their crowded teeth, the only feature of the Liabon girls we could ever find fault with. Bonnie was the only one who didn't give Peter Sissen a secret look or kick. She only said grace and ate her food silently, lost in the piety of a fifteen-year-old. After the meal Peter Sissen asked to go to the bathroom, and because Therese and Mary were both in the downstairs one, giggling and whispering, he had to use the girls', upstairs. He came back to us with stories of bedrooms filled with crumpled panties, of stuffed animals hugged to death by the passion of the girls, of a crucifix draped with a brassiere, of gauzy chambers of canopied beds, and of the effluvia of so many young girls becoming women together in the same cramped space. In the bathroom, running the faucet to cloak the sounds of his search, Peter Sissen found Mary Lisbon's secret cache of cosmetics tied up in a sock under the sink: tubes of red lipstick and the second skin of blush and base, and the depilatory wax that informed us she had a mustache we had never seen. In fact, we didn't know whose makeup Peter Sissen had found until we saw Mary Lisbon two weeks later on the pier with a crimson mouth that matched the shade of his descriptions.

Storyline
At the outset of the novel, the Lisbons seem like a normal Catholic family. The father is a math teacher at the local high school and the mother is a homemaker. The family has five daughters: 13-year old Cecilia, 14-year-old Lux, 15-year-old Bonnie, 16-year-old Mary, and 17-year-old Therese. (Despite this, the very first sentence of the novel makes its conclusion unmistakably clear.)
Their lives change dramatically within one summer when Cecilia, a stoic and astute girl, attempts suicide by cutting herself. A few weeks later, the girls throw a chaperoned party at which Cecilia jumps from their second story window, ending her life.
Afterwards, life seemingly returns to normal for the Lisbons—although the cause of Cecilia’s suicide and its aftereffects on the family are popular subjects of neighborhood gossip. The mystique of the Lisbon girls also increases to the neighborhood boys.
Lux begins a romance with local heartthrob Trip Fontaine. Trip negotiates with the overprotective Mr. and Mrs. Lisbon to take Lux to a homecoming dance on the condition that he finds dates for the other three girls. The girls attend the dance but Trip and Lux sneak off afterwards to have sex and Lux misses curfew.
Afterwards, the Lisbons become recluses. The girls are pulled out of school and Mr. Lisbon is fired for his erratic behavior. The Lisbons do not care for their house or garden anymore. From a safe distance, all the people in the neighborhood watch the Lisbons, but no one can summon up the courage to intervene.
Afterwards, the Lisbons become increasingly fascinating to the neighborhood in general and the neighborhood boys in particular. The boys call the Lisbon girls and communicate by playing records over the telephone for the girls. Also, Lux begins a series of promiscuous sexual encounters on the Lisbon’s roof.
Eventually, the girls send a message to their distant admirers asking for help escaping the house. But moments after they arrive, the four sisters kill themselves in a suicide pact. Afterwards, Mr. and Mrs. Lisbon leave the neighborhood. The house is sold and most of the Lisbons’ personal effects are sold in a garage sale.

imlost...
inafairytale

Friday, April 21, 2006
3:54 AM

~songs 2~

歌曲：死性不改
歌手：boy'z&twins 专辑：一起喝采
http://star.new-youth.com/uploadfile/2005112652268485.mp3

twins:再见了我的宠爱
谁愿接受这种意外
你赞我天生可爱
不愿看着我离开

同伴也话我傻
喜欢受挫
宁愿情敌在伤我

人天生根本都不可以爱死身边的一个
无奈你最够刺激我
凡事也治倒我
几多黑心的教唆
我亦捱得过
来煽风来点火就击倒我么

谁恋爱就多障碍死性我不想改
如我没有你的爱
我没法活得来
情人的存在是我从来都志在
能在我拱手让爱

boy'z:我怕可一不可再
难道你被爱都有害

我确信天真不会错
威力会移山填海

同伴也话我傻喜欢受挫
宁愿情敌在伤我

合:人天生根本都不可以爱死身边的一个
无奈你最够刺激我
凡事也治倒我
几多黑心的教唆
我亦捱得过
来煽风来点火就击倒我么
谁恋爱就多障碍死性我不想改
如我没有你的爱
我没法活得来
情人的存在是我从来都志在
能在我拱手让爱

张信哲--太想爱你
http://www.kkkmp3.com/music/zxz/10.mp3

慌乱城市中
连风都不自由
热闹的街头
就属我最寂寞

是爱的蛊惑
让我又兴起贪求的念头
有多爱我够不够久
会不会走

藏在柔顺背後
你忠於自我
情爱里游走
从不曾见你低头
我却常犯错
像一个太忙太累太傻的陀螺
转个不休只放不收
停不了手

太想爱你是我压抑不了的念头
想要全面占领你的喜怒哀愁
你已征服了我却还不属於我
叫我如何不去猜测你在想什麽

太想爱你是我压抑不了的折磨
能否请你不要不要选择闪躲
只想爱你的我太想爱你的我
难道只能在迷雾中猜你的轮廓

藏在柔顺背後
你忠於自我
情爱里游走
从不曾见你低头
我却常犯错
像一个太忙太累太傻的陀螺
转个不休只放不收停不了手

太想爱你是我压抑不了的念头
想要全面占领你的喜怒哀愁
你已征服了我却还不属於我
叫我如何不去猜测你在想什麽

太想爱你是我压抑不了的折磨
能否请你不要不要选择闪躲
只想爱你的我太想爱你的我
难道只能在迷雾中猜你的轮廓

太想爱你是我压抑不了的念头
想要全面占领你的喜怒哀愁
你已征服了我却还不属於我
叫我如何不去猜测你在想什麽

太想爱你是我压抑不了的折磨
能否请你不要不要选择闪躲
只想爱你的我太想爱你的我
难道只能在迷雾中猜你的轮廓

歌手：王力宏专辑：唯一
http://www.jnjyw.edu.cn/music/mp3/3.mp3

我的天空多么的清晰
透明的全都是过去的空气
牵着我的手是你
拌你的笑容却看不清

是否一颗星星变了心
从前的愿望你全都给抛弃
最近我无法呼吸连自己的影子
都想找你oh baby

你就是我的唯一
两个世界都变形
回去谈和容易
确定你就是我的唯一
独自对着电话说我爱你
我真的爱你
baby我已不能爱你多一些
其实早已超过了爱的界限

歌手：邓丽君专辑：慎芝词
我只在乎你
http://www.tmyu.cn/...iecysec/w我只在乎你.mp3

如果没有遇见你,我将会是在哪里?
日子过得怎么样,人生是否要珍惜?
也许认识某一人,过着平凡的日子.
不知道会不会,也有爱情甜如蜜?

任时光匆匆流去,我只在乎你.
心甘情愿感染你的气息.
人生几何能够得到知己?
失去生命的力量也不可惜.

所以我求求你,别让我离开你.
除了你,我不能感到,一丝丝情意.

如果有那么一天,你说即将要离去.
我会迷失我自己,走入无边人海里.
不要什么诺言,只要天天在一起.
我不能只依靠,片片回忆活下去.

任时光匆匆流去,我只在乎你.
心甘情愿感染你的气息.
人生几何能够得到知己?
失去生命的力量也不可惜.

所以我求求你,别让我离开你.
除了你,我不能感到,一丝丝情意.

任时光匆匆流去,我只在乎你.
心甘情愿感染你的气息.
人生几何能够得到知己?
失去生命的力量也不可惜.

所以我求求你,别让我离开你.
除了你,我不能感到,一丝丝情意.

歌手：王菲专辑：唱游
http://www.mz121.com/.../tracks/798469906.mp3
红豆曲:柳重言词:林夕

还没好好的感受
雪花绽放的气候
我们一起颤抖
会更明白什么是温柔

还没跟你牵著手
走过荒芜的沙丘
可能从此以後
学会珍惜天长和地久

有时候有时候
我会相信一切有尽头
相聚离开都有时候
没有什么会永垂不朽

可是我有时候
宁愿选择留恋不放手
等到风景都看透
也许你会陪我看细水长流

还没为你把红豆
熬成缠绵的伤口
然後一起分享
会更明白相思的哀愁

还没好好的感受
醒著亲吻的温柔
可能在我左右
你才追求孤独的自由

有时候有时候
我会相信一切有尽头
相聚离开都有时候
没有什么会永垂不朽

可是我有时候
宁愿选择留恋不放手
等到风景都看透
也许你会陪我看细水长流

有时候有时候
我会相信一切有尽头
相聚离开都有时候
没有什么会永垂不朽

可是我有时候
宁愿选择留恋不放手
等到风景都看透
也许你会陪我看细水长流

歌手：张信哲专辑：醉心
张信哲--难以抗拒你容颜

http://61.136.63.200/music/zhuanji/zhangxinzhe/nanyikangjuniderongyan.mp3

你仿佛从没见过我

只是让我梦成空

伤心不语退缩

幻想也许是你假装不看我

让我得不到更珍惜所有

我试着对你微微笑

你总视而不见

何必何必何必

却又难以抗拒难以放弃

就算你对我说别再烦我

你难以靠近难以不再想念

我难以抗拒你容颜

把心画在写给你的信中

希望偶尔能够见到你微笑的容颜

你难以靠近难以不再想念

我难以抗拒你容颜

把心画在写给你的信中

希望明天能够见到你会心的容颜

我试着对你微微笑

你总视而不见

何必何必何必

却又难以抗拒难以放弃

就算你对我说别再烦我

你难以靠近难以不再想念

我难以抗拒你容颜

把心画在写给你的信中

希望偶尔能够见到你微笑的容颜

你难以靠近难以不再想念

我难以抗拒你容颜

把心画在写给你的信中

希望明天能够见到你会心的容颜

你难以靠近难以不再想念

我难以抗拒你容颜

把心画在写给你的信中希望偶

imlost...
inafairytale

12:26 AM

~songs~

歌曲：从开始到现在
歌手：张信哲专辑：从开始到现在
http://www.mx9.net/non-cgi/usr/10/10_2358_3.mp3

如果这是最后的结局
为何我还忘不了你
时间改变了我们告别了单纯

如果重缝也无法继续
失去才算是永恒
惩罚我的认真是我太过天真

难道我就这样过我的一生
我的吻注定吻不到最爱的人
为你等从一开始盼到现在也同样落得不可能

难道爱情可以转交给别人
但命运注定留不住我爱的人
我不能我怎么会愿意承认你是我不该爱的人

如果再见是为了再分
失去才算是永恒
一次新的记忆为何还要再生

难道我就这样过我的一生
我的吻注定吻不到最爱的人
为你等从一开始盼到现在也同样落得不可能

难道爱情可以转交给别人
但命运注定留不住我爱的人
我不能我怎么会愿意承认你是我不该爱的人

拿什么作证
从未想过爱一个人
需要那么残忍才证明爱得深

歌曲：黄昏
歌手：周传雄专辑：transfer
http://video1.zjonline.com.cn/music/huanghun.mp3

过完整个夏天
忧伤并没有好一些
开车行驶在公路无际无边
有离开自己的感觉
唱不完一首歌
疲倦还剩下黑眼圈
感情的世界伤害在所难免
黄昏再美终要黑夜
依然记得从你口中说出再现坚决如铁
昏暗中有种烈日灼身的错觉
黄昏的地平线
划出一句离别
爱情进入永夜
依然记得从你眼中滑落的泪伤心欲绝
混乱中有种热泪烧伤的错觉
黄昏的地平线
割断幸福喜悦
相爱已经幻灭

歌曲：安静
歌手：周杰伦专辑：fantasy
http://scnxyz.com/department/pages/personalpage/g20080110/music/file/music1.mp3

只剩下钢琴陪我谈了一天
睡着的大提琴安静的旧旧的
想你已表现的非常明白
懂我也知道你没有舍不得
你说你也会难过我不相信
牵着你陪着我也只是曾经
希望他是真的比我还要爱你
我才会逼自己离开
你要我说多难堪
我根本不想分开
为什么还要我用微笑来带过
我没有这种天份
包容你也接受他
不用担心的太多
我会一直好好过
你已经远远离开
我也会慢慢走开
为什么我连分开都迁就着你
我真的没有天份
安静的没这么快
我会学着放弃你
是因为我太爱你

歌曲：借口
歌手：周杰伦专辑：七里香
借口词曲编:周杰伦
http://ssky.cuit.edu.cn/mp3/man/zhoujielun/7li/jiekou.mp3

翻着我们的照片
想念若隐若现
去年的冬天
我们笑得很甜
看着你哭泣的脸
对着我说再见
来不及听见
你已走得很远
也许你已经放弃我
也许已经很难回头
我知道是自己错过
请再给我一个理由
说你不爱我
就算是我不懂
能不能原谅我
请不要把分手当作你的请求
我知道坚持要走
是你受伤的藉口
请你回头
我会陪你一直走到最后
就算没有结果
我也能够承受
我知道你的痛是我给的承诺
你说给过我纵容
沉默是因为包容
如果要走
请你记得我

如果难过
请你忘了我

歌曲：爱很简单
歌手：陶喆专辑：乐之路
http://bbs.hangzhou.com.cn/adv/temp/images/ahjd.mp3

忘了是怎么开始
也许就是对你
有一种感觉
忽然间发现自己
已深深爱上你
真的很简单
爱得地暗天黑都已无所谓
是是非非无法决择
没有后悔为爱日夜去跟随
那个疯狂的人是我
喔......
i love you
无法不爱着你
说你也爱我
i love you
永远不愿意
baby失去你

不可能更快乐
只要能在一起
做什么都可以
虽然世界变个不停
用最真诚的心
让爱变得简单
爱得地暗天黑都已无所谓
是是非非无法决择
没有后悔为爱日夜去跟随
那个疯狂的人是我
喔......
i love you
我一直在这里
一直在爱你
i love you
永远都不放弃
这爱你的权利
如果你还有一些困惑
请贴着我的心
倾听听我说着爱你
yes i do
i love you

歌曲：亲爱的你怎么不在身边
歌手：江美琪
http://wap.wmwap.com/music/gq/MP3/card27/5.mp3

这里的空气很新鲜
这里的小吃很特别
这里的latte 不像水
这里的夜景很有感觉
在一万英尺的天边
在有港口view的房间
在讨价还价的商店
在凌晨喧闹的三四点
可是亲爱的你怎么不在我身边
我们有多少时间能浪
电话再甜美传真再安慰
也不足以应付不能拥抱你的遥远
我的亲爱的你怎么不在我身边
一个人过一天像过一年
海的那一边乌云一整片
我很想为了你快乐一点
可是亲爱的你怎么不在身边

歌曲：爱我的人和我爱的人
歌手：游鸿明专辑：一天一万年
http://www.gyvnet.com/music_new/web/user/usermusic/7792/2005071417301749029.mp3

盼不到我爱的人
我知道我愿意再等
疼不了爱我的人
片刻柔情它骗不了人
我不是无情的人
却将你伤的最深
我不忍我不能
别再认真忘了我的人

离不开我爱的人
我知道爱需要缘分
放不下爱我的人
因为了解他多么认真
为什么最真的心
碰不到最好的人
我不问我不能
拥在怀中直到他变冷

爱我的人为我痴心不悔
我却为我爱的人
甘心一生伤悲
在乎的人始终不对
谁对谁不必虚伪
爱我的人为我付出一切
我却为我爱的人流泪狂乱心碎
爱与被爱同样受罪
为什么不懂拒绝痴情的包围

歌曲：原来
歌手：林俊杰专辑：曹操
词:张思尔林秋离曲:林俊杰
http://210.61.218.1/grm.cdn.hinet.net/xuite/4f/a5/14401992/blog_211170/dv/5208094/5208094.mp3

街灯绊住我眼前
下一步
拉长的影子
嘲弄的回顾
电话亭仍留着你的话
一句话掉一滴泪
今晚的我会是如何入睡
原来最疼痛的表情竟是没有情绪
原来最残忍的画面可以甜言蜜语
我不懂得如何更爱你
影子讽刺地跟着我难分难离
原来最孤单的是我还是那么想你
原来最悲哀的是我不能面对自己
你收的干净
我也会不留一点痕迹

说故事也要像是真的
可是别触动那些回忆
今夜你说了最后一句
一句话掉一滴泪
看来今晚的我很难入睡

盛夏的果实--莫文蔚
http://www.ytta.cn/luzn/whyl/yytd/lx/sxdgs.mp3

也许放弃
才能靠近你
不再见你
你才会把我记起
时间累积
这盛夏的果实
回忆里寂寞的香气
我要试着离开你
不要再想你
虽然这并不是我本意

你曾说过
会永远爱我
也许承诺不过因为没把握
别用沉默再去掩饰什么
当结果是那么赤裸裸
以为你会说什么
才会离开我
你只是转过头不看我
不要刻意说
你还爱我
当看尽潮起潮落
只要你记得我

你曾说过
会永远爱我
也许承诺不过证明没把握
不用难过
不用掩饰什么
当结果是那么赤裸裸
其实不用说什么才能离开我
起码那些经过属于我

也许放弃
才能靠近你
不再见你你才会把我记起
时间累积
这剩下的果实
回忆里爱情的香气
我以为不露痕迹
思念却满溢
或许这代表我的心

如果你会梦见我
请你再抱紧我

歌曲：痴心绝对
歌手：李圣杰专辑：痴心绝对

http://tj.stu.com.cn/music/modern/chixinjuedui.mp3
想用一杯latte把你灌醉

好让你能多爱我一点

暗恋的滋味

你不懂这种感觉

早有人陪的你永远不会

看见你和他在我面前

证明我的爱只是愚昧

你不懂我的那些憔悴

是你永远不曾过的体会

为你付出那种伤心你永远不了解

我又何苦勉强自己爱上你的一切

你又狠狠逼退我的防备

静静关上门来默数我的泪

明知道让你离开他的世界不可能会

我还傻傻等到奇迹出现的那一天

直到那一天你会发现

真正爱你的人独自守着伤悲

曾经我以为我自己会后悔

不想爱的太多痴心绝对

为你落第一滴泪

为你做任何改变

也唤不回你对我的坚决

imlost...
inafairytale

Thursday, April 20, 2006
10:51 AM

~石头和佛的对话~

一、石頭問：我究竟該找個我愛的人做我的妻子呢？還是該找個愛我的人做我的妻子呢？
佛笑了笑：這個問題的答案其實就在你自己的心底。這些年來，能讓你愛得死去活來，能讓你感覺得到生活充實，能讓你挺起胸不斷往前走，是你愛的人呢？還是愛你的人呢？
石頭也笑了：可是朋友們都勸我找個愛我的女孩做我的妻子？
佛說：真要是那樣的話，你的一生就將從此注定碌碌無為！你是習慣在追逐愛情的過程中不斷去完善自己的。你不再去追逐一個自己愛的人，你自我完善的腳步也就停滯下來了。石頭搶過了佛的話：那我要是追到了我愛的人呢？會不會就...
佛說：因為她是你最愛的人，讓她活得幸福和快樂被你
視作是一生中最大的幸福，所以，你還會為了她生活得更加幸福和快樂而不斷努力。幸福和快樂是沒有極限，所以你的努力也將沒有極限，絕不會停止。
石頭說：那我活的豈不是很辛苦？
佛說：這麼多年了，你覺得自己辛苦嗎？石頭搖了搖頭，又笑了。 --------------------------------------------------------------------- 二、石頭問：既然這樣，那麼是不是要善待一下愛我的人呢？
佛搖了搖頭，說：你需要你愛的人善待你嗎？
石頭苦笑了一下：我想我不需要
佛說：說說你的原因
石頭說：我對愛情的要求較為苛刻，那就是我不需要這裏面夾雜著同情夾雜著憐憫，我要求她是發自內心的愛我的，同情憐憫寬容和忍讓雖然也是一種愛，儘管也會給人帶來某種意義上的幸福，但它卻是我深惡痛絕的，如果她對我的愛夾雜著這些，那麼我寧願她不要理睬我，又或者直接拒絕我的愛意，在我還來得及退出來的時候，因為感情是只能越陷越深的，絕望遠比希望來的實在一些，因為絕望的痛是一剎那的，而希望的痛則是無限期的。
佛笑了：很好，你已經說出了答案！ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 三、石頭問：為什麼我以前愛著一個女孩時，她在我眼中是最美麗的？而現在我愛著一個女孩，我卻常常會發現長得比她漂亮的女孩呢？
佛問：你敢肯定你是真的那麼愛她，在這世界上你是愛她最深的人嗎？
石頭毫不猶豫地說：那當然！
佛說：恭喜。你對她的愛是成熟、理智、真誠而深切的。
石頭有些驚觃：哦？
佛又繼續說：她不是這世間最美的，甚至在你那麼愛她的時候，你都清楚地知道這個事實。但你還是那麼地愛著她，因為你愛的不只是她的青春靚麗，要知道韶華易逝，紅顏易老，但你對她的愛戀已經超越了這些表面的東西，也就超越了歲月。你愛的是她整個的人，主要是她的獨一無二的內心。
石頭忍不住說：是的，我的確很愛她的清純善良，疼惜她的孩子氣。
佛笑了笑：時間的任何考驗對你的愛戀來說算不得什麼。 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 四、石頭問：為什麼後來在一起的時候，兩個人反倒沒有了以前的那些激情，更多的是一種相互依賴？
佛說：那是因為你的心裏已經潛移默化中將愛情轉變為了親情…
石頭摸了摸腦袋：親情？
佛繼續說：當愛情到了一定的程度的時候，是會在不知不覺中轉變為親情的，你會逐漸將她看作你生命中的一部分，這樣你就會多了一些寬容和諒解，也只有親情才是你從誕生伊始上天就安排好的，也是你別無選擇的，所以你後來做的，只能是去適應你的親情，無論你出生多麼高貴，你都要不講任何條件的接受他們，並且對他們負責對他們好。
石頭想了想，點頭說道：親情的確是這樣的。
佛笑了笑：愛是因為相互欣賞而開始的，因為心動而相戀，因為互相離不開而結婚，但更重要的一點是需要寬容、諒解、習慣和適應才會攜手一生的。石頭沈默了：原來愛情也是一種宿命。 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 五、石頭問：大學的時候我曾經遇到過一個女孩，那個時候我很愛她，只是她那個時候並不愛我；可是現在她又愛上了我，而我現在又似乎沒有了以前的那種感覺，或者說我似乎已經不愛她了，為什麼會出現這種情況呢？佛問：你能做到讓自己從今以後不再想起她嗎？
石頭沈思了一會：我想我不能，因為這麼多年來我總是有意無意中想起她，又或者同學聚會時談起她的消息，我都有著超乎尋常的關注；接到她的來信或者電話的時候我的心都是莫名的激動和緊張；這麼多年來單身的原因也是因為一直以來都沒有忘記她，又或者我在以她的標準來尋覓著我將來的女朋友；可是我現在又的確不再喜歡她了。
佛發出了長長的歎息：現在的你跟以前的你儘管外表沒有什麼變化，然而你的心卻走過了一個長長的旅程，又或者說你為自己的愛情打上了一個現實和理智的心結。你不喜歡她也只是源於你的這個心結，心結是需要自己來化解的，要知道前世的五百次回眸才換來今生的擦肩而過，人總要有所取捨的，至於怎麼取捨還是要你自己來決定，誰也幫不了你。石頭沒有再說話，只是將目光靜靜的望向遠方，原來佛也不是萬能的… ------------------------------------------------------------------------ 六、石頭問：在這樣的一個時代，這樣的一個社會裏，像我這樣的一個人這樣辛苦地去愛一個人。是否值得呢？
佛說：你自己認為呢？石頭想了想，無言以對。佛也沈默了一陣，終於他又開了口：路既然是自己選擇的，就不能怨天尤人，你只能無怨無悔。石頭長籲了一口氣，石頭知道他懂了，他用堅定的目光看了佛一眼，沒有再說話。

imlost...
inafairytale

1:58 AM

~牵手了就不要随便放手~

你發覺到了嗎？愛的感覺，總是在一開始感覺很甜蜜，總覺得多一個人陪，多一個人幫你分擔，你終於不再孤單了，至少有一個人想著你、戀著你，不論做什麼事情，只要能在一起，就是好的。但是慢慢的，隨著彼此的認識愈深，你開始發現了對方的缺點，於是問題一個接著一個發生，你開始煩、累，甚至想要逃避，有人說愛情就像在撿石頭，總想撿到一個適合自己的，但是你又如何知道什麼時候能夠撿到呢？他適合你，那你又適合他嗎？其實，愛情就像磨石子一樣，或許剛撿到的時候，你不是那麼的滿意，但是記住人是有彈性的，很多事情是可以改變的，只要你有心、有勇氣，與其到處去撿未知的石頭，還不如好好的將自己已經擁有的石頭磨亮，不是嗎？很多人以為是因為感情淡了，所以人才會變得懶惰。錯！其實是人先被惰性征服，所以感情才會變淡的。難怪越來越多人只想要談一輩子的戀愛，卻遲遲不肯走入婚姻。因為，婚姻容易讓人變得懶惰。如果每個人都懶得講話、懶得傾聽、懶得制造驚喜、懶得溫柔體貼，那麼夫妻或是情人之間，又怎麼會不漸行漸遠漸無聲呢？所以請記住：有活力的愛情，是需要適度殷勤灌溉的，談戀愛，更是不可以偷懶的喔！其實愛、恨往往只是在我們的一念之間！愛不僅要懂得寬容更要及時，很多事可能只是在於你心境的轉變罷了！懂了嗎？當有個人愛上你，而你也覺得他不錯。那並不代表你會選擇他。我們總說：「我要找一個自己很愛很愛的人，才會談戀愛。」但是當對方問你，怎樣才算是很愛很的時候，你卻無法回答他，因為你自己也不知道。我們總是以為，我們會找到一個自己很愛很愛的人。可是後來，當我們猛然回首，我們才發覺自己曾經多麼天真。假如從來沒有開始，你怎麼知道自己會不會很愛很愛那個人呢？其實，很愛很愛的感覺，是要在一起經歷了許多事情之後才會發現的。或許每個人都希望能夠找到自己心目中百分之百的伴侶，但是你有沒有想過『在你身邊會不會早已經有人默默對你付出很久了，只是你沒發覺而已呢？』所以，還是仔細看著身邊的人吧！他或許已經等你很久嘍！當你愛一個人的時候，愛到八分絕對剛剛好。所有的期待和希望都只有七八分；剩下兩三分用來愛自己。如果你還繼續愛得更多，很可能會給對方沉重的壓力，讓彼此喘不過氣來，完全喪失了愛情的樂趣。所以，喝酒不要超過六分醉，吃飯不要超過七分飽，愛一個人不要超過八分（这个不是我说的，不记得是谁说的了）如果你也正在為愛迷惘，或許下面這段話可以給你一些啟示：愛一個人，要了解，也要開解；要道歉，也要道謝；要認錯，也要改錯；要體貼，也要體諒；是接受，而不是忍受；是寬容，而不是縱容；是支持，而不是支配；是慰問，而不是質問；是傾訴，而不是控拆；是難忘，而不是遺忘；不论你在什么时候开始,重要的是开始之后就不要停止.

imlost...
inafairytale

Monday, April 17, 2006
7:04 PM

~Getting the L word out by Jill Alphonso~

Growing up, i never knew that saying "I love you" to someone could become a deal-breaker in a relationship. I should have, though.
My family, while big on respect, does not toss the phrase around freely. Which is not to say that we never said it.
When we did, it was with tenderness and care. It's just that it wasn't bandied around a lot.
That seems to have carried over into my adult life to a large degree.
One boyfriend told me (rather meanly, I thought) that he had uttered those three little words simply because he thought I longed to hear them. I was offended - did he think I was so desperate for love?
It became the reason we broke up eventually. I said those words because I felt it. He, the Ex, seemed to feel it but wasn't ready to say it.
"I don't know if I love you," he wrote in a note to me. "But I'm sure havng fun finding out."
Perhaps if I'd respected that and waited, we would still be together, but I didn't because with him, it just wasn't enough at the time and I wanted to believe that he was that someone who would give generously when it comes to love. But, no blame or shame as I say this now, he just wasn't Mr Right.
When we broke up, he admitted he had been in love with me the whole time. We've talked since then, and each time, it's always about those "what if" scenarios or those "in another time, if I had been in a different space" kind of talk.
The Boyfriend now is an altogether different animal. With him, I feel completely loved. i feel this wierd, comforting warmth, as if I am being cocooned in some place safe.
I feel it when we are lying on the couch doing nothing, running errands, or when he touches my face or my hair.
And the funny thing is, we've never really said it. Well, not in the Hollywood "holding your hand while staring deep into your eyes" kind of way. but intangibly, undeniably, I feel it all the time, even when we are having arguments.
let me recount one drunken incident - mine, not his. We were at a party and I'd hit the bottle a little too hard.
i found myself dehydrated and woozy, barely able to stand straight. i requested that he call a cab for me and walk me down. Walking, apparently, was too much for my rubbery legs on my very high heels. My muscles had turned to Jell-o and i had to sit down three times before getting to the road for the cab. Then, inexplicably, I sat down and refused to move.
Imperiously, I demanded that he return to the party, and that I would be fine on my own.
He yelled at me and said how I should not have come at all. Still yelling, he concluded his charming speech peppered with swear words with: "Baby, i'm going to take care of you but I'm really annoyed at you." More swearing followed.
i sobered up at the tone in his voice, and something in me stirred. I should be angry, i thought. Livid even. I was being verbally abused simply for having a good time, but I heard the subtle tender nuances even under all the rage. He was taking care of me because it was the right thing thing to do, but also because he loved me.
We have since said the three words once or twice and it has been a comedy of errors.
I gave him a card saying "I love men" on the front, but on the inside, I wrote, "But don't worry, baby, I love you more." He sighed indulgently and proceeded to make the card the butt of several jokes among friends.
I then said it - caution be damned - on a night before I went to sleep. He told me that he didn't yet, but that he cared about me. He explained that it usually take him years to say it.
I sulked for a day before deciding that he had the right to take all the time he wanted to get the words out.
I wasn't afraid that he was going anywhere though I'm paranoid that the important men in my life will eventually leave me. It's a paranoia fed by ex-boyfriends who were besotted with me then dropped me when they got either bored, or scared, or were just being plain stupid.
The first time it came out of his mouth, it was several months later while he was on a business trip and we were talking on the phone.
"I love you," he said in a soft murmur, sounding unsure, hesitant.
Distracted by an episode of The O.C. where Ryan and Marissa were performing their break-up-but-still-together routine, I didn't pay atention.
"Uh-huh, okay, so talk to you soon," I chirped before hanging up. I only realised after I put down the phone. Drat.
the next time, he was still away and I said it over a gale of static and poor phone reception. Darn.
The next, he told me how drunk he was before carrying on a very lucid conversation and then saying it quickly before we hung up. I'm not sure how seriously I can take that one but you know what they say in Latin : in vino veritas (there's truth in wine).
But what matters, I know is not so much the saying of it, though it is nice to hear an emotional abstract articulated and defined in concrete words. but I also know that what counts is the faith I have in his feelings, and in my own.
I have a wierd philosophy that people are at their truest when asleep. Well, in relationships, anyway.
In a particularly bad, in-between-boyfriends period, I realised I was sleeping with my hand over my heart, as though to protect it.
The Ex used to wrap himself around me and a strange narcoleptic and drugged sleep would immediately come over me. I would rationalise later that it was kind of like taking a sleeping pill to numb out the heartaches.
With the Boyfriend, however, things are again different. i feel warmed and relaxed. Time stretches, and I usually drift off into a contented slumber.
For that moment, I can almost feel the L word in all its splendor. And I now recognise when that moment stretches on into the day, which is happening more and often these days.
That's why although it's nice to hear him say "I love you", I don't feel he always has to say it.
That's why, despite our mishaps with the phrase, I know that one day, we'll get it right. And when we do say it right, I'm confident that it won't be the last time.

imlost...
inafairytale

Sunday, April 16, 2006
3:43 PM

~Swan~

There was a girl who loved a glass swan which she found beside a lake.
She treasured it so much that she brought it everywhere she went.
One day it fell out of her pocket and it shattered to pieces on the hard ground.
She was devastated and she used her bare hands to pick up the tiny pieces of glass.
With blood flowing down her hands, she painstakingly tried to fit the pieces together to form the swan which she had a photograph of it in her mind.
She did not feel pain as each shard of glass pierced through her fingers.
It took her hours but she managed to get the swan back into its form however it was no longer the same beautiful flawless swan.
It was full of cracks yet she loved it more with all her heart.

imlost...
inafairytale

Saturday, April 15, 2006
2:34 PM

~I stopped living the moment you said goodbye~

I know how hard it is to mask your feelings. I'm reluctant but I have to do it. My life is not going to be happier just because you think it will be so. It'll appear to be happier just because I'll create a facade for everyone to see. I just want to apologise to most of my friends in advance because I no longer want to hold on to you for support anymore. I'm sorry. Please let me walk alone in this journey because I'm sick of the old whiny and pathetic me.

I don't want to burst into tears just because I'm trying so hard to suppress what I'm really feeling and someone exposes me as a fraud. At least let me preserve that little shred of dignity I've in appearing to be strong. I'm not good at pretences. Just give me a break from everyone and everything. Don't worry that I'll do something drastic. I won't. I'm already dead emotionally and spiritually though my physical body functions as if I'm still living. I don't want to talk about anything that's going on in my life anymore to anyone. If i reject your concern, it's nothing personal. I just choose to be alone. I don't know how long i can continue to behave as if everything is normal in front of the people who live with me and are closest and dearest to me. Just don't point out how futile my attempts are to conceal what I'm feeling inside. I'll feel better blocking everyone out through this wall I've built between myself and the rest of the world. I still love everyone who knows me. I'm sorry for my selfishness because it's painful and hard to try and understand and feel what everyone is feeling all the time. The emotional scars hurt every time the wounds are forced open whenever you empathise with people. You never know how difficult it is because you are not me.

I hate myself for being vulnerable. I always do. I don't know what love is anymore. Don't tell me things which will give me false hope as I won't believe anyone anymore. I'm tired of clinging on to false beliefs and lies which lift my spirits up for a while and then bring me crashing down to the horrid truth and reality. This feels worse than telling you outright the truth. Don't tell me that I mean anything to you because it doesn't matter anymore to me. I don't deserve any sympathy and love from anyone be it from family, friends or lover. I hate my very existence which holds no purpose or meaning and yet I'm forced to keep on living. All I wish for is just that time will pass quickly so my death is accelerated. that's the only thing I ask for. I hate that never ceasing pain in my heart..

imlost...
inafairytale

1:10 AM

~Sorry seems to be the hardest word~

What have I got to do to make you love me
What have I got to do to make you care
What do I do when lightning strikes me
And I wake to find that you're not there

What do I do to make you want me
What have I got to do to be heard
What do I say when it's all over
And sorry seems to be the hardest word

It's sad, so sad
It's a sad, sad situation
And it's getting more and more absurd
It's sad, so sad
Why can't we talk it over
Oh it seems to me
That sorry seems to be the hardest word

What do I do to make you love me
What have I got to do to be heard
What do I do when lightning strikes me
What have I got to do
What have I got to do
When sorry seems to be the hardest word

I learnt something today. That feelings are nothing but fleeting transient emotions which are meaningless. Feelings never last no matter how intense they may be. They are just something to remind you of your very existence on earth.

Please don't blame yourself anymore. All I've brought is agony and pain to you. I'm sorry for what I've done in the past. You are always perfect in my eyes and everything that has happened is of all my doing. I just know that no matter what I do or how hard I try things will go wrong anyway. I won't do anything foolish. All I know is that the person you'll see in the future will not be who you see in the present any longer. Someone who'll no longer let others worry for her. A person who will be stronger and face reality in the eye rather than living in her own deluded fantasy world. She'll stop believing and indulging in fairy tales which have no value or purpose in her life. She'll disregard things in her life which won't work out or have a good ending.

I recall some Chinese lyrics which if loosely translated it means why is it when we are together you crave for freedom? Is my love for you too overbearing that you wanna break free and be alone?

If I had the time
I’ll spend it with you
Time gets you old and weary
Like a lifeless ordinary
Some burn out while some fade away
I don’t want you to go
I want you to stay

If I could turn back the time
I’d spend it with you
I want you to know
Even though you’re gone
That I’m drowning in tears
I wish you were here
And hear me say
Believe me, I’m sorry
Feels like everything’s undone
Peace of mind still I haven’t found
And time will heal those broken mends
I know it will come, but when will it end

Don't tell me that it's not worth it to do the things I do. If i have a chance to choose whether to love you all over again, I'll still love you even if it's painful and hard to bear.

I won't let anyone else into my heart anymore. I know I shouldn't keep living in the memories of the past when the present and the future is the one that truly matters. The memories are what drives me to stay alive. But if I'm happier living a lie... let it be...

imlost...
inafairytale