This property. is condemned

There will be no further posting indefinitely...  bye everyone..
~cina, 6.06pm

• 1,270 Plays

“We’ve Got Tonight” by Bob Seger
I know it's late, I know you're weary 
I know your plans don't include me 
Still here we are, both of us lonely 
Longing for shelter from all that we see 
Why should we worry, no one will care 
Look at the stars so far away 
We've got tonight 
Who needs tomorrow? 
We've got tonight 
Why don't you stay? 

Deep in my soul, I've been so lonely 
All of my hopes, fading away 
I've longed for love, like everyone else does 
I know I'll keep searching, even after today 
So there it is girl, I've said it all nowAnd here we are babe, what do you say?We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?We've got tonight babeWhy don't you stay?
I know it's late, I know you're wearyI know your plans don't include meStill here we are, both of us lonelyBoth of us lonely
We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow?Let's make it last, let's find a wayTurn out the light, come take my hand nowWe've got tonight babeWhy don't you stay?

Fly me. to the moon

"What a fabulous moment,
to realize that no word or thought
can truly describe you."

♫ ♪ If I die young ~ The Band Perry  ♫ ♪
"If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a, bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh well
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I've had just enough time"

Maybe it's because it's middle of May and some where in the world, Spring is coming to an end. Maybe it's because another year of my life is gone. Maybe it is just my idealised and over romanticised thoughts lurking in my head.

You think you're youthful and you think you're still a child and then one day you realize you're an adult, and you feel a pang of nostalgia as you see people living their younger and carefree days. When was the day it ended? When did we get too old to play hide-and-seek? When did we stop hanging out in the park as the sun came down in our favourite pajamas? When did it end? When did we get older? When did we grow up?

You do something and you get that look which says "that is so childish" or "we're not kids any more" and it makes you feel foolish. You acted in a way
that isn't appropriate any more, unbecoming of your age. The day came when flicking a paper aeroplane at someone's head just became darn stupid. When you're young, you're it. Remember the things you want to set fire to and the speed at which you ran down the hill screaming your head off? It ended, and you don't even remember when it happened. When did I grow up?

What is it that I have lost? And when and how and what for? And what
about the void that is left? Can it be filled, or fixed or patched or ignored?
And how is it that this nothing can mean everything?

I have written so many words. I've lifted the roofs over a hundred childhoods that I've spent playing with my shadows. What lurks inside my mind, this grey matter pitted like the moon? What if I unfold every thought and separate them out like sheets to make my bed and when I lay down to sleep would everything be in order, be straightened out, be soft enough to allow me to sleep, to dream sweet?


~cina

As tears. go by

“You could love somebody more than anything and still not love the person all that much, if you were busy with other things."

♫ ♪ Mother ~ John Lennon ♫ ♪

Do you remember that age when anything was possible? Like the shapes you find in clouds, the future was far enough away that it could be anything you wished. We took chances. We won and we lost. Like the things that made us who we are. Like we regret saying this or not saying that, doing this or not doing that. Sometimes I wonder how the world still turns under the weight of things we should have done or the things we definitely should not have done. And there is a point at the start of things where suddenly they have the potential to become bigger things. This point is exquisitely exciting. And then you draw a line and something that could have been something is nothing again. 

Sometimes things happen and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes you have to choose to do nothing about something. This is mostly because doing something about something is hard and you know there is a big chance that it will lead to nothing. So by doing nothing about something, something stays nothing. The irony of this is that this is also hard. Maybe even harder than doing something about something. And in these sentences I am really thinking in many ways about life but also actually just being quite literal. In case you were wondering. I know you know what I’m talking about.

I’ve been spending a lot of time in my own head. But the stillness of the house bring things into focus. I came across this interesting article titled Non Cogito Ergo Sum and I had no idea what it means so naturally I had to look it up and Cogito Ergo Sum is Latin for I think, therefore I am. If you have the time to read this article , it is about the art of unthinking.

I wonder what if I am the type of people for whom the world is never new. The type that has seen it all from their spot in the sun. A life of still and quiet. It's like you can always count on the day to break and the night to fall. 

A good day always begins with breakfast. Which brings me to scones. Plain, simple scones. White flour, white sugar, butter scones. These scones have no whole grains, no spice, no fruit, no nut, save delicious. They are tender, flaky, buttery. Unassuming, excellent, crisp-where-it-counts scones. But really, they are just simple scones.  And simple is very, very good.

Every so often, I get a pang of homesickness for home where my mother still lives. It’s like a hole in the pit of my stomach that can’t be filled, a dull ache behind the ears. I have not seen my mother in a while. My mother's about the only oldest family history I have. She seldom speaks about her own parents or her life before she married my father though. 

I never knew my father’s side of the family except for the fact that my father came from Hainan Island, China. As far back as 50 years ago apparently my father would send letters back to his family, maybe once every 6 months. My father loved to hang out at the Hainanese Association and he would sought assistance from his kinsfolk there to draft his letters because he couldn't write very well. He would lament that his relatives are fond of asking for and about money, television or bicycle whenever he heard from them but he would help as much as he could afford to. It is a pity that we have lost contact with his family there.

I have high anticipation for this forthcoming epic Prometheus, by one of my favourite directors, Ridley Scott. This is Hollywood's latest attempt to satisfy our curiosity and desire about our origins. The story is about a team of explorers who discovered a clue to the origins of mankind on Earth, leading them on a journey to the darkest corners of the universe. The trailer is already giving me goosebumps.

It is always nice to know that wherever you go there will be people who are happy to see you and the place you leave there will be people who miss you. It also means that you will never have all of the people you love in one place at the same time and that there will always be people missing in your life. There is no right choice. Why is it that the things you want to affect the most are those that are completely out of your control? But all you need to remember is this; no matter how busy a person's day might be, if they really care, they will always find time for you.


~cina