唯一守恒的东西，竟然是文字其本身，而非其所要表达之意义，抑或是文字字面意义？隐意？显意？抑或其它？也莫是无不可能？甚至连通过文字所表达的思想，都是随意无端、时刻变换的？
还好能做到的就是他，或者我，或者Cassiopeium，在这一刻写下了东西，保证他贴在博客上。
第二天起来或许会对这些东西大发雷霆，绝无法忍耐它的虚伪
但什么是虚伪的，什么是真实的感受，已彻底失去定义。
所能做的就是写，写，写，直到自己彻底精疲力竭。
妈的，我怕了，我真的怕了
告诉我什么叫Bipolarity。
我怕就怕在自己说自己Bipolar，结果成为self-fulfiling prophecy，就好像3年前我坐在亚城那所高中破败的trailer教室里，在纸上半开玩笑地写下：
“20年后，Cassiopeium将会已经在魁北克居住了很多年（这是未来完成时，我注），在迷失很久后回到了自己出生的那片土地。”
Cassiopeium不知道什么叫Bipolar，他开玩笑说自己Bipolar因为他相信自己不是。他如果真的是Bipolar那他一定不会知道，因为不论有多少个自我，在写作的那一刻，所写的每篇文字，都仅仅代表了一个自我。
但假若他真是？
为什么他不是？或许他就是? 他若是会怎样？不是又怎样？
OK,如果你读过他写下的，Cassiopeium写下的，或他借Cassiopeium之名写下的东西。
你会发现，这个博客最荒谬的地方，就是很多文章所表达的情感、思想都是相排斥的。
比如今天一片文章中他满怀壮志豪情地冲动地宣言自己的未来将会不平凡。
另一天你又发现一篇，情绪低落之极，沉溺于感伤于怀旧之中无法自拔。
这他妈的说明了什么？
这是不是问题？不是问题？别告诉Cassiopeium这不是问题，这绝对是问题。
如果人的思想在短期内如此不一致，怎么能不是问题呢？
OK，你他妈能不能不要用第三人称称呼自己？
等等，第三人称？
我？他？
那写东西的这个是谁？打字的是谁？刚才还和同学在网上聊天是缅怀童年快乐的是谁？决定好好学习考法学院的是谁？认为人生没有意义，要混日子的是谁？想要出人头地，对得起自己父母的，又是谁？孤独到几点，一个人躲在角落里需要companion的是谁？为欲望所操纵的是谁？为情感所控制的是谁？彻底麻木的是谁？沮丧的是谁？语无伦次的是谁？歇斯底里的是谁？泪流满面的是谁？
是不是真的所谓的人格分裂就是很严重的那种彻底自己不认识自己的境地？
还是说，会在不同时间有两种完全不同的心态？
如果真是那样，Cassiopeium就是Bipolar的。
有时候Cassiopeium听到人抱怨生活对自己不公平。就有种冲上去抓住他或她领口的冲动。
“你抱怨什么，你对生活不满什么？这都是你自己的选择造成的。你选择了失败，选择了平庸，选择了在改为自己命运奋斗的时候去放弃，去荒废，去玩乐。现在你在这里怨天尤人？”
“哦或许你生来就是注定要失败的。如果你付出了一切努力后结果仍未改变，那或许不是你的错，或许你尝试的方法不对，或许命中注定如此。但你那时不会抱怨，因为真正努力尝试过又最终失败的人，会从容地接受，或在绝望中消亡。”
他冷静下来了
Cassiopeium，他对Cassiopeium说。
你不能这么冲动，人还是要做的好不好，人要做就做正常的人，别让人家看扁。
去他妈的别人，like I give a fuck.
你拜托能不能说中文
I’m speaking English,not Chinese
我还想说法语呢，不会啊
那你还不好好学？每天连半个小时的功夫都不花？即使你过目不忘又怎样？何况你还不是？
I have a good memory, but that only works when I remember faces, words, pictures, lights, darknesses, laughters, tears, anguishes, despairs, hopes, passions, and MEMORIES.
但你自己也承认了，记忆是不可靠的。
then what is reliable? TIME ? SPACE? YOUR FUKING PHILOSOPHY? PATHETIC SCIENCE?
What I fail to remember over and over is.
FAILURE
我现在就想睡觉，你别烦我，别问我这么多问题好不好
那你的学习怎么办？
你是不是相信存在主义？
我不是存在主义者啊，但我就是这样，我就是我
但你活的这个生活，你生活的方式，你生活的态度，你生活的习惯，难道不在诠释存在主义？
我怎么了？
Cassiopeium怎么了？
他？谁？拜托你说话能不能一个调调？
这里只有你和他？
我是谁？Cassiopeium？还是我？
他又是谁？
这个问题太深奥了，怎么能问我呢。
如果我知道的话，我的生活就充满快乐了。
Camus不是说吗，快乐和荒谬是一起的
去他妈的加缪好不好，什么是快乐？什么叫荒谬？
你看你不能用相对主义来看待事物，这样极度地愤世嫉俗且不能带给问题实际解决办法。
Cassiopeium有时候沮丧，有时候愤世嫉俗。
你确定那时Cassiopeium，那他又是怎样的一个人？
我彻底迷茫了拜托，我需要帮助啊。
不行啊，存在主义说了，只有你自己能改变。
改变吧。
改变吧。
给个理由先？
嗯，刚才我看过了Cassiopeium很久之前写下的THe Daily COnfession with Cassiopeium系列
都是些装B的无病呻吟文字。啥是病？精神病算不算病？那算的话，还算不算无病呻吟？无病究竟能不能呻吟？
看着看着他/Cassiopeium哭了
我哭了？我没哭啊，你别装矫情了。
OK，if I want , I could cry at any time
但是哭有什么意义呢？难道你要告诉我哭还要动机吗?
没有动机还要哭？不哭就有动机了？
那你帖出来，读一读，
英文还不错啊，语法错误可以容忍。
你哭不哭？
不哭？
你会否歇斯底里？
不知道。
其实他以前写过很多，在一个叫Xanga的东西上，后来Xanga被关闭了。
他怎么开始用Xanga的，他都忘记了
他只记得通过Xanga，（也或许是通过她知道Xanga）他认识了一个女孩。
雪扬，她说她自己不配这个美丽的名字，这不是她的本名。
所以我叫她Lo
我问她，你是不是我的/Cassiopeium的Soul Mate?
她说怎么，想嫁给我？
我说还是开房直接。
她说了啥，我忘了。
她是否存在？她存在或不存在的可能，与Cassiopeium存在或不存在的可能，完全是一样的。
她对你来说，只是一堆屏幕上的文字而已，再说白了，就是很多二进制的字节。
但她是镜中的自己，他/Cassiopeium曾经说了
拜托，到底谁说的啊？
我真的不知道，不知道，不知道！！
帖出来吧，帖出来就知道了
Don’t u fuking dare to read my Xanga..
His Xanga? No my Xanga?
Cassiopeium的Xanga,Kassiopeium，Lutetia，小说中他叫Luke
真名是真名？什么？不知道了。
搞什么飞机啊搞？意识流？
Wut the fcuk is Streams of Consciousness? what the fuk do you know about it?
how do u define it? who was the first ? who’s gonna be the last?
or DID it ever exist at all? are they all the same?
OK,那就不叫意识流。我错了
Look, I’m just trying to create a conversation here, alright? no bullshit, no tears.
我他妈才不跟你谈呢。
我帖。
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium [1]
卡西欧皮耶母的每日忏悔录
以后XANGA就专门用来忏悔，做自我检讨用。
今天贴一篇在这里。
在大学申请全军覆没之前的一些忏悔。
忏悔有用吗？自己也不行动上配合。或许吧，总比自己一个人闷着继续犯错好。天主教的一有过错就去找神父，无论下回是否再犯错，反正要求原谅了，至少心理上就爽多了。
最好的结果：ED 被康奈尔录取，后半年快乐地生活。
最差的结果：McGill都给据了，不知何去何从。。。或许回国当一年民工
最不可能的结果：康奈尔被据之后发奋，最终进入U Penn，或Northwestern，或Chicago，etc.
最可能的结果： 打铺盖卷回国，明年这时候在蒙特利尔的某处等开学。
如果最差的结果发生了，自己后悔不后悔？不后悔，从来不后悔。从前还经常后悔，现在彻底不后悔了，因为后悔一点用没有。如果从新来过，要不要选择一个新的开始？不，绝不。人一辈子就是一场赌博，不知道结果才有乐趣，下了注就不能收回所以深刻。或许是转折，不是没吃过大的教训吗，这次给你来个大的教训。自己心高气傲，看不见在自己之上的，更懒得去看自己之下的。从前老是比不如自己的，然后沾沾自喜，我老子说那样不可以，想想也对，于是从此不和别人比了。现在上了CUUS，对就要多更这些人接触。一看才知道，哇，哦，原来中国最优秀的同龄人是这样那样的。的确遥不可及的感觉，但又觉得不过如此。差距这玩艺儿，不奋起直追只能越来越大，追上去了，翻过这座山头一看，嘿，赶上来了啊。
我原来还有点儿忧患意识，现在歇菜玩完了，彻底不在乎了，太可怕了，自己活的是潇洒，啥都可以置身事外了？
等自己哭穷的时候就不这样了。一个完全理想主义的人，明白道理就是不做的，语言上的巨人行动上的矮子。
大学是啥？对自己前18年活成啥样的一个总结，有些人活的很好，最后大学不理想，但没关系，大学就是一道门坎而已。我这样的，本来就不该去啥名牌，所以就死心踏地地从头再来吧。
这道理我也很清楚，但我同样向往名校。虚荣？也罢，是人都要虚荣，我不准备往耶稣的方向努力。可能上完大学才明白了，自己谁都不是，上的学校啥都不算。其实未来掌握在自己手中，真的，如果明天不是被雷劈倒的树压死，被陨石砸死得话，真的可以往自己渴望的那个方向努力。结果就不好说了，成事在天啊。
看看，又来大道理了。从小事做起，今天看了多少页书，做了几套题，背了几个单词？嗯，没背，偷懒了是吧。
还俩月了，兄弟，俩月啊。
我还说了，没事，我决定去美丽的魁北克体验生活，学习浪漫的法语。那UPENN录了我去不去？废话，当然去。所以这个加拿大的幌子说白了给自己一个借口。从此绝对不能再说了，再说我就变虚伪了。
对，自己要和至少在一方面比我出色的人交往，但这样的人恐怕太多了，那就范围小一点，要和学习比我好的，去了牛校的交往，这就对了。且不说人家鸟不鸟我这种无所事事的人，至少从人家身上找差距。啥差距？EQ的差距。
说白了，上大学给谁上的，努力为了谁啊？父母在乎吗？父母也不能在乎自己一辈子。其他人在乎吗？亲戚朋友？指望着你成功那是沾光，看你失败那是看笑话。
哥们哎，努力吧，自己不能对不起自己。
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium [II]
Now it may seem a bit too late for any attempt to adjust.
Seriously, need to find a way out of this.
First I thought that I’m not even trying to do any work simply because I cannot cope with the heavy workload. Then I realized, hell, it’s not that I am unable to face the pressure, but because I’m way too depressed to do anything.
As I read more about Depression, the fear of being depressed is growing. However depressed I am, I would still try in vain to deny the fact that I’m a depressed, lonely person.Sheer Human nature.
Therefore I thought of the causation, and I soon realized that I’ve been lonesome not since I came here, not since 4 years ago, but almost all my life.
That very thought scared me.
Then my thoughts went hysterical, I began to question the sincerity of my friendship with others, I began to, once again, wonder about the necessity of existence, of any attempt to break the status quo.
Yes, success tastes sweet, as sweet as anything you could ever have tasted.
Yet nothing is meanningful if you don’t consider it to be so.
And there’s the conflict between Idealism and Practicality, between Dreams and Reality, between Past and Future, between…
OK, that’s not even the point, way tangent again.
The point being, I’m not in the mood for anything school related.
Should I really just take a break, perhaps
going to Tibet, holyland;
going to the great Grassland of my homeland, dreamland;
going to Lake Qinghai, breathe the salty wind;
going to Hangzhou, West Lake, paradise on Earth.
IF there’s any place where tranquility could be found, there I will be.
WHO would I like to go with? I asked myself, the answer was salient without hesitation—-by myself.
That’s with the premise of being uncaring, certainly not an easy task.
Anti-social, Anti-intellectual, Misanthrope??
I hereby confess, with such inapt remark, that I am unable to become “successful,”
as it is defined by the majority.
A story tells this moral:
Remember 6 words for you lifetime. The first three are “Do Not Fear,” for the early half of your life; the last three are ” Do Not Regret,” for the late stage of your life.
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium [III] : On Happiness
On Happiness
When you have once seen the glow of happiness on the face of a beloved person, you know that a man can have no vocation but to awaken that light on the faces surrounding him; and you are torn by the thought of the unhappiness and night you cast, by the mere fact of living, in the hearts you encounter.
–Albert Camus
Regarding a story told recently by mother:
One well-off Chinese family with two lovely children. The husband excels with the occupation of a lawyer and the wife an accountant. Their luxurious mansion locates in the wealthy community of the town, their living standards unimaginable to most of fellow Chinese people, who have strived to find prosperity after years of struggling in a foreign land.
Yet, while such life–which most people have only seen in their dreams–is no more than mere bagatelle to the family, they are by no means a happy household.
The husband, like most men, at middle-age, sought for something more exciting than an everyday life with his family, ended up having affairs after his one-month-visit back to homeland China. The tie of years of marriage, with its sanctity long gone, was but fragile facing what seems to be an imprudent decision.
The wife wept for her failed mirage. Still sitting in the empty edifice and staring at her children, the light gleaming from their innocent only makes her feel more sullen. She sighs, looking around at the finely furnished room, not knowing what to do.
Material possessions does not make you happier,
nor does “Success”
Attitude does
枫叶千枝复万枝，
江桥掩映暮帆迟。
忆君心似西江水，
日夜东流无歇时。
–鱼玄机 《江陵愁望寄子安》
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium [IV]
Do you not see, that the chance is slipping away, that you are falling into this endless repetition of degrading life, that things only get worse as time elapses.
You are holding on to this pole of hope, and you try so hard to keep yourself from falling into the deep pit, a realm of uncertainy, of misery. But you can feel it, your hand is getting slipery, and you are losing grip, slowly but continuously.
Fear takes over, you make a few attempt to pull yourself back up, but it does not work so well.
Character is destiny, Character seems to be destined.
But it is not irrevocable, not inevitable.
You either change it, or you are manipulated by it. Played like a puppet.
Live to excel, or live to be ordinary.
Be ignorant yet happy? if it’t what it takes to be happy, shall you succumb to it?
Knowing what I want, what do I really want?
Do I even know that?
No, not now, perhaps not even later.
What makes me so miserable?
something inside of me, that’s for sure.
But what is it, that makes me not content with this pathetic life I’m living.
Ambition.
What I want for my future, I do not know.
But my ambition does.
This is something that I believed that will make me different. So good to realize it, once again.
Let my ambition tell me.
I’m 18, I have such great ambition, yes.
I wanna be a skilled writer, polyglot.
I wanna be an educated person, well-mannered man.
Expertise in the filed of Liberal Arts: history , philosophy, literature.
The essence of human civilization.
Well acquainted with the past and present.
and most important of all.
Live to be a happy person!!!
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium [V]
Wrong mindset; Wrong way of thinking.
Leisure is the soil that breeds sloth.
Only, only when existence is threatened, attempts will be done to save oneself from destruction?
How could I spend hours reading abstruse articles on ancient Chinese history, but not being able to study simple introductory level Physics for an mere hour?
Is history really something that I’d like to devote the rest of my life on?
Especially the history of China, the most complicated, intriguing, profound, fascinating; also the nastiest, bloodiest, and heaviest of all human histories?
Such decision is certainly not plausible and convincing. To study history is only the most practical, if not the best, approach for me to receive education based on the system of Liberal Arts.
Without realizing how difficult such study could be, I am already determined to devote my future college years into it?
Thing seems to be a little troublesome nowadays, as it is apparent that I have lived a life in two worlds–a world of attempting to adapt, and a world of trying to isolate; A world of my past, and a world of my present; A world of passion, and a world of decadence…
Perhaps it won’t be long till I start seeing Delusions.
I’ve been letting my own imagination running too wild.
There shall be no savior. Salvation lies within my own free will.
——————————
Do you find my words a little poignant? Extremely Irrational? With Unbearable Absurdity? Or merely simple ignorant?
No, Cassiopeium, find it appealing and appalling to you.
For what the Ambition cannot withstand is,
some kind of talent, though certainly not unprecedented prodigy, being wasted
Wasted!
Letting your own time flowing pass you, standing at the same spot, stark hypnotized, not knowing what to do and where to be, not sensing the danger of being inundated soon.
One step, the world shall revolve around you.
Think not of the path not taken, think of the path already taken.
Lift your feet. A whole new world is ahead of you.
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium [VI]
It is strongly recommended that the topics of philosophy be no longer discussed.
It is needless to mention my poor basic understanding of the term “philosophy,” or its necessity of existence.
Those undying names: Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Hegel, Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Sartre, Camus; or of my own ethnicity, Confucius, Laozi, Zhuangzi, Hanfeizi, all those who have lighten the era with his own intelligence. Humanity gleamed through their words, and what was once ephemeral became eternal.
What is the meaningfulness of discussing philosophy, after all?
Very much like the fact that I am confessing, to whom-might-exist, not for the sake of confession, nor for anything purely behavior-initiated. What is it for then?
Trying to practice my English, maybe…
Why so and so? So and so only but not also?
In the night he cries, he reminisces, of love and hatred, of remembrance and oblivion, of everything, with much passion and sympathy words are spelt out of his mouth. He gets tired, and he lies down; he is asleep, everything shall move on the way it used to be; as the night gets deeper, the words are lost into darkness, as if never been said.
He is as uncertain of his future as he is of his past. Perhaps, he thought, twenty years later, when everything is no longer like what it is now, it’s when I’ll start reminiscing again, and they‘ll all be evermore beautiful. Flowers wilt, memories wilt not.
But he finds himself incompetent of keeping track of his own memory. The words said before have grown overwhelmingly heavy, so heavy they press down onto his chest, almost suffocating him whenever his retrospect falls short.
The endurance of the body is reaching its limit; he could hear the body warns him from inside. And passion, what he thought of as the only thing he‘d have let if everything else’s been taken from him, is now dwindling. In a panic he picks up a pen and scrambles on the paper, trying to record every moment elapsing from him. Soon he finds such effort fruitless. All his attempts to save the transience are in vain.
He puts down the pen and raised his head, staring at the sky and not saying a word. Perhaps it is best like this. He is so weary now; he needs to halt his mind from thinking.
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium [VII -Clare Version]
Ten About Celebrities/Singers/Athletes/Everyone else that’s slightly famous:
1.I think most actresses/actors are really hot, but they pretty much look the same to me…
2. I’m bothered by the fact that most celebrities are uneducated
3. I prefer Sport stars over singers/actors
4. I think celebrities are quite pathetic, lots of them appear in public so gloriously, but in fact they are all fxxked up w/ their lives
5. Fame is not a good thing
6. I’d never wanna use my appearance to make a living, that’s just pathetic
7. Some ppl pursue fame, but it’s actually $$ they are pursuing
that’s enough… -____-
Nine Websites:
1. Cassiopeium!! [http://cassiopeium.thinkevolving.org]
2. Wiki
3. CUUS
4. Sina
5. MOP
6. Baidu
7. Simtropolis
8. ROCU
9. BT China
Eight Songs(Singers) [in no particular order] :
1.Mad World by Gary Jules
2. Lene Marlin
3. Savage Garden
4. Honda RuRu
5. Enya
6. Jasmine Leung
7. Elva Hsiao
8. Pu Shu
Seven Cities:
1. Paris
2. Montreal
3. Hangzhou
4. Lhasa
5. Shanghai
6. Bonston
7. Seattle
8. Lanzhou (hometown!)
Six People from History
1. Li Bai
2. Da Vinci
3. Mao
4. Plato
5. Wang Xiaobo
6. Alexander the Great 
Five About the Opposite Sex:
1. Long hair (to shoulder)
2. Studying Arts
3. 165cm+
4. Know Chinese
5. Goodlooking =]
Four Things You Pretend to Not Bother You:
1. Hypocrites
2. Shallow ppl who only cares about appearances
3. People being ignorant about other cultures/values
4. Japanese extremists, ignorant nationalists, raciest, etc.
Three Things that Make You Smile:[maybe in order?]
1. Friends
2. Dreaming
3. Writing
Two Things that Make You Cry:
1. To think of the fact that I think toooo much
2. Random things, such as reading poems (I can cry whenever I want)
One Ultimately Weird Habit:
1. In a state of Constant Denial
People That Should to Do This Survey: [it’s going to be a mix of sns and names haha]
whoever’s reading this (in case u haven’t done it)
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium VIII
SAT in just few hours
I confess,
it’s too much
too much money for me to take it so many times
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium IX
Cassiopeium , I’m very disappointed in you.
Cassipeium got really tired of, basically everything.
Damn it, don’t ever talk to yourself in 2nd and 3rd persons.
I was pratically knocked up (hell no, I don’t mean having a baby) after the test.
I dove into bed with junk buffet food stuffed in me
Then I had a very lucid dream of taking the SAT again…
Here comes the worst part, all the vocabs I didn’t know during the test flashed back to me.
A dude called and woke me up, fell back to sleep, woke up again by parents calling.
Then I just used my computer to look up all those vocab words -_-||
Daily Confession with Cassipeium [X]
I cannot stand looking into her eyes
which shone like the brightest stars of Orion.
But the beauty is ephemeral
I approached her and whispered into her ears
“Thy beauty is thy misery…”
–And that which we call love is nothing but mere imprudence
Do you still remember that day, A was standing in the rain, shouting at you
“Go!! Go away!!the hell with your obligations!!”
And C repiles with her usual dispassionate tone
“Care me not…”
Read Milan Kundera,and then write in that delicate kitschy style.
And the world revolves aournd my fingertips.
I confess.
Daily Confession with Cassipeium [XI]
random thoughts,
tons of confessions to make.
perhaps I was blessed at the moment, but that doesn’t make me a Christian, does it?
I’m still by nature an Agnostic, and will always be.
God loves us anyway, day in and day out, despite the fact that we’ve all let him down.
And the fact those so-claimed believers are nothing more than a name called.
As if, as if..
So at this moment my future remains a mystery. Ithaca，or Montreal, in a few month?
No more Texas, that’s for sure.
“hey, that’s the beauty of life, the great uncertainty that bewilders since day one.”
Says Angel.
So here it comes, there it goes, don’t forget ur wings, Angel.
Some essential elements of Tragedy, Greek especially, are pre-installed into my other world created by demi-literature.
More thoughts on my book:
Alec was destined to fall, too sharp, too glorious.
And he had to do it, for the sake of his pride, which we call Hubris.
And so he decides to do it, so he doesn’t feel owing anyone, never ever.
That we call Hamartia
And hence comes the down fall.
There was internal conflict, so intense it takes me out.
The only way out was Denial.
Long afterwards, still reminscencing, still hurting.
So there is the beauty of our tragic life.
Wisdom comes from suffering.
Chloe, so beauty, so miserable
destined to be lonely， walk her path alone
There’s Alec besides her, trying hard to accompany her.
But eventually, her destiny, her obligation, was irrevocable, insuperable
And it goes on…
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium [XII] –Depression
looking back at the few years I’ve spent in states, it’s very easy to summarize my state of mind with a single adjective: Depressed.
I guess I was able to overcome, or at least control the problem since I moved to H-town , despite the syndrome of chronic depression which occurs often late in night. (wtf is that..)
As Professor Ha Jin quoted from a writer, Anton Pavlovich Chekhov or Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy, I do not know, anyway, the saying is:
” the best works of literature are created by the most depressed minds”
and that’s damn true.
Why did those Russians,
Ivan Sergeyevich Turgenev (Ива́н Серге́евич Турге́нев)
Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin (Алекса́ндр Серге́евич Пу́шкин)
Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky (Фёдор Миха́йлович Достое́вский)
Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (Анто́н Па́влович Че́хов, )
Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy (Лев Никола́евич Толсто́й )
emerged as the most glorious ones in World Liteature, rivaled by only few in the history of mankind. Look at that part of Russia’s histoy, u know what happened, it’s easy to understand.
Misery, Tragedy, Regret, Reminiscence—- Depression is the catalyst for inspiration. IT is so poewrful that when it overtakes me, I’d sit on my bed the entire night, doing nothing but staring at the stark dark sky.
Looking back at what had taken place in my year and half in ATL, it is so ironic that, that period of my life, the part I hated so much and couldn’t wait to eschew from, has now become one of the most inspiring part of my memory.
I used to think that , little pieces of happiness gathered up in our lives can be just as memorable and unforgettable. I was wrong. Life is a course of constantly fighting against and succumbing to one’s miserable fate. Don’t call me Pessimistic, it’s simply the truth.
—————————————————————————
Now the tasks lay clearly ahead of me, so is the weakness that hinders me from improving. I’ve been struggling on the most superficial level of trying to establish an adept skill in Language. WTF, my expression is my biggest obstacle, not my Imagination. At least that’s good to know. Skills can be developed, may take years, Imagination and Creativity can never.
When I have time, after done with Kafka, Murakami , Kundera, Proust, and perhaps even some European philosophers, I’ll start tackle some of these Russian masterpieces.
Daily Confession with Cassiopeium [XIII]
What good can you do man?
Staying up at 4 am, watching Clerks 2 , while u still have to study for the shitty test that u were supposed to take a week ago.
That movie made me pretty sad, coz I see little difference between me and those two burger-flippers.
Nah don’t give me that live to be urself shit and all. This is a progressing society, and men are of competitive nature.
It’s either u be something , or u r nothing. Oh yea there are the Tragic Heroes, but what about those common souls who didn’t get to play part in the tragedy. Which is more depressing? be miserable and heroic, or be one of those millions of common ones, who are merely counted as a number , one of the many that lived and died pointlessly.
What is dangerous for a man is not to possess to much ambitions, but to have no ambitions at all.
There goes the “internal conflict” part, is that what’s making u suffer?
If you have a dream but can’t live up to it, then u might as well shut up and join the ignorant populace. There is NO need to daydream about becoming something someday. Even god pays little attention to the common people.
Geez, what’s with all the philosophical shit all over just because u r procrastinating like every other freaking night.
Want u actually do something useful rahter than spending a good 20 minutes using this for-losers xanga and expecting that sometime, somehow, someone will actually read ur shit and have any thoughts about all the BS, a total waste of WEB resource.
Great ppl don’t whine and shit , do they.
Well I ain’t great or anything, perhaps not even trying to be.
Study for the freaking test now, oh god I fvking hate Math. Gonna kill Descartes and Newton’s asses after I go down to hell….
confessed, not forgiven
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XIV] Released! True scrpt of the to-be-finished book.
The idea, aka theme, is to expressly yet subtlely establish a sense of Melancholy, which leads to struggle–for something one’s uncertain of. This is very Iconic.
The key word: Sorrow. The sorrw of being wondered tens of thousands of miles away from homeland, of living the life of an outsider, of getting perplexed between the two choices. All the want for a better life condenses into one aim, yet the route is easily lost sight when pursuing with much endeavor.
Important Symbolic delineations of the characters.
1. Downfall of Alec the “perfect Valedictorian.”
2. Chloe’s bitterness caused by the unbearable burden of her obligations.
3. Luke’s wondering and bewilderedness–not knowing where to take a break.
4. Alec’s ideal friend Brenda (Sahrah, Miranda?)–Alec’s past and denial.
5. Emma, Luke’s past and denial.
6. Ash, Luke’s ethereal reality.
7. Denny, tragedy of striving.
8. Fujian boy’s struggle–in contrast with that of Denny’s
9. Fob aka Florentine, foil.
10. X’s struggle–a deserved tragedy.
SO here’s how it goes(the main ones as far as I can mention)–
ATL—Denny—Alec—Chloe—<—Brenda/ Emma—->
Houston—-<—Emma—>Fujian Boy and Fob—->X—-<—Ash—>
ATL–Ideological
HOU—Utilitarian
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XV]
存在先于本质? 抑或本质先于存在？
l’existence précède l’essence?
l’essence précède l’existence?
__I don’t give a shit, I’m alive and happy, that’s all that matters…
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XVI]
Not in that particular mood for writing.
Posting old scrap, 聊胜于无。
Had my writing skills made any improvements during the past…12 or so month，in terms of diction and figurative language , blah blah.
This is really depressing….
I’m better in writing as I become purely dependent on drawing inspirations from deep depression that costs me a lot more than just few lines of nebulous words showing up on computer screen, it costs me happiness and hope.
Disastrous…Disastrous Indeed.
我翻腾着那个大得足够装下两个我的箱子，弄得尘土飞扬，然后我看到那盘比我岁数还大的磁带，就好像突然间发现了从未有人知道的东西，高兴地不知所措。
下午三点的阳光我眼前的以前都染上了暖色调。我又感到一段似乎很久就被我忘记的场景棗也或许是我的又一个幻想。那是某个夏日的午后，一个我不记得天空颜色的晴天。我和她坐在我家那个比唯一的卧室还宽敞的阳台的地板革上，堆着我儿时最爱的玩具棗一盒廉价的积木。
我清楚地记得一条很长的白纱布窗棂在我们头上随风飘曳，阳光撒遍整个房间，都是纯白色的。
她抬起头来冲着我笑，露出了两排发亮的牙齿，头上的小辫儿一晃一晃的。额头上还飘着几缕细细的发丝。那个微笑似乎一直没有结束，因为我实在记不清后来发生的事了，她留给我的最后印象就是那个笑。在我忘却了关于她的大部分记忆后，她也就以一个笑的形态存在于我脑海中。
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XVII]
WTH.. My Xanga interface turned Chinese
Hey, I know I post in Chinese once in a while, but you don’t have to accommodate me, you stupid XXXX
LOL
Here are some updates:
College App: Un-started
College Essay: Brainstormed..
Final: 3 more to go.
Winter Breaking: Writing my collge app. what else do u expect…
Current State: lethargic
My Book: @#@%#@%()*!!…
Depression: As Usual
Currently Reading: not really, besides stalking other ppl’s blog.
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XVIII]
I find less things to confess (or to fuss) about nowadays, Am I turning optimistic?
Life,
Life is beautiful? No
Life is a series of discontinuous miseries with intermittent moments of happiness.
Is it the suffering that makes life meaningful? or the joy of being?
I’d say it’s contradictory but complementary.
Let’s talk about Dreams
My dream is to become a multi-lingual writer. Yes, not only a novelist, but a writer who narrates the world with his words.
For literature is much different from all other disciplines of studies. It is not a exploration of the unknown world, but a realization and discovery of inner-self. Through literary writing a man is constantly challenging himself to achieve something higher–intangible sometimes–and thus the beauty of writing lies within this Odyssean journey of the mind. It is truly a competition against oneself, a competition not necessarily rewarding, but glorious in its nature.
The purpose of writing:
Self-fulfillment, and Self-Revealment.
To others, Such significance maybe minimal, but as long as the above two goals are accomplished, the meaningful of writing will ascend to a different stage, and begin influencing other witty minds with its glamour of intelligence, it is the beam of light glowing from the tower of human civilization, the enlightenment to humanity at its highest stage.
Plenty of big words thrown, let’s put it simple and staight forward:
Why do we differ with animals? We humans use reasoning, we have logics.
What is the fundamental thing that conveys such gifts we possess?
Language.
The beauty of language… (Guess I don’t have to mention)
Humanity precedes Science, as ideal precedes material.
Am I working hard enough toward this dream? No
But I am working on it.
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XIX]
Don’t get me wrong, I meant no harm
Just… a bit emotional…
And I pity thee if thou art pathetic
I admit that this is a life full of sadness
but it is like a cold winter day with sunshine.
If you seek happiness, you’ll always find some.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XX]
冠盖满京华,斯人独憔悴
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XXI]
My mind set is wrong. Wrong.
Is there a particular reason for doing anything? everything?
And before I take action I must persuade myself with proper causes?
Here’s why I ain’t gonna be happy in 07 and henceforth, if I don’t get what I want, i.e. going to a “Top School”
It doesn’t matter whether a “top school” is really “top” or worthy of its reputation, or that there are many alternatives for me. And it’s definitely not only about “school”, or “future career” I’ve an answer for me already, and this time I shall not let it slip away.
It’s about HAPPINESS.
I’ve been talking to myself constantly, and was often able to forewarn myself of some disastrous outcomes. However I still end up living the prophecies I’ve made for myself, and repeating it in such a painful way.
Unbearable, certainly unbearable.
I said, OK it’s important to know what you want. I think I’m quite aware of it at this moment. But really? Where’s the critical mind when it comes to questioning my own selection? Am I capable of making such Imprudent conclusion?
Speaking of economics, which I think I have a talent on, why is it so hard for you to give up something you want at the moment for what you want the most. Tradeoffs, opportunity costs, are necessary, I know it.
OK now it seems to me there’s not much to do but to wait for that final call. But I know if I fail I’ll be angry at myself and have another attempt after failure. Or, I’ll simply slip into that foul cycle, once again, irrevocably.
Tell me, tell me not to do that, tell me that even after the biggest failure of my life I can still stand up from the frustration, tell me I’m mature enough to understand the simplicity of the intricacy.
Till today, no one has been your savior, except for you yourself.
The answer has always been,
Keep it simple
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XXII]
2007-01-14 22:08:30 超级王文博
呵呵
2007-01-14 22:08:45 超级王文博
在看你主页
2007-01-14 22:09:10 Deja Vu
呵呵
2007-01-14 22:08:52 超级王文博
刚下课跑去网吧了
看看别人的空间
2007-01-14 22:09:40 超级王文博
你什么时候回来
2007-01-14 22:10:20 Deja Vu
夏天
6月吧
2007-01-14 22:10:03 超级王文博
能呆多长时间?
2007-01-14 22:10:40 Deja Vu
在兰州最多一个月吧，要去很多地方
2007-01-14 22:10:43 Deja Vu
西藏，甘南
2007-01-14 22:10:20 超级王文博
呵呵
2007-01-14 22:10:48 Deja Vu
咱们可以一起去
2007-01-14 22:10:27 超级王文博
呵呵
2007-01-14 22:10:52 Deja Vu
去玩啊
2007-01-14 22:10:46 超级王文博
我这两年走的路和 折子他们的完全不一样了
2007-01-14 22:11:23 Deja Vu
呵呵，哲子保送了是把
2007-01-14 22:11:30 Deja Vu
他说是上交大
2007-01-14 22:11:10 超级王文博
是的
也许他们会是顺顺利利 我却真的需要一搏
2007-01-14 22:10:35 超级王文博
我也准备考试完写本书
2007-01-14 22:12:06 Deja Vu
这次保送了多少？还有二附的吗
2007-01-14 22:12:23 Deja Vu
嗯，该写，你有那个能力的
2007-01-14 22:12:00 超级王文博
满意
刘加以
2007-01-14 22:12:37 Deja Vu
这么多
2007-01-14 22:12:15 超级王文博
再没了
2007-01-14 22:12:40 Deja Vu
都哪里？
2007-01-14 22:12:23 超级王文博
清华
2007-01-14 22:12:30 超级王文博
呵呵 我走的路有点曲折了
2007-01-14 22:13:07 Deja Vu
我不觉得你适合学理
毕竟你喜欢文科多一点，你说呢
2007-01-14 22:13:05 超级王文博
我觉得对于我都差不多
2007-01-14 22:13:32 Deja Vu
当然并不是说学校那些内容
2007-01-14 22:13:12 超级王文博
恩
2007-01-14 22:13:46 Deja Vu
个人的兴趣
2007-01-14 22:13:21 超级王文博
哎
2007-01-14 22:13:52 Deja Vu
我本科可能要学历史
2007-01-14 22:13:36 超级王文博
我倒
2007-01-14 22:13:39 超级王文博
在哪里上？
2007-01-14 22:13:47 超级王文博
呵呵
加油了
2007-01-14 22:14:22 Deja Vu
随便哪里吧，四月就知道了
2007-01-14 22:14:03 超级王文博
呵呵
2007-01-14 22:14:16 超级王文博
哎
我这两年走了和他们不一样的路
真的
2007-01-14 22:15:29 Deja Vu
呵呵，也没我差别大
2007-01-14 22:15:16 超级王文博
你至少还是别人眼里的正常路线吧
2007-01-14 22:15:42 Deja Vu
我老想，我在国内可能情况和你相似
2007-01-14 22:15:24 超级王文博
不会可能和象他们说的 坏了
2007-01-14 22:16:31 Deja Vu
我觉得重要的是你觉得自己几年没白过
中国人就他妈看牌子
2007-01-14 22:16:32 超级王文博
呵呵
2007-01-14 22:17:03 Deja Vu
我在这看见一大堆北大清华毕业的在三流学校读博
2007-01-14 22:16:40 超级王文博
其实我一直在想
学的那些东西能干吗
有用的有多少
2007-01-14 22:17:17 Deja Vu
干你想干的东西
最惨的是不知道你想干嘛
2007-01-14 22:17:22 超级王文博
呵呵那我到是有的
2007-01-14 22:17:50 Deja Vu
大部分人都知道自己该干嘛
2007-01-14 22:17:31 超级王文博
我想干的我这两年都有的干
2007-01-14 22:18:05 Deja Vu
不知道自己想干的
2007-01-14 22:17:48 超级王文博
而且我觉得 我这两年的生活是附中最丰富的
2007-01-14 22:18:20 Deja Vu
呵呵，不过也别为一时所想的放弃最想的
2007-01-14 22:18:06 超级王文博
即使在那些所谓老师眼里 是 歪门邪道
2007-01-14 22:18:16 超级王文博
呵呵 明白 以后的生活还是物质支持的
2007-01-14 22:18:41 Deja Vu
我可以想像你经历的东西，你从小就能来事
2007-01-14 22:18:45 Deja Vu
呵呵
2007-01-14 22:18:22 超级王文博
有时候得放弃一些东西
比如这几个月
2007-01-14 22:19:16 Deja Vu
其实很遗憾我一直不知道中国高中也可以申请本科
2007-01-14 22:19:02 超级王文博
不是吧？
2007-01-14 22:19:30 Deja Vu
否则按照你的英语底子，努力一年多就有希望了
2007-01-14 22:19:06 超级王文博
不过要自己联系的
我高一的时候把4级过了
2007-01-14 22:19:23 超级王文博
后来发现那东西其实没啥用处
碰到外国人 语法 其实 没的用
2007-01-14 22:19:59 Deja Vu
有一个组织专门搞这个的，海外的中国本科生帮你申请
2007-01-14 22:20:10 Deja Vu
呵呵，他们那些人都是高一托福就600多的
好多比我考试都强
2007-01-14 22:19:59 超级王文博
呵呵 没办法 所趋
2007-01-14 22:20:06 超级王文博
身在兰州
2007-01-14 22:20:39 Deja Vu
但你有那个实力，因为你不是只读书的人
2007-01-14 22:20:20 超级王文博
哎
2007-01-14 22:20:33 超级王文博
这个地方不太适合我
所以先委屈自己了。
2007-01-14 22:21:59 Deja Vu
谁能说一辈子怎样
2007-01-14 22:21:39 超级王文博
说不了
2007-01-14 22:21:49 超级王文博
高二的时候有段时间在家
2007-01-14 22:22:00 超级王文博
补课的时候
2007-01-14 22:29:29 超级王文博
其实 我觉得你可能会比较理解我一点
大学是会影响以后 可是真的不会占到50% 对吗？
2007-01-14 22:30:14 Deja Vu
呵呵
2007-01-14 22:30:03 超级王文博
我觉得社会阅历 重要点
2007-01-14 22:30:39 Deja Vu
人一辈子有趣
就是因为你不知道未来发生啥
2007-01-14 22:30:51 超级王文博
恩
2007-01-14 22:31:02 超级王文博
我一直想告诉所有人 大学占不了多少
就算上到博士
从小到大学上2.30年
除非你去搞研究
能用的终究没多少
而且从小到大
学的东西 一直都是学 推翻 学 推翻
2007-01-14 22:34:30 Deja Vu
08年我肯定去北京
2007-01-14 22:34:09 超级王文博
恩 而且我喜欢北京这个城市
我只喜欢北京的大学
我觉得现代化是基于一座城市的底蕴的
2007-01-14 22:34:48 超级王文博
上海广州永远比不上北京
2007-01-14 22:34:54 超级王文博
回来等我们考试完一起玩的
2007-01-14 22:35:36 Deja Vu
我现在足球篮球都不行了
2007-01-14 22:35:49 Deja Vu
去年把脚崴了一次
弹跳都不行了
2007-01-14 22:36:39 Deja Vu
其实你说的很对，大部分读博士的都是找不到工作的
2007-01-14 22:36:21 超级王文博
只能去搞研究 只适合研究室
2007-01-14 22:36:56 Deja Vu
当然也有爱研究的，少数
2007-01-14 22:36:36 超级王文博
我一直在T足球的
2007-01-14 22:36:50 超级王文博
今年的11月脚受伤了
得半年多吧
2007-01-14 22:37:33 Deja Vu
你以前就骨裂过
你踢球不带护腿板的？
2007-01-14 22:37:51 超级王文博
我喜欢原始点 带那些东西 有的动作不可以做出来
我左脚脚踝又骨裂了。。。
2007-01-14 22:38:35 Deja Vu
腿不行了什么动作都做不出来了
2007-01-14 22:38:25 超级王文博
也对。。。
2007-01-14 22:39:11 超级王文博
我是跳起来落地的时候踩在别人脚上
2007-01-14 22:39:49 Deja Vu
我跳起来被人推了一把
2007-01-14 22:39:42 超级王文博
我倒
2007-01-14 22:40:10 Deja Vu
以前可以摸篮筐的，现在废了
2007-01-14 22:39:48 超级王文博
你更喜欢篮球点吧
2007-01-14 22:40:29 Deja Vu
我喜欢打篮球，更喜欢看足球
2007-01-14 22:40:06 超级王文博
呵呵
我喜欢那种 磨难好多才有结果的比赛
2007-01-14 22:40:42 Deja Vu
我一直在玩实况
2007-01-14 22:40:19 超级王文博
我也在玩
2007-01-14 22:40:45 Deja Vu
不过微操不行
2007-01-14 22:40:27 超级王文博
我也一般。。。
我主要配合。
2007-01-14 22:41:03 Deja Vu
美国的体育动不动就停下来放广告
不爽
2007-01-14 22:40:45 超级王文博
我键没什么复杂的
就是多传
2007-01-14 22:41:14 Deja Vu
你带球巨扣的
萝卜头卡洛斯底线狂奔，哈哈哈
2007-01-14 22:41:17 超级王文博
。。。我倒
2007-01-14 22:41:57 Deja Vu
那是实况3 吧
2007-01-14 22:41:39 超级王文博
不过我在学校校队也是左边后卫的
2007-01-14 22:42:04 Deja Vu
现在都10 了
2007-01-14 22:41:45 超级王文博
我喜欢9
2007-01-14 22:42:25 Deja Vu
我只玩9，没玩过10
机子跑不动啊，呵呵
2007-01-14 22:43:30 Deja Vu
你和你女朋友还在一起吗
2007-01-14 22:43:25 超级王文博
恩。
2007-01-14 22:43:54 Deja Vu
不容易，呵呵
2007-01-14 22:43:31 超级王文博
淡淡的
我喜欢一个人
2007-01-14 22:43:43 超级王文博
她要去清华的
2007-01-14 22:44:07 超级王文博
我高中最对不起的就是她的。。。
2007-01-14 22:44:50 超级王文博
她马上就要去北京考试的。
2007-01-14 22:45:16 Deja Vu
这种事情随缘吧
2007-01-14 22:45:24 Deja Vu
说不上谁对不起谁的
2007-01-14 22:45:02 超级王文博
没什么意外的话去清化
2007-01-14 22:45:42 Deja Vu
我相信命的
这几年这些事情，不信命都不行
2007-01-14 22:45:35 超级王文博
呵呵
我相信我是一个人。
2007-01-14 22:46:13 Deja Vu
才18，早着呢
等你68再说也不迟
2007-01-14 22:46:03 超级王文博
呵呵 这些年想法都没变过的
自由自在的日子我喜欢
牵挂和被牵挂 都累
2007-01-14 22:46:50 Deja Vu
谁知道呢，遇到一个人只需要一瞬间
2007-01-14 22:47:17 Deja Vu
你踢球能加分吗
2007-01-14 22:46:59 超级王文博
10
我觉得没用的
2007-01-14 22:47:19 超级王文博
我甚至觉得上大学也是命 哈哈
2007-01-14 22:47:59 Deja Vu
是啊，踢这么多年球就值两道题
2007-01-14 22:48:19 Deja Vu
我想我以后英文写好了一定要好好写写国内的生活
比这类的生活可写的多多了
2007-01-14 22:48:36 超级王文博
呵呵
2007-01-14 22:48:46 超级王文博
T球是为了过程饿。
2007-01-14 22:49:23 Deja Vu
但是国内把啥都明码标价
2007-01-14 22:49:02 超级王文博
如果不出汗 那T球也没什么意思了
甚至受伤都是乐趣 哈哈
2007-01-14 22:49:12 超级王文博
现在的兰州 感情都有价格的
2007-01-14 22:49:56 Deja Vu
呵呵不知道我走这几年变了多少
2007-01-14 22:50:06 Deja Vu
我是越来越喜欢写作了
2007-01-14 22:49:55 超级王文博
其实我有很多要说的话。。。
想写出来
2007-01-14 22:50:27 Deja Vu
或许兰州和你我变的一样多
2007-01-14 22:50:16 超级王文博
但是我觉得整个社会变了
但是还是没有从那个圈子里出来
2007-01-14 22:50:55 Deja Vu
在我心里还是美好的
我还是更喜欢以前的生活
当然，回不去了
2007-01-14 22:51:26 Deja Vu
我希望这次回来看看能做出一个选择
2007-01-14 22:51:28 超级王文博
呵呵
我真的和折子他们不太一样了。。。
在别人看来
2007-01-14 22:52:15 Deja Vu
你和哲子还在一起玩吗
2007-01-14 22:52:21 Deja Vu
我猜不在了
2007-01-14 22:51:59 超级王文博
恩
很久了
2007-01-14 22:52:49 Deja Vu
新宇似乎变的最少，从我的感觉来看
每次聊的还是游戏，轩辕剑 呵呵
2007-01-14 22:52:43 超级王文博
他是个恬淡的人饿。。。
简单的生活
2007-01-14 22:53:21 Deja Vu
他其实不简单，只是活的简单
2007-01-14 22:53:09 超级王文博
也是一种态度
也好也好
2007-01-14 22:53:43 Deja Vu
嗯，但是似乎从小就有
反正我学不来
2007-01-14 22:53:36 超级王文博
恩
2007-01-14 22:54:14 Deja Vu
你和爸妈处的不好吧
2007-01-14 22:53:55 超级王文博
还可以
2007-01-14 22:54:52 超级王文博
中国人还是要在中国
2007-01-14 22:55:16 Deja Vu
最后还是为了我上学留下来
2007-01-14 22:54:55 超级王文博
呵呵
我特别喜欢你爸爸
做事的风格
2007-01-14 22:55:37 Deja Vu
我要回国也是6、7年以后了
2007-01-14 22:55:42 Deja Vu
呵呵
2007-01-14 22:55:27 超级王文博
大学是一个台阶
10年以后 呵呵 也许你会看到以前的我
2007-01-14 22:56:20 Deja Vu
我觉得你也该出来
出来看看 出来很能改变一个人
你以前看不清的东西一下就清楚了
2007-01-14 22:58:09 Deja Vu
我不喜欢这，因为这里的虽然人相处融洽，但实际的人情很淡
2007-01-14 22:59:08 超级王文博
是
2007-01-14 22:59:11 超级王文博
国外么
2007-01-14 22:59:14 超级王文博
对了 你打到136 有电的电话
2007-01-14 22:59:58 Deja Vu
好 你搞特别任务啊，老妈一个，女友一个
2007-01-14 23:00:13 超级王文博
是雷套的电话。
2007-01-14 23:01:37 Deja Vu
妈的密码20多位数
2007-01-14 23:01:17 超级王文博
…
2007-01-14 23:02:17 超级王文博
雷套这个SB非说 打过来要钱
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XXIII]
I am turning this Xanga into a psychological journal of myself…..
Kundera talked in Lightness of the Being the vertigo of life, that is, the fear for falling. What is my vertigo?
Speaking of Falling, Camus has a good explanation of his Fall
“The Cartesian Frenchman in me didn’t take long to catch hold of himself and attribute those accidents to the only reasonable divinty–that is, chance.”
I Often questioned the wisdom of my decisions–commitment into Arts, literature, writing, etc.,etc. As I have made concerns in personal essays, I am well aware that such effort may, and more than likely, be fruitless. This doubt has long been the main part of my execuses to be in a state of deinal, to allow myself to spend time on meaningless things. This has shaken my sometimes naive belief that, with some degrees of effort, I could achieve the level desired, although its acutality remains unclear to me.
There’s Vertigo. I fear that what I have done and am doing will be nothing but futile attempts to save myself from a pathetic state of being. That all the dreams will eventually be dreams and nothing more. Such would be the Fall, and when that day advents, I will have no preparation for the fiasco.
Rationalizing has been a big part of my actions. Emotionally intelligent people would simply break out laughing: Why Bother?
Just couldn’t keep it simpler, couldn’t.
Vertigo,feeling dizzy, as long as you are happy.
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XXIV]
I find things rather tiring now.
I’m afraid that I won’t get to finish it, maybe not even reaching the 100,000 word mark writing at this pace. I don’t deny the fact that I’ve been laying back on this. Does this mean I have no more passions? No, the passion is still there, just that I’m having a hard time getting settled down and gathering my thoughts together.
Trivial things tend to bother me so much to the extent that I’ve developed this withdrawing attitude.
Commitment, it’s all about devoting my time, energy, and passion into this. I never said it is gonna be easy, it would not be nearly as rewarding if it’s something easy. But I’m frustrated despite all the realizations and determinations. Today I sat there and stared at out of the windows of the living room. This young girl (or woman) was flying a kite with her companion on the grass near the riverside trail across the road. Suddenly I had a spark of thoughts going, that even small things can matter a lot–the defining subtlety. Using seemingly unrelated subjects to express related matters, anything. What may seem meaningless is made meaningful through the smooth words flowing out of the writer. No doubt it is all in me already, and probably will take me a lifetime to discover, understand, and exploit it.
Perfectionism, I certainly don’t make commitments often and easily, but when I do I never try to give up on the way or not doing my best. I can hardly recall when’s the last time I made such strong commitment, that’s the problem. There were, so to speak, many vows I’d taken but not taken seriously with my heart.
But I tell myself from time to time, this one is different, if there’s anything, this’d be IT.
This is a one man’s game, not body cares except me, really. So much pride in doing this, I fear that I will not do as well as I could, or not fulfill my expectations. This fear hinders my actions, causes me to vacillate every time I’m trying. Once I succeed, all the praise, applause, cheers, attentions, all comes to me. But what if all the attempts eventually fall in vain? Will anyone care?
Well I do. I’ve been waiting, working toward that very moment when I’ll just stand up there and looking down with pride in my eyes, with contempt toward those who looked down on me. And turn around Smiling, to those who supported me all the way. That’s what I’ve been waiting for, what’s why I’m doing all these.
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XXV]
2007-4-18 0:10:15 CASSIOPEIUM
friendship has to stand against time
i have known one guy for 14 years
we were close like brothers for years
then we were apart , in same class everyday but didn’t even talk
but finally we were friends
for about 3 or 4 years he didn’t like me, coz i was such arrongant person
but then we went back to be friends
i guess my friendship with him stood
2007-4-18 0:13:26 爱吃糖的盐水鱼
well i guess u will soon find out if ur friendship really did stand against time
2007-4-18 0:13:42 CASSIOPEIUM
ok i’ve always wanted to write this down
but now i’m gonna tell u in person
for all the friends i had, i admired some part of them as a person
for the friend i know for 14 yrs, he’s hardworking, determined, and smart
for my piano friend, he’s the most talented person i’ve known
and i used to be this boy’s bitch
but soon i found out all the flaws on him, the glare wore off
now althogh we’d together reminisce the good times we spent together
the connection is lost
he said he has changed so much , i’m going to see it this summer
what i have to tell u is
for u, i have yet to find the part of u
that i can recognize, and admire
not that u don’t have it, but it takes time
i’m done, u can go sleep now
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XXVI]
So just now I’ve been reading <悲伤逆流成河>, a new book by 郭敬明， one of the most famous (or infamous) so called “Post-1980’s” Generation writer, which of course includes me if you consider me a writer at all.
Sad indeed, for life is consists of moments of happiness obliterated by a series of unavoidably tragic events. Dreams shatter so easily it makes people question its authenticity.
But that’s hardly my concern now. How much does it take to become a “writer”? One man one lifetime, or less that but no less than what?
The problem with me writing is not that I cannot overcome any spectacles or limitations, but that I could see no end to such seemingly ungainful endeavor–No matter how hard I push myself, I never feel satisfied, not to mention I am not pushing it hard enough at all.
Lots and lots talents end up in nothing, and the less talented but harder working ones succeed.
What’s INSIGHT? I sit there and watching and watching and seeing the hollow and not-so-hollow ones wonder around dying to display themselves in such explicitly overwhelmed world of absurdity and irony which carries no more meaningfulness than what it is meant to be appears to be and the ones who think of themselves with dignity draws not such but indignity and blah blah blah. What is to observe as I sit there playing the role of a nonchalant spectator is perhaps the most intricate and infinitesimal aspects not regularly seen through others’ eyes but I see as the slight rise in corner of her mouth as well as the piece of hair that floats amid the humid Houstonian air and also the most undetectable descend in her tone marking a disgruntled thoughts flashing in her yet innocent mind. The role playing, the GREAT FACADE, the love the hatred the nebular of reality, the most excruciating and most exquisite.
No, not enough.
The trees are leaning as its shadows scatter on the cement ground split into shapes of dead turtle shell and the insect that’s struggling for its very life bouncing and falling in between people’s foot which consists of simple variations but carrying multiple significance to their after school boredom and the sermon that’s to be carried out daily until one day such absurdity is no longer then people cry hard and move on long before new verms join in and begin their detrimental lives in between the lasting shadows of this aging edifice and the everlasting scorching sun.
And then my phone rang.
Daily CONfession with Cassiopeium [XXVII]
That Excruciating Beauty.
Sometimes it’s just less exhausting to write in freaking English, Chinese is exquisite yet too hard to handle, writing in Chinese can be rough as chewing wax. what an irony, I have never been able to grasp the soul of English language.
All art is the art of deception. Photography, however, has turned such craft into the utmost–It captures the exact reality, yet distorts it easily into delusions which mesmerizes us nevertheless.
Visual art, music, and literature are the trinity of human soul.
I wasn’t able to understand the phrase “excruciating beauty” sometimes delineated in literary works–”How can something beautiful and perhaps fragile be deleterious?”–Until I’d seen the photography works by some others, combining which with the elements in literary and life it eventually became salient.
There’s the saying “eyes are the windows of mind and soul”, indeed eyes can carry much sentiments and words inexplicable on paper. The revelation could be transitory as a split of second, and cameras sometimes are able to catch it.
What is it about the eyes and the beauty that’s so striking? It is the sadness you see through.
The saddest is the most beautiful.
I realize that I’m too judgmental by the looks. I am sometimes racist not because of prejudice but because of my bias on appearances. True, people long for beauty, yet when it becomes a fetishistic pursuit, what’s left is only shallow pretence.
Is it only the skin-deep beauty you want? No. The very idea of excruciating beauty is something thrusting deep into your heart, and leaving a scar that lasts in memory.
It is only tragic when a thing of beauty falls. Then is beauty destined to fall? Is it a blessing or damnation?
Is thy beauty thy misery?
Next time: A Day without A Soul
THE FINAL CONFESSION OF CASSIOPEIUM
飘了五年
每周都会提醒自己在周末该给国内的朋友打电话了，但每次又因为各种重要和不重要的事而忘记。我想我其实真的不太想打电话，那会把我和故乡一下拉得太近，勾起的回忆总会使自己伤感许久。
还 有数小时就要离开这里回到祖国，还有不久马上就有五年。回想起这五年,以往凌乱的思绪早已不在，那种感觉在这么多个日夜里逐渐淡化，最终浓缩为一种难以名 状的情绪，仿佛茶几玻璃板下压着的一张茶色照片般，印着几乎是具象的事物。相片中的脸清晰可辩，但背景的孤独与荒谬则混浊不清。
大多数时 候很寂寞，寂寞的时候会写下些回忆的文字，且不自禁把这五年想成一个人的五年。与父母的关系一直以来都很微妙，有时觉得很疏远，觉得他们不能了解我。但朋 友说你和你爸妈说起话来完全不像父母与子女的关系，可以肆无忌惮地开玩笑，或许我们之间真的有种保留着距离的默契吧。父母说我对他们不够好，总是和他们争 论，也从不在人前说些要如何孝顺他们之类令他们十分高兴的话。我始终明白有些事不是几个承诺就可以做到的，至少在我离开之前我都无法看到。而有些东西则永 远无以为报。
我是个不善言表的人，最喜欢在白日里隐藏真情实感。我有很多想法一出口就成为截然不同的话。我为了适应不同的环境不得不戴起 各种面具以笑对人，不知这样使自己更快乐或更悲伤。在多数人眼中我是个对学校满不在乎，喜欢无所事事的到处开着玩笑游荡的懒人，业余时间多半在上网玩游 戏，基本没有社交生活，没有思想。
其实游戏者并不是最爱游戏的人
我是个极度自负的家伙，向来都舌尖嘴利，几句话便让人想 冲我扑过来。我不与多数人交往的原因多半是我不屑与他们说话而已。对人的认识则更加肤浅，几乎只会以貌取人。这一切都造就了我的孤僻。我每日在自己嘻哈小 丑的面具后冷眼观看旁人做戏，厌倦时想我在国内生十几年的生活棗在一座烟囱比树还多的城市里从未看到天空真正的颜色，除年幼无知的快乐外别无其他。即使我 如何坚信己那段生活的真实性并赋予它无比崇高的意义，我可能自始至终都未找到所谓的真实，并将这一切归咎于我的这五年。我不得不怀疑他们都是真实的，面对 真实慌忙地变色的仅我一人。
沉溺于网络的人，无非是迷恋她可以扯掉一切伪装或伪装起一切。
用一双布满血丝的眼睛凝视着无限，不管网路另一段的是否是头猪，自己的十指都连接着灵魂。
过 去几年颓废的生活在大脑海马体中留下了大片空白。我痴迷电影，但一定不会是个好的编导。这五年的经历被自己剪辑成无数难以用时间串联的片段，回忆起来好像 看一场缺了片子的幻灯片。而每张片子的内容都已失真，太过细节都被化为粗糙而模糊的几何形状。我努力尝试用独特细腻的视角去观察这场生活的种种细节片段， 却总随后将它们印在许多劣质的胶片上，藏掖到脑海深处，留下个令我迷失的后遗症棗时隐时现的Deja Vu，似曾相识的感觉。
最初在西北小城的两年充满了斗志与初到时的忐忑，而之后的亚城至休市则剧变为全然的混乱。虽跟人说起时常归咎于环境，在心底却明白一切都是性格使然。自欺欺人地安慰自己大概性格决定命运，而没有能力掌握自己的性格，面对命运也就无可奈何。
记 得曾经足球比赛后一个人坐在山顶的学校后俯视山脚下的绿茵场以及相连其尽头的麦地还有更远处灰色的地平线时看着看着有点乏了于是一切就那样在半睁半合的眼 中融为一体且惊奇地发现月前在博物馆看到梵高的揅ypress�竟是近乎相同的感觉（我注视那幅画许久，直至清场，几乎被它散发出的近似诡异的气息吸入其 中）。在细雨中搭公车回家，心中除了作业外偶尔还会想起离开那晚和朋友踢的最后一场球：最后天快黑了大家都不走，最后跑不动了仍有人不停传球给我，最后大 家站在原地一遍又一遍看着我踢出的球缓缓滚入网中，直到看不清彼此的脸。
在后来的学校等车时总喜欢背靠着墙坐在角落静静观望亚城的天空有时会在下午四点准时落下的霏霏细雨，隔着一排高大的被雨洗得如水彩画般的衫树看街道上车流涌动，好像隔了一个世界。
而 现在等车时仍是孑然一身并不言不语地坐着注视喧嚣的人群在门廊屋檐投下的阴影与大片奢侈的阳光中无止境地舞动着嘻笑打闹仿佛在故意进行自己的嘉年华化妆游 行。炽热吞噬一切，他们的话好像我不懂歌词的说唱。我所关注的并不是眼前晃过的这众多媚俗地展现着她们努力减少却又不违反校规的衣物下十几岁的稚嫩胴体的 女孩们，亦非那群喜欢用蹩脚的幽默感开些自以为睿智的玩笑的高智商混蛋们。
这与我在网络中看到的一张张或可人或娇媚或令人作呕的照片相比，又有何不同呢。
一只残喘的飞虫在光影之间挣扎着躲避人群的踩踏，我感到它在进行垂死前的呼救，可我仍坐在那掉了漆的红色长凳上，后脑勺贴着窗户大块的茶色玻璃。我侧过脸，乜着眼睛吃力地读到脸旁隔着玻璃的通告上印有的话：
你身后是学校办公室，主意你的音量和措辞，不文明语言会让你付出$250的代价。
那么虚伪的言辞呢？肤浅的生活呢？该付出什么代价？
在 这种化妆舞会中待久了不禁产生抵触心理，Click，旋律响起，遮蔽所有背景噪音。我告诉自己，要憧憬去高山草原面对雪水化成的河舒展双臂大口呼吸水雾感 受让水花溅满全身的透彻心肺的凉爽与真实，却又同时鄙视这种不切实际的想法的娇作。在这片烈日普照的大地之下任何脆弱的东西都无处躲藏，而伪装的坚强是一 幕悲剧的开始。。
哦不，事实并非如此。自己与有些人同时告诉自己。这对你来说无比虚伪的外表是他们最真实的东西。
你看那些肆无忌惮的人，四五年后他们就会成为生活的奴隶，不再无知地快乐下去
他们生活在为自己营造出的完美的小泡沫之中，从来对外界不闻不问，只是那样生活着，仅此而已。
但你又怎能看人一眼就自信地将他或她的生活定义为一场纯粹的喜剧或悲剧呢？每人都生活在不同的谎言所构成的肥皂泡中。你那完全是为自己自卑产生的抵触罢了
无知并快乐着，抑或睿智并痛苦着。
看吧，这种无止境的相对主义论是歇斯底里的开始。
或许能找到真实的地方。那就一定只有梦境了。
我问过许多人他们做什么样的梦。朋友告诉我他几乎不做梦，我想他对现实或许十分满足，否则就是想象力早已枯竭。还有人的梦是黑白的，像一场革命年代的电影，故事人物与现实中一般真实地虚假着。而我的梦变幻无测，每晚都仿佛在游乐园抽彩，永不知自己将要得到的惊喜是什么。
梦中会有很多遗憾很多悲剧情节，但逐渐的我开始迷恋梦境甚至迷恋起那种令人心碎的情节来。
难道我对现实不满到这般地步？
我竟然会在梦醒十分产生极度的不舍。是的，在徘徊与梦与现实（或现实，与梦？）之间的那刹那，我曾不知多少次地对自己说：
刚才是梦么？
靠，看来是的……
是梦…….
随着闹钟叫嚣猛然坐起，凝望天花板的双瞳开始做低效率的调节，最终眼前仍是模糊一片。
紧接着便是空虚，无尽的空虚。
就这样我开始新的一天活在三个世界里，开始又一次混乱的轮回。
第一个世界虚伪到令我无法忍受，我却不得不妥协
第二个世界是记忆的世界，我所谓的文学同样活在这里，我以徒劳的努力尝试着将它进行我所期望的完美诠释。
第三个是梦境，带给我最大的快乐与悲伤的世界。其副作用是那一阵将我全然抽空的空虚，这是种无法抑制的莫名的晕眩与呕吐感，如我平日里在过于嘈杂的人群中木然穿越时会突然产生的感觉。
如果记忆是时间与存在的载体，那梦境就是侵蚀这一切的酸性物质
但你如果告诉我这几年来不断为生活改变着适应着妥协着逆来顺受式地不声不响独自过着这一人的五年。
多少次憧憬这一夜的来临并决心要做出有纪念意义的事来让自己永远记住这一时刻且告诉自己不能哭告诉自己痛恨这种对自己内心最脆弱一面轻易地妥协是种软弱的表现。我最惧怕的就是有人一步上前，用锋利无比的现实的针扎破了我的肥皂泡的同时毫无同情心地告诉我：
看吧！这才是真实的世界！
若要此般，我宁愿活在梦境内一个人的空城中，兀自无知并快乐下去，永无离别之日。
但现在我并没有睡觉
否则，一觉醒来，枕边早已湿透。
五年啊五年，就这么飘着，就这么飘来，就这么飘过了。
我回忆累了，伤感够了，批判烦了。
那就回去吧，好好睡上一觉，一切从新开始。
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