Week 12

Damn hungry.

Home Court.

4 apartment blocks, 1 swimming pool, 1 surau, 2 basketball courts. One of the courts is always occupied by some Indian Under-12 professional footballers, where there is no clear goal line and boots are not needed. The other court is one rim short. The halfcourt with a rim is what I’d like to call– home court.

I was there almost every evening for a few years after I stopped training at school. It’s a really ugly court though. The free throw line can barely be seen now, the wooden backboard shakes like it’s earthquake every time you hit a bank shot, and of course, no net.

We had a group of people who would come here most of the evenings, and we’d play till sundown. I was the youngest amongst them. Naturally I was always the one being bullied, and took every jumpshot I could get. Talk about playing with fucking giants. It was there that I really learned how to shoot better because I had no chance of getting to the basket.  They’d tease me by calling me “Shooter” or “神射手” all the time. I thought they meant it. Thinking back, a lot of them shoot better than me, I was called the names only because I was always afraid of going for layups.

After every session, we would sit on the court and chill for a bit. They would smoke a bit and talk about their online games, somehow they can’t get enough of the games. I’d sit and listen for a while, and after I had enough of the mosquitoes, I walked back home. I’d call it a great day if I played great and won some games. Simple as that.

Even on days that the guys didn’t come, I would go down to the court and shoot some hoops myself. When you have a bad day, it’s good to know that at least you could still hit a few jumpshots, and at the end of the day that keeps you sane…anchored. On days when it’s just me, some boys from the neighbourhood would come and shoot with me. Sometimes I’d even play pickup games with them, and they’d score all over me. I guess they call it a great day when they make shots over me.

One of those days I stopped going to my “home court” and started playing at school again. I forgot why. After I went to Singapore, it’s been a year or two since I played at my home court.

Today I just picked up the ball and went down to my home court. The Indian kids were still playing soccer on one of the courts. The rim had gotten weaker, and still no net of course. I was all by myself until a guy came onto the court.

“Remember me?” he said.

Took me a few seconds to figure out who he is. He was one of the kids from the neighbourhood who used to mess around here. I didn’t like it when adults told you how much taller you’ve grown since the last time they saw you. But boy was he been getting tall or wut.

“Do YZ and the guys still come here?” I asked.

YZ was one of the guys who was responsible for my shot-first instinct.

“Nah…haven’t seen them in a while.” he answered. Then he left.

There I was, expecting to play some hardcore pickup games with the guys to relive this once merry battleground, and ended up making layups that I’ve been practicing for a while, on my own.

“Salty Water Chicken” was the name of the saltiest dish of the night. The “Siamese Pork Leg” was very well cooked and the fish was subpar. Big feast and some awkward chatter were highlights of their night. It’s Mother’s Day, the mothers ought to have their dinner duties relived, albeit just one night where children feel obligated to treat their own mother nicely. There were lots of mothers in the restaurant. Some called the waitress over to seal some remaining dishes they couldn’t finish to take home, or “dabao” to be exact. Everyone fought for the bill when it was handed to the table, because paying for the meal is the cool thing to do. Happy night ended with some desserts.

Sally and her daughter had a great late dinner together. They don’t usually have dinner around dinner time, they’re used to having it late. Sally’s daughter is a smart and hardworking girl. A daughter who helps at home and does well in school is all that Sally hoped for. In fact it’s all that she has. That is what keeps Sally going and motivates her at work. Even having her shift on Mother’s Day evening was fine by her because she knew she gets to dabao the extra leftovers caused by customers’ overorders on these occasions. Sally’s daughter couldn’t hope for more than her favorite “Siamese Pork Leg”, and Sally couldn’t be happier bitching to her daughter about some annoying mothers.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Underneath the cupboard drawer.

At the airport.

He used to think that the airport is a beautiful place. People get suited up, go to the airport, and fly to wherever they wanna go. And the plane, it's such a beautiful vehicle. He used to wear his nicest clothes and gears just to look nice on the plane. The view from up there is so mesmerizing. Everything looked so small, your house, your city, your favorite mall. He felt weightless flying, nothing holding him back.

Today he looked casual. He looked as though he's a frequent flyer, walking around and going through the procedures like a boss. Didn't even bother to send cheesy goodbye text messages. The Internet makes goodbye text messages seem phony.

He had some coffee with his parents at McDonalds before taking off. They didn't really talk much; they're not that type. He just sat there, quietly. He didn't smile much today. He was just sitting there, into his own world of thoughts.

#

I guess he's a little bit different now. He used to be the kind of guy who makes all the sick jokes and laughs out loud all the time. He was always busy with stuff. He was never lonely. Now he still got the same funny bones, but his laughs were not so...real anymore. I don't think he's having fun.

I remember him talking about this key...the key to his cupboard drawer. I forgot what did he keep inside. It was something important i reckon, a bulk of letters I think. He was so upset that the key is gone. I guess he just left it at his dorm. He was so sad that day that he couldn't do anything, just hiding in his room listening to Mayday.

It was supposed to be a happy trip back home for him. He had been waiting for this one-month holiday for so long. All the food, places, people that he missed so much, although he never said it. As soon as he's back, he did all his usual routines that he would do back then. It wasn't very hard to adjust to his former lifestyle, he loved it. But something was missing. He didn't wanna admit it, but something's definitely missing.

On the morning of the day of his flight back to study-land, his face was as stiff as Kirsten Stewart. He didn't talk much. But he did something else instead of packing his luggage. He used all kinds of needles and pins to try to crack open his cupboard drawer. He was so desperate. When everything didn't work, he just hammered it forcefully. And then he started breaking down and slammed the door shut. He was alone in his room for a good half an hour, and he was still listening to Mayday.

#

Three minutes till boarding. They said their goodbyes. He took a last glance at his parents, and noticed the airport wasn't really as beautiful as he thought it was. He walked through the gate, feeling somewhat relieved. He managed to keep his cool.

"Welcome to Singapore", they announced.

He took a mental note to look for the key to his cupboard drawer right after he arrived at his dorm. Somehow he didn't look for it right away. He just lay down on his bed, falling asleep to the sound of silence.

Come January, We're Frozen Inside.

I've never been the travelling type. I'm content with staying at home for holidays. Before this year, the longest duration I've been away from home is 10 days. I forgot how it felt like...I think I was having fun. Being in a hostile environment, witnessing things you've never seen before and hanging out with new buddies...seem kinda fun. But sometimes when you get away from home for too long, in my case 3months, you kinda get tired. You wake up in the morning wondering where's that thick blanket that has the greatest smell on earth. You try to close your eyes again, hoping that when you wake up again your room at home magically appears. Most of the time you just convince yourself that the sun will not go down on you today, so get up and continue working for your dream.

I don't know if i ever had one, but for now I'm really not sure which direction i'm heading to. I'm not sure if I ever felt so confused in life before. I'm not even sure if I'm where I'm supposed to be. Being 20 is hard. Ranting about it won't change anything. It's even harder when the one you thought would listen didn't even take time to do so.

Confessions of a Band Geek

Confessions of a Band Geek

I was so glad to hear that Taurus was going to pick us all up with her Toyota Unser. I knew it’s going to be a long day and it’s going to be more enjoyable if I didn’t have to drive. I’m always a lazy advantage-taking bug.

There were seven of us in the car – Taurus, two Narnians, Cinci, SLK, Dom and me. Of course we talked and shared about everything and nothing. Pillow talk, with a little unexplained awkwardness.

When we arrived at the stadium, it was packed with band geeks. It was like a marching band addiction meet-up group. Why not? It’s the annual state marching band competition. Everyone had to be there. We had to be there to see our juniors perform.

It’s perfect for flashbacks.

#Everyone spends five years in high school here. I went to Chung Ling Butterworth High School. Five of the years, I was in the school band －marching band by day, wind orchestra by night. I was never really fond of the marching part, I preferred just playing music. I thought being in a marching band would make me look geeky. But all members had to participate anyway.

I was a percussionist in the band. Most people consider drummers cool, that’s why I chose to enter the percussion section in the first place. And if you’re in the brass or woodwind section, you might have to share instruments with other members, which practically means sharing saliva. #

“JIT SIN! JIT SIN!” supporters shouting when Jit Sin High School marching band was up to perform. Dom and I shrugged our shoulders in ignorance.

# “Tap tap……tap tap……” that was the sound of SLK’s marching snare drum, providing the band a seemingly steady rhythm to march in. Everyone was exhausted, we had been running our drills and formations from morning till evening. Being our drum major, Hooi was trying his best to keep everyone both in line and in spirit. Based on the degree of sunburn on his almost Hellboy-colored skin, you could tell how fatigued he was, and how dedicated he was to the upcoming state competition.

During practice, we would have little 5-minute breaks. Sometimes we sit right down complaining about the weather, sometimes we had banters going around. Most of the time Taurus brought Hooi water to drink – they were dating. They still are the cutest couple among my friends. Who says high school sweethearts don’t last?

When the competition was getting near, that’s when you could see a lot of dramas and emotions going on. It was make or break, as we’re in our senior years, which meant no more next year to fight for our long-awaited championship. All these years Jit Sin had been claiming the title with us coming short. It was now or never for us. #

Due to some technical miscommunication, the markers on the field needed to be readjusted for Chung Ling’s band to perform in. We thought to ourselves, it’s time for ex-members to ‘perform’. Hooi gathered all of us to brief us about the mission. Although Hooi already graduated like the rest of us, he spent his holiday coaching the band. So there were about 25 of us eager to help on the mission. It was like a reunion, reminding us of the good old days.

The organizers gave us ten minutes to readjust all the markers on the field before our band was up to perform – we usually used a few hours measuring and drawing markers on our own field. So there we were in front of thousands of spectators, a small troop of non-uniformed soldiers battling in the field, fighting with markers on the floor. We managed to finish the task in time, then we ran back to the audience podium shouting ‘Chung Ling! Chung Ling!’ all the way. Hooi said we’re a bunch of crazy seniors.

# It was a few minutes before we’re up to perform. Everyone gathered and Hooi briefed us about what to do and what not to do. It was a nervous time. All of a sudden, someone stepped out and gave us a motivational and moving speech – he was already full of tears by the time he finished talking. It still sends chills down my bone every time I think of it. We got all pumped up, and gave our best performance – at least we thought so.

The band was in the ready position when the results were being announced. Which meant no immediate shouting of joy if we’re to be announced winners. I was almost certain we were finally getting our title because of the amount of hard work we put in and the maturity of our performance that brewed for five years. When we were announced as the first runner-up, everyone stood still. There were teardrops on my quad tom. #

It sent chills down our bone when Chung Ling’s band performed a marching band version of ‘We’re All In This Together’. It was perfect for all of us. We’re amazed by how well they performed with just three weeks of practice – it usually took months. We shouted our joys from the audience podium. This might be our long-awaited championship performance.

The band was in the ready position when the results were being announced. Ex-members were all standing beside the field, readying to explode and rush to our bands if they were to be announced winners. We could hear Hooi’s heartbeats from a few steps away. Everyone was dying to find out if this performance would be Hooi’s masterpiece. I looked at the band on the field and thought to myself : that used to be us. I’d give anything to go back and experience that life in the band again.

The second runner-up was announced, and it wasn’t Chung Ling. And everyone knew it was up to either Chung Ling or Jit Sin to win the title. It was exactly like our time two years ago, but we all hoped and wished that the outcome could be different this time.

When the first runner-up was announced, everyone stood still again.

# It was a weird time. It’s wrong to congratulate each other and it’s hard to give condolences when you’re already crying. We didn’t know the appropriate expression to give on our face. In the midst of Jit Sin’s celebration, somehow we gained the guts to sing our school anthem. At least we needed to pretend that we still had our spirits high. It was sunset when we went home. #

Jit Sin marching band won 7 in a row. That was the headline of the night. Well, for sure they spent more time into this competition than our band did. At least our band got the best drum major award, which Hooi never got. It was a happy night for the band, most members are satisfied with the result as they already exceeded expectations.

I can’t say it’s a happy night for the rest of us ex-members. Of course we’re happy for the band’s achievements, but in a way, we felt old. We were done. The band reminded us of who we used to be and how great our lives were when it was all about band practice and rehearsals. Sometimes when your past is too good to be true, it’s hard to move on to the next stage – which will not include marching under the hot sun.

# When we were back in our bandroom, everyone calmed down and we talked and shared our feelings. Somewhere along the line someone shouted ‘One Band, One Sound! Wooohoooo!’. I kept shouting and wiped the tears away from my drumhead.#

What we do in Raja Uda.

What we do in Raja Uda.

It’s Friday night. I knew what was coming. We all knew. Everyone received a call from Dom.

“Tonight, on or not?” Dom asked.

“On.” I replied. So did everyone.

Then I started to go on Facebook to ask everyone about the location. If you are new to this, let me tell you something. We could do Dom’s plan at one of two places. It’s always up to us to choose the exact location. Dom doesn’t like to go into little details – he’s indecisive on this kind of stuff. Anyway, nobody actually cared about the exact location. We simply wanted to do it.

The clock turned nine. I mean, the digital time indicator on my laptop displayed 9:ooPM. That was it – it’s time to depart.

I was driving my dad’s Toyota, concentrating on the traffic, replying texts, and making sure I had only RM10 in my wallet. Young adults born in the 90s are really a new breed of excellent multitaskers. It’s just a straight road anyway. A really long one. One that can lead you to every place in town. One that you never get tired of driving on it everyday. One that you can drive on blindfolded, literally.

The plan was to be there at 9. But we all knew the event wouldn’t start at 9. There was no miscommunication – it simply wouldn’t start at 9. Because we knew that Dom needed to take a bath at 9. Everyone reached the place at 9:30PM, or after that. Dom reached with his usual wet hair, apparently drying his hair wasn’t his strongest suit.

Then we started picking up stuff. After we finished picking up stuff, the woman assigned colourful clips to the stuff that we picked. We never knew why she did that, but she’s the one in charge, she can do whatever she wanted. Then a teenage boy asked us a question that we were all obliged to answer, as he was in charge, too.

After we did it, we started talking and sharing about everything and nothing, even though we’re sweating so much from doing it. It almost felt like pillow talk.

We went separate ways afterwards.

Leaving.

People always leave. Physically or mentally.

Making new acquaintances is fun, but not without a down side. It makes leaving harder.

I'm still trying not to care. At least on the outside.

每天傍晚

偶尔傍晚驾车，看见的都是疲累和沉闷。很多东西在橙色的天空下，都变得很down.

她超瘦，走路超慢。黄昏嘛，一个人散步就是要慢。她脸带忧愁，尤其在橙色的天空下。看起来心里有一些遗憾，解不开的一对心事。还是走得很慢。

他踏着脚车，走在路中间，也是很慢。他边看风景，边挡着后面的车。橙色的天空把他年轻化，如果不看牙齿和头顶的话。

傍晚一个人在外，让心结被橙色的天空照得更刺眼。

相遇时，她只能对他微笑。心里说，我们都老了。

有些后悔的事，只方便在月光下独子回首。

And If You Ever

We see things they'll never see. We take pride in things we never did. We set sail to places they've never been to. We hit lows when they're at their highs.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were younger? Wouldn't it be nice if we say what we need to say? Maybe we'll never be all the things that we wanna be. But i guess it's time to find out why.

Champagne Supernova

Been a busy month since i was last here.

Oh right, looking back at my new year wishes from last year really shocked the hell out of me.
I made all my wishes come true. Including getting 4As. What a nerd. Anyway getting the results felt like the scene in The Pursuit of Happyness where Will Smith got his job. Somehow i know I made the right choice. Doubters and haters can shove it up.

Now that the wait is over, I have no idea what to do next. Thought the long break would give me an idea of where my interests lie. But all i wanna do is stay the same and never grow up.

Recently I've got a lot to talk about. But no suitable candidate to talk to. Too provoking duh.

I'll just have a champagne supernova in the mean time.

What do I like to do?

It's hard when you're a young man just about to live your 20s. In a guy's 20s, he either makes it or he doesn't, there are no in-betweens. Most guys have no idea of what they're doing at 20. Yea, me neither. This might just be the longest period of time where i have absolutely nothing to do and nowhere to be. They say this is the right time to seriously plan for your future. Heck, I don't even know what to do tomorrow, don't even ask me what course I'm going to do. I don't have any idea, I don't wanna think about it. I just don't have the passion right now. If a man without his passion is a man without his dick, I'm dickless right now. Just the thought of transition is scaring me. I don't wanna go into a hostile environment. I'm still reluctant to grow up. That's why I've become kinda boring lately. I like to do things that i used to do, with people i used to do it with, and at places i used to do it in. It's just my way of resisting change.

But now, it's time to sleep.

6AS1

Somehow i feel like i need to write something about this.

All those complicated and mixed feelings inside me these few days deserve an article.

Graduating never gets better, even the second time around. Especially having a class that feels like home. Somehow everyone just clicked. I'd proudly claim this is the tightest class i've ever seen, never mind just knowing each other for a short period of one and a half year. You can almost smell the bonds in the atmosphere.

Looking through all the group photos of our so-called gatherings really warms my heart. I mean, who the hell have gatherings like 10 times a year when you're still together?

This has gotta be one of the best photos ever.

Come to think of it, i wasn't really familiar with any of these people in the first place. It wasn't my comfort zone. Well, some people here are really kinda weird, you can even tell from the picture. Not to say i'm extremely normal, but still... Anyhow, I learned alot from them. And suddenly one and a half year went by just like that, class was dismissed just like that. Just when i start to realise how uncomfortable it is without my daily dose of 6AS1.

I guess all i can do now is just viewing every picture and recalling every little bit of memories with these people so they don't fade soon. And i hope i don't have to lose touch with you, it feels kinda good to have you around. =D

话说回来

五月二十三日
-LOST 大结局。 六年后终于可以‘move on' 了。

五月二十四至二十九
-去了新加坡参加国际数学比赛，获益不浅，看到很多，也学了很多。

六月五日
-参加了人生第一场五月天演唱会。 不，其实是个万人K房。这应该会是人生中最难忘的事。

七月九日
-我生日，得到了一陀不锈铁。

其余的百多天
- 享受人生。

我想上几个月应该都过得满充实的，毕竟我也差不多忘了这个角落。
有朝一日我会把这个角落完全抛在脑外。 =D


I guess it's about time to focus on the pile loads of freak books. I think i can do it. No, actually i know i can do it. Well, I'll just try my best anyway.

阿信写的东西

突然找到这个东西，读了蛮不错下。

现在，突然好期待6月5日的到来。

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靠北 我哪時候「哽咽」了？


通告快要結束了，明明很宋的。



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作者: plumage (thanks for all) 看板: Golden-Award
標題: 請不要奪走他的翅膀
時間: Mon Jun 29 05:53:24 2009



好奇大家對典禮的反應，所以找到這裡看了一下。
杰倫不愧是華人的king of pop，不管他到或不到典禮，始終是大家關心的焦點。


身為一個音樂人，我必須承認，儘管這麼多年後，我對獎項早已雲淡風清，
但，眾所矚目的金曲獎，還是會逼得你不得不受它的影響。


其實，如果可以的話，我會選擇不參加任何的頒獎，
因為寫出來的作品，成敗好壞早就在自己的心裡有一個答案了，
那是誰都改變不了的。


我不怕不得獎，我對自己創作的全心投入，有百分之一萬的信心。
在這個時刻，這個宇宙裡，我已經盡了所有努力交出一首作品了，所以我別無所求。


但是，不得獎，歌迷會難過，朋友會難過，工作伙伴會難過，
連媽媽都很難過。


他們難過，所以我會跟著難過。


那麼，如果可以的話，我會選擇讓自己的心情不受影響，
不要一直回頭看，繼續前往明天的創作。對我而言，那才是最重要的事。


-----------------------------------------------------------

杰倫擁有我們同輩音樂人之間，萬中選一的才華，
我有很長一陣子不聽音樂，因為那些我喜愛的西洋樂團，
不知道為什麼，讓我找不到聽音樂的驚喜。
那段時間，連我都失去了作音樂的衝動。


在金六結服役的時期，我才有機會仔細聽杰倫的歌。
杰倫的音樂，加上文山的歌詞，讓我赫然發現，
華語音樂不再只是西洋音樂的附庸了。


「我們有機會超過那些發明吉他，發明爵士鼓，發明流行音樂的人！」


我還記得，當時在他音樂中聽到的鼓舞與希望。
於是我從頭來過，重新改變自己的創作，一路在音樂中摸索探險，
終於在後青春期的詩，找到完全屬於自己的方向。


-------------------------------------------------------

今天的杰倫，已經往更不同的領域前進了，
以我的角度來看，電影不是他的「副業」。
因為，一直以來，「創作」本來就都是他的主業。


當初大家不就是因為充滿畫面感的音樂，
而掉入那些首次出現在華人世界的奇幻范特西裡面嗎？


目前的他，擁有空前的影響力與創作力，
我們也許有機會，可以再一次超越那些「發明電影的人」啊。
至少，那是屬於我們，講著中文的電影。


我，是很認真這麼說的。


不管你認不認同，不管他能不能做到，但我願意全力的為他加油。
即使是沈默，也是為他留下了一片揮灑的空間。


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世界真的太大，
當我走出大陸的任何一個機場，我都會有這樣的感覺。
光是一個上海市的人口，大約就有兩千萬人，每一個省，就有一個台灣這麼大，
每一個地方，也都同樣有那麼多真心期待的眼神在等待。


如果是你是我，這樣的走過一回，
我相信你也會感動，也會不忍心讓任何一個人失望。


燃燒著有限的時間與生命，只恨自己沒有分身。


對了，
我竟然欠我媽一頓飯，欠了半年。


我想，杰倫的媽媽、外婆，還是住在台灣，
縱使小小的台灣，有全世界最多的，讓他甩不掉的窺探鏡頭，
但他創作、錄音的時候，回到台灣。
疲倦的時候，也是回到台灣。


一樣是這個地方長大的你，
知道他正抱著夢想闖蕩，怎能忍心奪走他的翅膀？


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世界上有六十億人，就會有六十億個不同的意見。
大部分的時候，我會因為害怕，而不敢說出我的意見。


金曲獎的當天，我到下午一點才睡著，不是因為緊張。
（我說過，我已經不太會因為過去的成績而受影響，這是我喜歡自己的部分）


我看著麥克傑克森的新聞，感受到無盡的哀傷，無法入眠。


當一個充滿才華的地球人與我們一起生存的時候，
我們把他當成不同的異類，甚至當成外星人。


而他離開的時候，我們才迫不及待的為他平反，
拉攏他早已遠去的靈魂，歌頌他再也聽不到的華麗詩句。
人類，真的令人感到哀傷。


而那，竟然是我們的人性之中共同的破損。


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在網路的世界中，一個人可以輕易的被唾棄，仇視，憤恨，不屑。
一直到死去之時，大家才願意偃兵息鼓，彷彿要洗清自己罪虐的，丟出三個英文字母：


R.I.P


在我眼中，這三個英文字母，竟然如此諷刺與銳利，
彷彿我們對那個充滿愛與和平的世界的最後告別。


全世界的人都說我不搖滾，
但，為什麼我還是忍不住，跟那個我不願接受的世界對抗？


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所以，我寫了這些，又到了天亮。


一個獎項的誕生，原本就是要鼓勵那些正在飛行的人。
但我卻看到這個獎，正在支解著一雙翅膀。


如果你，看到我們的同類正在飛翔，
請你不要奪走他的翅膀。


有一天當你飛翔，
那也會是我會給你的保證與保護。



























好了，寫到這裡應該會有人不知道我是哪位？
我得說感謝大家的支持（或不支持），現在最佳樂團獎盃在我手上，宋！
我那份獎金會捐出去，但我會留下五十塊錢，去吃一份搖滾的漢堡蛋跟我自己慶功。

早安，愛音樂的人！

下個星期去英國

不懂事的我。今天懒惰写。



下個星期去英國
詞 陳綺貞 曲 陳綺貞

你收了行李下個星期要去英 國，
遙遠的故事記得帶回來給我，
我知道我想要，卻又不敢對你說，
因為我已改變太多。

你改了一個名字也準備換工 作，
你開始了新的戀情有一些困惑，
我知道你想要，卻又不敢對我說，
因為你已改變太多。


你寫了好幾首屬於你的歌，
這樣的歌 隱藏了太多苦澀，
我知道你想要
卻又不敢對我說，
因為我曾是你，我曾是你，
無話不說的朋友。

因為，我們改 變太多。

Million Dollar Baby

I found out that some of the movies that had the hugest emotional impacts on me are made by Clint Eastwood, e.g Mystic River, Changeling, Gran Torino. Dude is a director, an actor, and what surprises me the most, a damn good composer. Million Dollar Baby happens to be one of the movies where he took on all three roles.



Can't say i really enjoyed seeing Eastwood's mean face, but it seems like i keep coming back for more of his movies. Very inspiring for me.

Purity

Just another lust dyed blue,
Creeping all over,
Like a dark dangerous gloom,
A thought so inclined and barely sane,
Run, before you're impured.

Your glow gives me irritating pleasure,
Your soul tickles mine,
A tulip so plain and white,
So oblivion and perfectly innocent.

But why this gloomy desire?
I'm too flawed to have a play.
After all feelings painted grey,
It has been just another lust dyed blue.

"Determine The Height of a Building Using a Barometer"

Found an interesting article from this site. Thought i'd share it with you.

At my first year of college my physics teacher told us this rather amusing story, I’ve never forgotten this story - but I certainly have forgotten everything I learned in that class.

The following question was asked at the University of Copenhagen in a physics exam:

“”Describe how to determine the height of a skyscraper with a barometer.”

One student replied:

“You tie a long piece of string to the neck of the barometer, then lower the barometer from the roof of the skyscraper to the ground. The length of the string plus the length of the barometer will equal the height of the building.”

This highly original answer so incensed the examiner that the student was failed immediately. He appealed on the grounds that his answer was indisputably correct, and the university appointed an independent arbiter to decide the case. The arbiter judged that the answer was indeed correct, but did not display any noticeable knowledge of physics. To resolve the problem it was decided to call the student in and allow him six minutes in which to provide a verbal answer which showed at least a minimal familiarity with the basic principles of physics. For five minutes the student sat in silence, forehead creased in thought. The arbiter reminded him that time was running out, to which the student replied that he had several extremely relevant answers, but couldn’t make up his mind which to use. On being advised to hurry up the student replied as follows:

“Firstly, you could take the barometer up to the roof of the skyscraper, drop it over the edge, and measure the time it takes to reach the ground. The height of the building can then be worked out from the formula H = 0.5g x t squared. But bad luck on the barometer.

“Or if the sun is shining you could measure the height of the barometer, then set it on end and measure the length of its shadow. Then you measure the length of the skyscraper’s shadow, and thereafter it is a simple matter of proportional arithmetic to work uut the height of the skyscraper.

“But if you wanted to be highly scientific about it, you could tie a short piece of string to the barometer and swing it like a pendulum, first at ground level and then on the roof of the skyscraper. The height is worked out by the difference in the gravitational restoring force T = 2 pi sqrroot (l/g).

“Or if the skyscraper has an outside emergency staircase, it would be easier to walk up it and mark off the height of the skyscraper in barometer lengths, then add them up.

“If you merely wanted to be boring and orthodox about it, of course, you could use the barometer to measure the air pressure on the roof of the skyscraper and on the ground, and convert the difference in millibars into feet to give the height of the building.

But since we are constantly being exhorted to exercise independence of mind and apply scientific methods, undoubtedly the best way would be to knock on the janitor’s door and say to him ‘If you would like a nice new barometer, I will give you this one if you tell me the height of this skyscraper’.”

The student was Nils Bohr, the first Dane to win the Nobel prize for Physics.

陈绮贞 - Self

幾次悔過 掩埋狂妄的惡魔
感覺卻好像毀棄善良的自我
幾次 脆弱 掩飾 不甘的示弱
這就是我

再說 我也不特別渴求永久
其實我也無法忠於單一感受
靜止了 沉溺了 無聲的滅絕 暈眩

是我拒絕你已清醒的雙眼
是我招喚你眼底的錯覺
就讓我用力砸碎輕聲的諾言
擁抱瞬間

是我用真實的編造了謊言
也是我用殘破的猜測這世界
就讓我回應你已失序的狂野
虛偽瞬間 是我

幾次悔過 掩埋狂妄的惡魔
這感覺卻好像毀棄了善良的自我
靜止了 沉溺了 無聲的滅絕 退怯


是我拒絕你已清醒的雙眼
是我招喚你眼底的錯覺
就讓我用力砸碎輕聲的諾言
擁抱瞬間

是我用真實的編造了謊言
就算我用殘破的猜測這世界
再一次回應你已失序的狂野
我們表演

是我用真實的編造了謊言
就算我用殘破的證實這世界
再一次讓我嚐盡犯錯的甜美
甜美瞬間

是你帶我經過純潔的瞬間
無悔無邪