2003-06-09 @ 2:23 a.m.

permanent mood:

While I pray, I thought about the last seconds remained. I was scared. I was nervous towards the coming fate of ruin. Before the last few pages unfinished, the last flash of light put out, all in silence and chatter. In the dorm, outside which the long, endless aisle laid our feet. One step followed another, they woke up from in the middle of our dreams, they walked like ghosts, with white on. Oh, now I cannot go back, for a normal summer time, the hottest season, the fiery creatures cannot join to form a picture. You are far out of there looking out of the windows, half closed your eyes, listen to the raindrops hitting the edges of your window. You are about to the way out. Your doom. There's some times I fantasize, in the midnight, with a large pool of rain pouring down elaborately. Now I can hear it, while dream being caught in, which will be the delightest thing to do in summer-yet I cannot. I can't even have this, riding my bicycle and bathing in the rain. Dying in the sun. oh no. This is the mere precious time for me and I'm losing it-I'm afraid I'm losing it. Now I'm back in the isle, no, aisle, with the light brightly shining onto the ground-the ceramic ones, flesh pink. I'm reading or talking or strolling from one end to the other-I dare not do this actually-unless I'm totally hollow and invisible and soundless, I would go up and down the stairs, with my white underdress, pretend to be the ghost appearing in N's dream. It would be true. I mean her dream. And I like it. I like some other's tricky dreams as they also have passion for it. N recorded it as I do. I like being in dreams for it's a completely new world. And I was always doing crazy things. It's dreams as wish-fulfillment, isn't it? So I have many wishes as I often 'night' dream before I fall asleep. I often recall someone and wish to write her/him a letter. I wish we could be back to the past and replay what had happened. I wish that, really. I know I'm mad, and sometimes very blue, I should admit. I'm easily driven into lethargy. I know now, I can't prevent myself from sinking into a dangerous state of mind. While it's getting dark, while everything is doomed to ruin, my days, my presence. I don't know how long it'll last and in what way I kill the demon in me. I should kill it, shouldn't I? I wonder if nature rules, is my nature the persistent fear of being alive? I'm really coward and timid and afraid of everything, one at a time. I'm afraid of so many things. When I imagine I'm going to face the toughest things in my life, I turn to be very nervous. Really nervous. I'm not always the fearless figure in my mind indeed. I'm afraid of many things. And if I call me brave I should call it anesthetized. I know the truth now. But who's really cared of nothing? The nature drives so? I don't know. But the only thing I know is that my nature is revealing more and more to me, clearer and clearer, as I observe and reflect carefully. My courage can be easily stirred by something else, like a movie or an article. But it fades as quickly as I'm not with it. I'm back to myself. The despair one. Maybe I want too much. Maybe I believe in miracle. Maybe I'm childish. I have no doubt that one day I'm no long tortured by this. That one day I will think as Lord Henry thinks and enjoy what I think. Wilde is amazing and I'm almost consumed with his idea and his way of thinking or writing. He's a genius, a genius of his own prodigy, not others'. I think his book worth reading more than once and thinking over and over. 'Youth is the only thing worth having.' 'it is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances. The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.' ... so many of this kind. And I personally adore his air of preaching. He's so sure about it and what he said make me think. It is said all the unfortunateness of humanity is due to one thing: one doesn't learn to rest alone in one's room. A room of one's own, thinking, doing whatever. We are even farther from nature.