2003-07-14 @ 6:25 p.m.

permanent mood:

I meant to live a dual life.

Till now, I can't totally forgive you for what you've done to me-since I was so little. I was locked and hampered and abused quietly peacefully and calmly upon my mind. I learned to pretend. I meant to suffer. I've been suffering. I can't forget. I've been trying to forget. A destroyed and paralyzed heart is still a healthy one. That's what you want. That's what you all want. Why I abandon myself to let you mold me? To let you lead me astray? I'm already leaving you. I'm no longer your due. A bent clothes rack, a broken belt will not stop me from cutting off all the connection with you. I'm outside you now and I'm myself. One day you will not understand and I'm not coming back. Do you know how I bear all this? Why I'm not so hopeless as to cease all of this with you together on some bright summer day like this? Why? I've been wretched enough though everybody says I'm fortunate. It's not happy or unhappy indeed. A burn on one's heart is a thousand times bitterer than on one's body, I'd say. But I'm enjoying my double life since the first time I felt the terrible pleasure of being complete again, among strangers, those curious people. It seems that I'm fresh and new, like an unstained flower still with dew on my petals. I'm like a white orchid with all the innocence and purity. Yes, I like the way I look like. A simple mind is sometimes so ideal that everyone will pursue. But I'm just inside my metal shell and I'll not unveil. I believe one day this will make me new and help me find another paradise.

I only know time will past, life goes on. I still have time to explore and I won't give up.

(I personally adore Meursault in Albert Camus's The Stranger at the moment. I fancy if I was ever like him, what other life I would enjoy. I should say he's neither cold nor hedonistic. It's just kind of philosophy of way of living that he has. And I think it's divine. I'm eagerly reading it again in English version which I failed to get.)

I finished reading The Picture of Dorian Gray yesterday and it's really a great book! Ever! The whole story is about the supremacy of youth and beauty, the purpose of art, the human nature and a fatal influence. Lord Henry Wotten is the most glamorous man I've ever read about. He's full of paradoxically enchanting theories and one cannot deny being fascinated and influenced by him, including me. I like him as well as Oscar Wilde because I'm sure the creator must be wittier than his own characters. And I realize that I love real genius. They always appeal to me.

Here's some quotations: (from Penguin Books 1985)

*The secret of remaining young is never to have an emotion that is unbecoming. p95

*Never trust a woman who wears mauve, whatever her age might be, or a woman over thirty-five who is fond of pink ribbons. It always means that they have a history. p113 (That's intriguing.)

*To become the spectator of one's own life is to escape the suffering of life. p122 (umm...I'm just trying this.)

*Moderation is a fatal thing. Enough is as bad as a meal. More than enough is as good as a feast. p197 (Hedonistic?)

*TO CURE THE SOUL BY MEANS OF THE SENSES, AND THE SENSES BY MEANS OF THE SOUL. p202 (I don't quite understand this.)

*Every effect that one produces gives one an enemy. To be popular one must be a mediocrity. p215 (That's universally true.)

*In the common world of fact the wicked were not punished, nor the good rewarded. Success was given to the strong, failure thrust upon the weak. p219 (Wow!)

*The only horrible thing in the world is ennui. That is the one sin for which there is no forgiveness. p213

*-Knowledge would be fatal. It is the uncertainty that charms one. A mist makes things wonderful.
-One may lose one's way.
-All ways end at the same point.
-What is that?
-Disillusion.
p225 (That's fantastic!)

*The things one feels absolutely certain about are never true. That is the fatality of Faith, and the lesson of Romance. p236 (I don't quite understand the latter one.)

*Life is not governed by will or intention. Life is a question of nerves, and fibres and slowly build-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. p238 (That's intriguing.)

It's not complete but It's maybe enough for the moment. I think I'll read the story again when I'm promoted. :)

The perfect introduction of the novel click

...

"To think more and to write less."