
"Is there any...thing but Architecture?"
Of course there are always something in the list of my favourites beside Architecture. Memories are one of them. However, I was thinking why would I share them and why should I share them. There is no way to persuade me not because I am an obstinate person but because of the dignity of every individual thought which is embedded in my mind, and they are not meant to be shared only if you have the same respectability as mine towards all others' thoughts and feelings. If you are so, here present the most naive and ignenuous memories which I have.
Memories
Why? Whenever I saw this, the ever-brownish sandy grids in the playground of my
primary school, I would search for those tiny creatures with spinning shells in every
"cave". Yeah, with bare hands. And they were always thought to be the luckiest ones
"who" were going to have their new "candy-house" made with tin and of course,
well-decorated with Hello-Kitty. We would show off our "collection" by passing those
metal box around during class. Those little "friends" were never welcomed by our
teachers and parents, only we had mercy on them, but no more then...
~Snails inside drainages
That was never the most care-free period in my life. But even the least happiness could raise
me up to heaven. My memorization skill had not been developed so much by that time, yet,
my grades were so good. As people grow, as more and more advance their brains start to
be, they try to fill in more than enough stuff, both happy and sad, until they seem like bursting. And
concentration is degrading as more days are passed and more memories are accumlated.
Remembrances should be kept when they deserve, otherwise, why act like this? Moving and moving
but at the same point. Why don't we just look upon wherever we should and be happier.
~a "childish" thought
The line was running along
horizontally, supporting by the two posts, standing strongly beside the "mattress." While the other two
were so sturdy, this one was so weak. I kept staring at it, and all others were staring at me. I knew I
have to make this jump, with my bent back seemed like the new born moon, either pass or
fail, all in one second. My heart kept pounding vigorously, and people's eyes kept urging me. I looked at it, it
was no line anymore, it was a plane. How could I jump over a plane? The wind was pushing
me hard behind, my feet was raising uncontrollably, every part of me started to lose in the air. I was so
light, like a feather and then I was wrapped. I smiled while I was looking back at it, it's shinning under the
sun. Nomatter how skillful my opponents were, they would all finished resting on this
same "mattress", in which I was lying.
~high jump competition
There was no star in the sky, only thousands neon lights fighting to be the most
outstanding. We were all living under the same sky, weren't we? I don't think so. On the glistening surface of the Victoria harbor, there was no reflection of any face, only
dust roused by people who walked within city, floating like a screen in front
of passengers' eyes on the deck of "Star ferry". I wrote my first poem about stars.
Only in the land of imagination did I saw them, and I started falling in a triangular love, with both the
city of no-star and the land of stars.
~imgination at the age of 10
"I swear I'll never touch it."
"I'll go on even when it's raining as heavy as limestone's falling."
"I can't do it."
"I still love it..."
In terms of literature, is it called the "framing tale"? Shifting from one situ. to another and then back? It is so funny, I was never the best, but I liked it the best during my
past 6 years, until 3 years ago I found the true theme in my life. Trying to have control of this round thing changes my life. You know how a person could be made famous in a school with a thousand
students. I realise the power of unity and how hatred could destroy a team. Trust is not the best social skill but it bridges people together. Playing this sphere always brought me hopes, even with
tears streaming on my face I'd overcome it. It was in my dream last night I felt it once again with my beloved teamates frolicking around.
~life in basketball team
So many days passed without being realized. From when I had to be observed under those
high-tech lens to the recent five feet five, how many days did I say thanks in the morning?
How many nights did those weeps encounter and I seek soothening from the one in heaven? If I did not care
the existence of those days, how would I face them in the finite tomorrows? Please tell, what would we
all care for? Something we can only be awarded once. It is ironic to think of the luck and luxury we have
in our seventy years life-span but people treat them like trash. Rethink...
~the "life" I love
Bye bye my homeland! Wish your future as glamorous as those fireworks but not falling
apart. Don't fall even whatever collapse; stand still even pirates stripe you naked and rob you dead;
be patient when being critizing by nonsense, this is all for your goods. If I come back one day, would you
hold me in arms once more? Would you bring me up to sky and fly in winds again? If I am still weak
and dissolved in the water from my eyes, would you give me your hands? Would you plant flowers to cheer
me up again? I will come back, bringing treasures invisibly. No other gift would be more valuable than
my immense love for you; nothing can compare to my unique and intense feeling in you. On that day, please gladly receive.
~Hong Kong
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