Yesterday was a sunday,
I decided NOT to go anywhere;
I ran for 15minutes before i feel tired and start to get lost in the hill where i live; I fell asleep again; i did my french homework; studied a bit; wrote some letters and postcards; studied a bit english; tidied my room; ate my hard buagette; and read a bit of novel; the sky is still bright out there;
I didn't know the time and I didn't ask;
I then found NOTHING to do
NOTHING i want to do
my body wanted to DO NOTHING
then i realised, indeed, I have never rested before
for even when sleep, I dream my worries, my desire and my missing ones
9.6.09
046: voyage a frances
je voyage a Lyon de France,
je edutiate franciase et Anglaise
I'm now staying at Lyon, France.
It's a quite city with river and sun.
good enough for me to be quiet a bit
but i'm again worry about my early departure in HK afterwards.
ON one hand I feel sorry for not hqving enought time for my parents and on the other hand I feel myself spending more than I have expected, and I can't help to be free from worries.
yet despite all this, via my weekend trip to Paris,
feeling like an isolqte person from the city
I realise myself not "loving" for such long time,
despite that i think about my parents more
and despite i'm more concern about the news worldwide
the choice that I have made for mysemf is still very exclusive to my own interests and concern, the english, the slience I'd like to acquire , the art and knowledge,
and none of these activities involve a direct relation with love as an action itself;
on art, I do get an answer somehow;
while admiring musician being so freely to share everywhere,
that the music penetrate time and space,
on that sunday morning I drew a portrait for a violinist in front of the ST Mary Church, I donate to him instead of giving coins into his case,
afterwards, he caught me up and compose a melody for me, play another half and our at the point i'm doing the other sketch;
and I'm glad that we share the beauty which transforms
C'est la vie suele.
currently reading: witch of portebello by paulo cellho
je edutiate franciase et Anglaise
I'm now staying at Lyon, France.
It's a quite city with river and sun.
good enough for me to be quiet a bit
but i'm again worry about my early departure in HK afterwards.
ON one hand I feel sorry for not hqving enought time for my parents and on the other hand I feel myself spending more than I have expected, and I can't help to be free from worries.
yet despite all this, via my weekend trip to Paris,
feeling like an isolqte person from the city
I realise myself not "loving" for such long time,
despite that i think about my parents more
and despite i'm more concern about the news worldwide
the choice that I have made for mysemf is still very exclusive to my own interests and concern, the english, the slience I'd like to acquire , the art and knowledge,
and none of these activities involve a direct relation with love as an action itself;
on art, I do get an answer somehow;
while admiring musician being so freely to share everywhere,
that the music penetrate time and space,
on that sunday morning I drew a portrait for a violinist in front of the ST Mary Church, I donate to him instead of giving coins into his case,
afterwards, he caught me up and compose a melody for me, play another half and our at the point i'm doing the other sketch;
and I'm glad that we share the beauty which transforms
C'est la vie suele.
currently reading: witch of portebello by paulo cellho
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