It’s Jan.18th today, right a whole month since we came to Singapore, not a day less, not a day more. But who can tell me how far it is one month’s distance?
Right this midnight a month ago, we landed on the Changi Airport. It was a dark night with thick clouds and lots of twinkle lights, which immediately caught my eye, and left a remarkable impression in my memory. But a month later, when I am sitting here, before my laptop in front of my desk in a common room at Eton Hall, typing my first blog and having a cup of tea from China, it appears that between the two nights, is not only one month. It has passed several centuries, enough from birth to death, and enough from death to rebirth.
With the advanced modern technology, you can travel around the earth by equator in one day, and you can land at the accurate place where you set off if you travel in a whole circle. But I am not travelling in a whole circle, nor am I travelling by equator. I am travelling all along my life, from the birth to death, and never can I travel from death to rebirth.
But is there anyone who can tell me how far I have travelled in a month?
No one, including myself.
I am acquainted with where I come from, but I haven’t even the slightest idea about where I am going to. Time flies without making even a venial noise, cause it has no wings. It simply wafts, as though it is aware of how busy we are, and kindly it does not want to disturb us.
We are all busy travelling, from birth to death. Time is travelling, too, but there is no such concept as birth or death concerning time. When time travelled a month, how far have we travelled? Is it merely the distance between China and Singapore? Is it just from the Yangzi River to Singapore River? Or is it from your heart to mine, the one I am missing? Or is one month the distance between you and me, someplace or something I am missing?
Once we dreamt we were dear together, but we waked up to find we were strangers to each other.
Once we supposed we were rooted together, but we came across the fact that our branches stretch opposite to each other.
Once we …
Once me…
Once …
Perhaps this is how far a month’s distance is.
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"It has passed several centuries, enough from birth to death, and enough from the death to rebirth." I like this sentence. And it is such a beautiful and peaceful post.
ReplyDeletesentimental sentences , but beautiful
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteＩreally appreciate your deep thoughts about life and some other details ,these thoughts never occurred to me !
ReplyDeleteI think that the most important things are that you know what you enjoy and what you want to achieve.
ReplyDeleteIt seems that you are so sentimental..but, cheer up please,my friend. We still have a long way to go. Besides, I like your passage,those beautiful but sorrowful words do make sense to me.
ReplyDeleteyou are a poet! you have such a soft heart and sensitive sense! your words are so beautiful, especially when you describe how time flies and the distance. it's so vivid that i even see the time is tiptoeing by our bodies. i was drunk in the fantastic mixed taste of the cocktail you made. it tastes a bit homesick, a bit aimless, a bit not fulfilled, a bit eager for new try...
ReplyDeletelet's start from here, together, and creat our own colorful days!^^
Speechless...But cheer up,promising boy!Staying blue won't make anything better.When I am depressed,I like to say "A ZA A ZA Fighting"to myself.Now I can share with you.Let's say it together as loudly as we can:"A ZA A ZA Fighting"!^^
ReplyDeleteIf I still remember, Tagore said" Once I dreamt we were strangers, but when I woke up, I realize that we were dear to each other." I am glad to know such a perceptual person like you.
ReplyDeleteYes,really beautiful! Can you tell me what hide in your heart? You superise me again and again.
ReplyDeleteO(∩_∩)O~~ actually even I myself cannot tell what hides in my heart. Everyone is born lonely, no feeling can be shared in nature. But no one is an island. we are all connected, we are not alone......
ReplyDeleteWell said! The flight of time is very subjective indeed, but it does pass us by quietly as we run about involved in the nittygritty of our life.
ReplyDeleteapplaud~~~applaud~~~applaud~~~
ReplyDeleteLadies and gentlemen, attention please. Please do not forget the moment you impressed by the prose poem, because it is the moment you are witnessing the debut of our glorious poet----the second Shelley~~!
No doubt you have the name Shelley; you really deserve the name~b(^_^)d
(not the sweat, but the admiration~)