近來在想做人的問題。
作為一個半中半英的香港人，上課是英文，思路是廣東話，只好用僅剩的中國文化去用拼音把胡思亂想的一堆記下。
不太暸解Human這個字的出處，但只看這個「人」字，就不簡單。
這個「人」字要寫到頂天立地，真絕不容易。更何怳要隨心之所欲，而且每一筆都絕無反悔？
想來，要達到這境界，不是出家，就是往書裡面轉。
可能我們永遠都是朝一個方向，目標，理想進發，縱使烏托邦找不到，但那路還是會留下腳印，然後回首看看落足的每一點。那就是希望了吧？
信望愛，也不無道理。
瘂弦說：「人生如飛鳥掠空，其佔有的空間就是放棄的空間，應該珍惜的，或許是從佔有到放棄的過程。真正的智者，是對一切過程無怨無悔的人。」
我在看自己的人生，宇宙不也是在看宇宙的自己嗎？
物我，前塵，今生，未來，原來都不是一樣的嗎？
究竟我們往前踏出了幾大步？還是一切都是本來就沒有方向呢？
愛恩斯坦跟他同僚苦思量子物理學的難題不果，同僚問愛恩斯坦：「你真的確信如果沒有人看月亮，它會不存在？」愛答：「你可以為你的說法提出反論證嗎？」
佛跟量子物理學那種微塵的自我感知力，真有點不謀而合呢。
或者現實真的就是我思故我在，但冥冥中又自有主宰。
送上Johnny Cash 翻唱 Nine Inch Nails的Hurt
他女兒受訪時憶起她爸讓她第一次看這個MV，看畢跟她爸說, 'But Dad, it's so sad, it sounds like you are saying goodbye'. 他爸有點詫異女兒有這個反應，說，'But I am'.
MV裡的Johnny跟屋子都不在了。
人已仙去，屋也在一場火災燒掉了。
很美，很傷心，很真，很動聽。
對，很真。
Sunday 27 March 2011
Saturday 26 March 2011
Saturday 19 March 2011
W thoughts 1
Weird, wild, wet, warm thoughts one,
I'm sure there's more to come.
(rhyme not intended)
I couldn't help thinking, with all the dreams I've had lately, what would other beings dream of? Say an animal, then what about a robot? With the conflicting definition there is as to what a robot is, I wanted to find something more applicable and understood by all.
They say Google will be the next AI and we all know what Google is and how it works (no, not in programming terms)
So here's my question.
What would Google dream of?
I'm sure there's more to come.
(rhyme not intended)
I couldn't help thinking, with all the dreams I've had lately, what would other beings dream of? Say an animal, then what about a robot? With the conflicting definition there is as to what a robot is, I wanted to find something more applicable and understood by all.
They say Google will be the next AI and we all know what Google is and how it works (no, not in programming terms)
So here's my question.
What would Google dream of?
Have you been dreaming in a dream lately?
Have been having a lot of weird dreams lately. This dream had layers so it was very hard for me to go through the scenes by sequence. I'll see where the words will bring me.
...there you were and there I was. We both knew there was something between us, but we couldn't, the room was too crowded and there was no room left for me and you. I did still, move towards you, which meant I had to sadly maneuver myself around other tables and found myself sidelined on the one seat that was left hovering at the margins of the crowd.
What remained of that night remains unclear, I was so drunk, I do not recall how or with whom I left with and how I got home. The only thought left was that I had promised my dad to make a movie at 11am. He would hold the camera and I would direct. Was it this morning or the next? I kept asking myself. It was an important movie, a remake of a scene that would be the difference between life and death for me. Because somebody wanted to kill us and I had to recreate the scene of his plot against us all.
As I try to swirl my thoughts into the scene of us meeting in the dark, things become entangled. Me sitting here on the sofa of a warming Scotland morning, me, in the dream knowing that the 11am filming moment was important and the me, in the dream recalling the dream where I witnessed the menacing scene where we all felt his presence, froze in the dark, held our breathe and let him pass...
It's too late now, I cannot logically relate the dream in the dream in this current state of mind. My thoughts in the awaking state is becoming all too strong and it is skewing the realities of the dream.
Remembering a dream is a futile business, it didn't happen and it did. But then what about a movie? Did it happen or did it not? is life not the same? If I relied on myself to claim that I existed, I am sure to be doomed. I live on because of the thoughts of others. And humanity is but a collection of all such thoughts put together.
...there you were and there I was. We both knew there was something between us, but we couldn't, the room was too crowded and there was no room left for me and you. I did still, move towards you, which meant I had to sadly maneuver myself around other tables and found myself sidelined on the one seat that was left hovering at the margins of the crowd.
What remained of that night remains unclear, I was so drunk, I do not recall how or with whom I left with and how I got home. The only thought left was that I had promised my dad to make a movie at 11am. He would hold the camera and I would direct. Was it this morning or the next? I kept asking myself. It was an important movie, a remake of a scene that would be the difference between life and death for me. Because somebody wanted to kill us and I had to recreate the scene of his plot against us all.
As I try to swirl my thoughts into the scene of us meeting in the dark, things become entangled. Me sitting here on the sofa of a warming Scotland morning, me, in the dream knowing that the 11am filming moment was important and the me, in the dream recalling the dream where I witnessed the menacing scene where we all felt his presence, froze in the dark, held our breathe and let him pass...
It's too late now, I cannot logically relate the dream in the dream in this current state of mind. My thoughts in the awaking state is becoming all too strong and it is skewing the realities of the dream.
Remembering a dream is a futile business, it didn't happen and it did. But then what about a movie? Did it happen or did it not? is life not the same? If I relied on myself to claim that I existed, I am sure to be doomed. I live on because of the thoughts of others. And humanity is but a collection of all such thoughts put together.
Sunday 13 March 2011
Dreamt
Typing this feels more like there's a voice calling through me rather than from me. It feels really weird, like I am simply writing down what is directed to me rather than what I am thinking. I guess I know how the apostles felt when the word of God went through their bodies.
Weirdest dream ever, was back in high school days, and it was music lesson, more like exam for music lesson. We had to each select a song that we liked and sing it and we would be scored accordingly.
I remember thinking in my head, but that would be unfair to those who can't sing properly or don't have a good voice. Well, too late, we have already begun moving the chairs around so that we said according to the class number assigned to us.
For some reason, Simon, my best mate, was sitting to the right of me and he sang some corny love song dedicated to his girlfriend. And we all cheered, despite expecting the obvious.
When it was my turn, I hesitated for a while, uncertain of what I was going to sing, unprepared for the occasion. And then I said, 'This song is dedicated to my generation and I hope future generations will not have to sing it anymore'.
There was even a screen that got pulled up at the blackboard and a youtube website was on stand by. But there was a delay in the prologue of the song, so I began with improvisation. Lengthening the words sung so that the lyrics could appear on the screen so that my fellow man could sing along with me.
As I prolonged each word to delay the entry of the song being played on screen, I really had to sing till I was out of breathe for each sentence. And that made my lungs collapse, my body shaking, each in take of air overwhelmed and tearful because my body was pushed to the limit.
I can remember myself singing and crying in the dream.
Imagine there's no heaven, not a thing to worry*
Imagine all the people, nobody dying
Imagine all the children, without any hunger
And then came the real thing, the whole class singing in unison, there would be instances where a student with musical talents would rise above the surface of the masses and perform in his particular gifted way. In the organised classroom of desk and chairs, there was a rising and falling of people taking their turn to lead the crowd to sing the way the music moved them. Improvisation and order, order and improvisation, constant was the shift.
As I sit here, 7.33am in the morning, reaching my arms into the depths of the receding dream, I try but fail to recall how the song came to an end.
Perhaps we are still singing it.
Yes, we are singing it.
I can hear the echoes from a dream.
*the lyrics were changed as I sang, because I knew the anticipation in the crowd and did not want them to repeat what they heard only seconds before.
Weirdest dream ever, was back in high school days, and it was music lesson, more like exam for music lesson. We had to each select a song that we liked and sing it and we would be scored accordingly.
I remember thinking in my head, but that would be unfair to those who can't sing properly or don't have a good voice. Well, too late, we have already begun moving the chairs around so that we said according to the class number assigned to us.
For some reason, Simon, my best mate, was sitting to the right of me and he sang some corny love song dedicated to his girlfriend. And we all cheered, despite expecting the obvious.
When it was my turn, I hesitated for a while, uncertain of what I was going to sing, unprepared for the occasion. And then I said, 'This song is dedicated to my generation and I hope future generations will not have to sing it anymore'.
There was even a screen that got pulled up at the blackboard and a youtube website was on stand by. But there was a delay in the prologue of the song, so I began with improvisation. Lengthening the words sung so that the lyrics could appear on the screen so that my fellow man could sing along with me.
As I prolonged each word to delay the entry of the song being played on screen, I really had to sing till I was out of breathe for each sentence. And that made my lungs collapse, my body shaking, each in take of air overwhelmed and tearful because my body was pushed to the limit.
I can remember myself singing and crying in the dream.
Imagine there's no heaven, not a thing to worry*
Imagine all the people, nobody dying
Imagine all the children, without any hunger
And then came the real thing, the whole class singing in unison, there would be instances where a student with musical talents would rise above the surface of the masses and perform in his particular gifted way. In the organised classroom of desk and chairs, there was a rising and falling of people taking their turn to lead the crowd to sing the way the music moved them. Improvisation and order, order and improvisation, constant was the shift.
As I sit here, 7.33am in the morning, reaching my arms into the depths of the receding dream, I try but fail to recall how the song came to an end.
Perhaps we are still singing it.
Yes, we are singing it.
I can hear the echoes from a dream.
*the lyrics were changed as I sang, because I knew the anticipation in the crowd and did not want them to repeat what they heard only seconds before.
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